Recap (Chapter 23 – End)

Here’s my recap for you. Or maybe it should be my first question. Are you as emotionally drained after finishing How the Light Gets In as I am? Now, to the actual recap of the book in which Louise Penny unites us with Gamache and the villagers as we wait and prepare, building the tension until it’s so unbearable it has to conclude, as she says, with an explosive ending. Do not read this recap or conclusion if you have not finished the book. This recap is a spoiler.

Thérèse Brunel continues to tell her husband, Jérôme, the terrible story of the treachery at the top of the Sûreté du Québec, and Gamache’s actions that led both to the people’s admiration and to continuing enmity from some of the leadership. And then Gamache adds an unknown quantity to the mixture in Three Pines. He brings in Agent Yvette Nichol, who no one, not even Gamache, knows if he can trust.

It’s the beginning of a long stretch of tension in the book. No one knows if they can trust Nichol, but they need her to set up computer equipment so they can reach out from the isolated village and uncover hidden computer files from the Sûreté.

The only break from the tension comes when Gamache turns back to the investigation of the Ouellet murder, handing Constance’s Christmas presents out to the villagers. It’s Myrna’s gift of a tuque, a hat, that begins to prey on his mind, leading him to search for a missing member of the family, someone who could be a killer. It’s that search for answers that leads him back to Montréal, first to drop off the tuque so he can check on DNA, and then to his department at the Sûreté, where he dismisses the entire staff, effectively shutting it down, and tells Inspector Lacoste he will announcing his resignation in the next day or two.

But his trip back to the Sûreté a second time is shocking, when Jean-Guy Beauvoir turns on him and threatens him with a gun, blaming Gamache for everything, even in the face of the man who says he loves him. Nevertheless, Gamache finishes his errands, meeting with those who may have clues to the story of the Ouellet Quintuplets, before returning to Three Pines.

When they set in motion the plan to dig into those computer files, Gamache and his team are horrified to discover that the plot they’re investigating leads all the way to the Premier of Québec. As they begin to unravel the power grab related to money, death, and a scheme to kill thousands in order to create a new country, the computer hackers in Three Pines attract the attention of the police in the Sûreté. But it’s too late. Gamache’s small group have linked the stories of corruption to top leadership and even the murder of Audrey Villeneuve, who knew more than she should. It’s a story of allowing construction projects to go unfulfilled so they can destroy a dam, a tunnel or a bridge. And it will take one more trip to Montréal for Gamache to wrap up the loose ends. Warning the Brunels and Agent Nichol to stay hidden, he leaves Three Pines hoping to lead Francoeur to follow him. After he’s gone, Myrna and the villagers show up to lead the Brunels and Nichol to safety.

Conclusion

All the storylines quickly begin to converge. While Gamache wraps up the investigation involving Audrey Villeneuve, he learns why she was murdered. She was about to tell the wrong person, the Premier, Georges Renard, about the structural weakness of the Champlain Bridge. Gamache warns Lacoste to close that bridge before it’s blown up. In the meantime, Myrna wraps up the story of Constance Ouellet and her siblings, telling the story of Gamache’s discovery that there was one more child, a younger son, who grew to hate his sisters, and killed some of them. And, Francouer, Tessier, and a small team head to Three Pines, led by Jean-Guy Beauvoir.

While the villagers put off the police, hiding the Brunels and Nichol, Gamache is on a mad dash back to Three Pines. But Francouer and Tessier are waiting for him. While they think they have him trapped, he jeers at them, informing them his announcement of his resignation was a signal to his former officers, still loyal to him, to take over the Sûreté du Québec. He and Francouer fight to the death, and Gamache dashes toward the schoolhouse to save Jean-Guy from dying in an explosion that has been rigged. But, Jean-Guy, realizing that Gamache does love him, turns up, and is forced to shoot Gamache to stop him from entering the schoolhouse, and blowing himself up when he opens the door.

The final scenes of the wedding and reception for Jean-Guy Beauvoir and Annie Gamache are set in Three Pines after Gamache’s recuperation and Jean-Guy’s stint in rehab. And, even though Armand and Reine-Marie Gamache have retired to Three Pines, Reine-Marie informs Jean-Guy that Armand might retire, but he can’t quit.

Favorite Quotation

My favorite quote now is not one I would have picked a year ago when I first read How the Light Gets In. It’s actually Ruth’s statement to Jean-Guy when he brings Francouer’s forces to Three Pines. In talking about Rosa, Ruth actually talks about so much more, as she often does. She talks about Jean-Guy, and, now we know, she talks about the next book in the series, hinting at future events.

