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Rating: Considering the fame of “And Then There Were None,” a classic mystery novel, it's obvious that a book titled “The Eleventh Little Indian” can only create curiosity and expectations. The book is the work of a pair of French authors, Yves Jacquemard and Jean-Michel Sénécal, who wrote some successful detective novels in France in the late seventies, and it is a declared homage to the English writer.
The starting idea is certainly intriguing: using a theater as the crime scene where a company of actors is engaged in a long series of performances adapting Agatha Christie’s book. It becomes even more intriguing with the authors' choice to use first-person storytelling by the actor who plays the part of the guilty character in the events of Nigger Island.
The elements to immediately capture the reader's attention are not lacking. While introducing his colleagues, the narrator makes the reader understand on several occasions that they will be the victims of the crime, just as the characters they portray are in Christie's book. The other awareness that the reader has from the beginning is due to a simple deduction: the only actor who will remain alive is the one most suspected for the role he plays in the theatrical performance.
After the main series of murders has taken place, as the investigations proceed and the story takes shape, the connection with the events narrated by Christie seems to almost completely disappear. At a certain point in the reading, one even thinks that for the story's purposes, the theatrical production the company was engaged in before the murders could have been any play, and nothing would have changed; the events could have unfolded as they are narrated up to that point.
The search for the case's solution is a deductive effort by two, the police detective on duty and the actor/narrator of the story. It's more of a “drawing-room” job, a lot of pondering, chatting, and reworking of facts with their backsides sunk into armchairs in one another's house or the homes of the people they question. Few dangers, little fieldwork searching for clues, getting their shoes dirty according to the old-school method of Sherlock Holmes. This part of the story is predominantly built with dialogue, and fortunately, they are crafted with a certain skill. The pace is not fast-paced, but the reading is nevertheless enjoyable.
Things suddenly heat up in the finale, where the logical thread connecting the events in this book with those in “And Then There Were None” is found. A few twists follow, in each of which the focus shifts to a different target using some of the most famous solutions crafted by the English writer. More tributes to her from the two authors, who in my opinion, overdo it a bit by sending the reader on too many false trails, creating the sensation of having a caricature of a mystery book at hand. This detracts from the intensity of the moment when the true culprit is revealed, which should have been the best twist the authors had in store for the reader.
In retrospect, thinking about the enigma devised, my opinion is that it's a good idea that wasn't developed in the best way. The book is nevertheless entertaining and I recommend it. For those interested, it will take some effort to find it, as it's been out of print for a long time. I used the cover of a French edition because the Italian one is terrible.
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