The memoirs of the Queen are always curious, and if this is the queen of the detective genre, then the effect of revealing secrets and answering riddles promises to be exceptional. An example of this is Agatha Christie's Autobiography (Moscow, Vagrius, 1999). She talks about...

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The queen's emuars are always curious, and if this is the queen of the detective genre, then the effect of revealing secrets and answering riddles promises to be exceptional. An example of this is Agatha Christie's Autobiography (Moscow, Vagrius, 1999). She talks about a life lived in one breath. About life, in general, prosperous - without direct clashes with criminal incidents, the actions of the police or private detectives, but nevertheless full of bright, and sometimes funny events.

It turns out that the most real of the characters created by the talent of the writer were not criminals and detectives, but Kittens. A three-four-year-old girl, not getting bored, spent hours and days in their mustachioed-striped fictional society, much for the most exciting adventures. But time passed, and the Kittens gave way to study, the impressions of youth, and falling in love.

When the power of fiction reasserted itself, it was already tinged with ambition: to write a detective novel! And it was written - "The Mysterious Crime in Styles", but - forgotten. When her engagement to Archibald Christie, once broken off, resumed and ended in marriage when her daughter was born, it was more important and interesting for Mrs. Christie to find an apartment, to hire a nanny. The world could easily be deprived of "Ten Little Indians", and "Murder on the Orient Express", and everything else. The publishers at Bodley Head realized just in time: a modest fee was just right for a young family. So the wheel of fate turned, and already “when we went to Hammersmith, to the Dance Palace to celebrate this event, there was someone else with us, although I had no idea about it. Hercule Poirot, my fictional Belgian; from now on I dragged him everywhere with me, like a dwarf his hump.

It took a long time to drag - many of the impressions and information were embodied in detective stories a quarter, or even half a century after their real existence: the service of young Agatha in a pharmacy, pharmaceutical operations with poisons, an incident on a hunt or at the races, the story of Father Burroughs at excavations in Ure, near Baghdad... The writer never "copied" her life, but with great pleasure she collected its small details and put them into use at an opportunity.

By the beginning of World War II, Agatha Christie was already a trendsetter in detective fashion. Her heroes Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple in millions of copies shone with powers of observation and intellect. And one day they met. In a bank vault. Fearing to be killed during an air raid, the author placed her two new manuscripts in a jar with dedicatory inscriptions. The affair with Poirot was intended for her second husband, Max Mallowan, and with Miss Marple, for her daughter Rosalind. “When you return from a funeral or from a funeral service, you will be warmed by the consciousness that each of you has my book. They replied that they preferred me to books ... I don’t understand why people are always so embarrassed by talking about death. Agatha Christie finished her memoirs in 1965 at the age of 75 with the words: “Thank you, Lord, for my good life and for all the love that was bestowed on me.”