Ruth says, “She took the long way home. Some do, you know. They seem lost. Sometimes they might even head off in the wrong direction. Lots of people give up, saying they’re gone forever, but I don’t believe that. Some make it home, eventually.”

Discussion Questions

1. Did you anticipate the brazen plot Renard had hatched? Before reading it, what did you think the plot was all about?
2.  Let’s talk about the Ouellette storyline. Who did you think the killer was, and why?
3.  My favorite scene in the book wasn’t the wedding, but the moment after Thérèse Brunel opens the door to find Myrna there to take them to a safe place, and sees Clara, Gabri, Olivier, and Ruth and Rosa. “The end of the road.” What was your favorite moment in the book, and why?
4.  Who showed the most courage in the book, and why? Gamache, Jean-Guy Beauvoir, the villagers? Someone else?
5.  What did you think was happening when Gamache told Lacoste he was resigning?
6.  Talk about “Old sins have long shadows.”
7.  What do Ruth and Rosa mean to you?
8.  In a book with so many surprises, which one stood out for you?

Introduction

As we wrap up the discussion on the eve of publication of the tenth book, The Long Way Home, it’s obvious how much Louise Penny and her creations are admired. Robin Agnew, co-owner of Aunt Agatha’s Bookstore, and discussion leader here for The Cruelest Month, was recently quoted in the Ann Arbor Observer. “In my twenty-one years of selling books, I’ve never encountered the passion that people feel for Penny.”

In this forum, readers, librarians, editors, booksellers and publicists have discussed Louise Penny’s books. We’ve talked about Penny herself, how we met her, and how we’ve all grown to see her as a friend. We’ve discussed the settings, whether Three Pines, Montréal, Québec or a monastery. We’ve grown to love her characters; Armand Gamache, Jean-Guy Beauvoir, Reine-Marie, Clara, Ruth, Myrna, Gabri, Olivier, even a duck. And perhaps we’ve all discovered it’s hard to separate Louise Penny, the author and friend, from Three Pines, a place of comfort, where Gamache and his friends return time and again. Do we share a passion for Louise Penny because of who she is, or because of who she is and the gift of the world she has given us?

In How the Light Gets In, Armand Gamache acknowledges that Three Pines is not Eden. “Three Pines, he knew, was not immune to dreadful loss. To sorrow and pain. What Three Pines had wasn’t immunity but a rare ability to heal. And that’s what they offered him.”

Before we can heal, we must suffer. Louise Penny’s first nine books are a finished circle in themselves. We’ve gone from an introduction to Three Pines and Gamache, meeting them both in Still Life. We’ve watched him struggle with past history in the Sûreté du Québec, watched the situation there grow worse, and, now, in How the Light Gets In, we see the culmination of the epic battle between forces, the battle between good and evil. And, of course, it culminates in Three Pines.

One of the underlying story cycles of this series is finished. Gamache and Three Pines will go on, both somewhat changed from their experiences. I see the series as a Venn diagram. There is overlap. Gamache, Three Pines, many of the characters. We still need to find out what happens to Peter and Clara. But the first nine books will always be “Before the events of How the Light Gets In,” while the next books will be, “After the events of How the Light Gets In.”

Thank you for reading with us, discussing Louise Penny’s amazing series. It’s been an honor and privilege to participate in these discussions.

Recap (Chapters 1-22)

The opening chapter introduces a woman who remains a mystery in the first half of the book. Audrey Villeneuve’s story will come to light in the second half. Here, we only see her as a terrified driver viewing the cracks in the Ville-Marie Tunnel. When Gamache questions later, he learns she was a possible suicide victim and a clerk in the roads division of the Ministry of Transport. Audrey Villeneuve’s storyline is kept for the second half of the book.

The second storyline is introduced in chapter two. Constance PIneault, a friend of Myrna’s, leaves the village of Three Pines, with promises to return for Christmas. She left with a statement about playing hockey as a child, seeing it as revealing a secret. Her failure to appear causes Myrna, owner of the bookstore, to contact Gamache.

In chapter three, we learn that Chief Inspector Armand Gamache’s homicide division is under the gun. Chief Inspector Francoeur has torn it apart. The old guard, beginning with Jean-Guy Beauvoir, once Gamache’s protégé, has been transferred out, leaving Isabelle Lacoste and a group of rabble who have been transferred in. The most successful homicide team in the nation has been gutted, and Jean-Guy is emotionally destroyed, addicted to pills. Instead of a crack team, Gamache has a squad whose members are surprised to learn that “he actually believed it. Believed the Sûreté du Québec was a great and effective police force. A breakwater between the citizens and those who would do them harm.” We see that only Lacoste remains loyal to Gamache, the only one within the division who still respects him.

The three storylines slowly come together as Gamache responds to Myrna’s request. He and Lacoste leave for Three Pines. Along the way, they observe a body, later learned to be Audrey Villeneuve’s, being retrieved from the waters of the St. Lawrence.

When Constance Pineault did not show up in Three Pines, Myrna was worried about the seventy-seven-year-old woman. It’s only then that she reveals Constance’s true identity. She was one of the famous Ouellet Quintuplets, once the most famous children in Canada, born to a simple farmer and his wife. When Gamache and Lacoste find Constance murdered in her home in Montréal, it leads to a fascinating story about the Quints. It also leads to a murder investigation, and Gamache agrees to handle it for his counterpart in the Montréal homicide division.

The timing for a murder investigation is perfect, as it provides an opportunity for Gamache to smuggle two friends into Three Pines. Thérèse Brunel, a Superintendent in the Sûreté, and her husband, Jérôme, a retired doctor turned cyber junkie, are helping Gamache dig for answers as to what’s truly going on in the police force. But Jérôme’s computer searches have caught unwanted attention, and it’s dangerous for everyone involved. Three Pines makes the perfect refuge. Or does it? They are safe, but also stuck.

A murder investigation involving a woman whose childhood was so celebrated that she doesn’t seem real. A build-up of tension as Gamache and his few allies dig for dangerous information. A seemingly unrelated death. A name from the past – Arnot. And, the first half of How the Light Gets In ends with Superintendent Francoeur and Inspector Tessier discussing the plot against Gamache, and their use of Jean-Guy Beauvoir. As they send him on raids, ply him with pills, play on his addiction, they see him as the unexploded bomb that could destroy Gamache.

Favorite Quote

I was so torn. Matthew 10:36 is a recurring quote and theme in the series. “And a man’s foes shall be they of his own household.” It’s so important in this series, and this particular book.

But this time, I picked a more positive one. It’s Gamache, reflecting on the dog, Henri. “But he realized Henri already knew all he’d ever need. He knew he was loved. And he knew how to love.”

Discussion Questions

• What did you know about the Dionne Quintuplets, the model for the Ouellets?
• Henri, Ruth, and Rosa often serve to alleviate the tension in the book, adding a little humor. I like comments such as “Henri, while a handsome dog, would never get into Harvard.” Do you have a favorite humorous scene or moment in this first half of the book?
• In describing Clara and housework, Penny says, “Clara Morrow was not someone who liked housework. What she liked was magic. Water into foam. Dirty dishes into clean. A blank canvas into a work of art. It wasn’t change she liked so much as metamorphosis.” How do you see this statement relate to Three Pines and the people who end up there?
• What do you think Gamache meant when he said, “He wondered in a moment that startled him, whether that’s what this little village was. The end of the road? And like most ends, not an end at all.”
• Over and over in the first half of the book, Penny emphasizes safety versus freedom, with Gamache and the Brunels in Three Pines, the Quints, the Crees. “They were safe, but also stuck, like the Quints. Made safe, given everything they wanted, except freedom.” How do you see safety versus freedom?
• Let’s talk about celebrity. Myrna looks at the Quints and says she wouldn’t wish celebrity on anyone. How do people suffer because of their celebrity?
• The shattered relationship between Jean-Guy Beauvoir and Annie Gamache is illustrated in the sad scene in which they sit in cars outside each other’s homes. In Jean-Guy’s case, “Now he was hungry. Starving. And he stank. The whole car reeked. He could feel his clammy undershirt sticking to him. Molding itself there, like a second skin.” At this point in the book, how do you feel about Jean-Guy Beauvoir?
• Ruth’s poem, “Alas,” can refer to so many people, although we now know she wrote it about Virginia Ouellet. Who do you think of in the book when you read “Who hurt you once/so far beyond repair/that you would greet each overture/with curling lip?”

Introduction

I had some opportunity while in Santa Fe pursuing opera this week to read some of the comments posted on The Beautiful Mystery, Part 1.

To address one, Louise has signed each year at The Poisoned Pen since arriving in 2009 with A Rule against Murder. On Labor Day, 2012, we webcast the discussion between Louise and me for The Beautiful Mystery. As it was part of her book tour it has no spoilers and you can watch it before reading on, or at any time. Watch here »

Bonus: on Labor Day, 2013, we webcast our discussion of How the Light Gets In. It will have some spoilers for The Beautiful Mystery but none for How the Light Gets In. Watch here »

And on Labor Day, September 1, 2014, we’ll be webcasting Louise talking about The Long Way Home. You can click in at 5:00 pm PST or any time thereafter. Watch here »

You can see we’re friends as well as colleagues after an improbable start that began in 2005 when a copy of Still Life arrived from Louise’s London publisher. I was enchanted by Louise’s loving and brilliant reimagining of the village mystery from the Golden Age of Crime Fiction—but set in Canada, Quebec, rather than in England. I imagined that Louise was probably British, although I smiled at the irony of her application of a classic British mystery structure to Quebec, knowing how some of the Québeçois have long and vociferously lobbied for separation from Canada, and thus the British Commonwealth. This new author must have an excellent sense of humor, thought I.

Eager to amass and sell tons of copies, I soon learned that the publisher had mostly sold out its print run. And that Louise was not British but lived in Quebec. The logistics of our usual procedure with outstanding debut fiction, obtaining signed copies of the first printing for customers, were hopeless, involving three countries and shipping nightmares. But I had another string to my bow, Toronto’s wonderful Sleuth of Baker Street bookstore, which generously supplied what copies it could and hooked us up with Louise, or rather lured her in to sign them for us. That was the start.

Imagine then our joy (I speak for me and The Poisoned Pen staff) when St. Martin’s/Minotaur bought Still Life and in time the rest of Louise’s work, and with her fourth Gamache, sent her to Scottsdale.

Generally when you as a reader are enchanted with the work of an author, the author’s voice, you begin to imagine how that author might be as a person. Creating a sort of hagiography. Only you know if the reality, should you chance to meet the author or observe the author say through the webcast links given above, meshes with your vision of the author. I refer you to one of the quotes I cite below. “Ecce homo.” Frère Mathieu utters these words when he’s dying. Frère Sébastien utters them to Gamache towards the end of Chapter 34. If the meet-the-author experience has been yours, if you in effect “Beheld” the person, then you will understand the relevance of Ecce homo in The Beautiful Mystery. It can be a risky business, meeting an author, who is, like you, merely human.

Second, let’s clear up the Locked Room Mystery. The LRM, or “impossible crime,” is a subgenre of detective fiction, a subset of the closed circle construct. The crime is committed under apparently impossible circumstances and presents a challenge from the author to the reader—work this one out! In the classic LRM the clues are there for the reader to spot but the author is skilled in massive misdirection. If you missed them while reading and went on to The Big Reveal at book’s end, it’s fun to go back and read the LRM a second time to admire the author’s artistry.

Let’s apply the LRM to The Beautiful Mystery. Frère Mathieu is one of 24 monks living in a cloistered community. He is murdered in the garden, an open space. There are thus 23 possible suspects and the question is, who-dunnit? Often determined by asking, why? Supplying the compelling motive. In The Beautiful Mystery, this task is so daunting that an unusual step is taken in Chapter 34 to cause the murderer to reveal himself. Gamache has figured out who-dunnit, but he needs verification. “It was a risk,” he says, to Frère Sébastien, the man Gamache got to sing the prior’s chant in hopes the murderer would react. “But I needed a quick resolution.” The detective also asks, who has the means to commit the murder? And the opportunity? Any monk had the means to kills Mathieu. Both Gamache and the abbot eventually work out who was the monk with the opportunity. In the final chapter, they arrive at the motive.

Now suppose that Frère Mathieu was found dead in a windowless cell (his bedroom). The roof fits tightly, with no trap doors or dormers or chimneys or thatch you can raise for exit. The floor is tiled. The door is tightly fitted and of stout oak and has a secure lock. When the monks break down the door (with an axe), the key, the only key, is found in the lock on the inside.

What do we have? Death by natural causes? Suicide (are the means at hand?)? A homicidal angel (or demon) visitation? A clever killer who, most likely, is well alibied? Sometimes this is the first line of investigation: cause of death. And the second is, how-dunnit? Deducing how-dunnit identifies who-dunnit, and the why of it emerges.

An older and rickety example of the LRM can be found in Sherlock Holmes’ “The Case of the Speckled Band.” I’ve always felt that the fact the bed is fixed to the floor is such a big clue the rest should have been obvious. The master of the LRM is one John Dickson Carr who wrote copiously, and also as Carter Dickson. Edward D. Hoch is his American analogue. And let’s not overlook the Queen of Crime, Agatha Christie, with And Then There Were None. And if I could think of the title, a fiendishly clever Reginald Hill mystery.

I felt I should address the LRM from your posts. But, back to The Beautiful Mystery. The village Louise imagines is Three Pines. It is not a place where the whole population can either be murdered—or become murderers. Nor can the village credibly become host to a continual influx of victims or killers. Otherwise it’s Cabot’s Cove.

Three Pines can remain the touchstone, the home base, but Armand Gamache has a broad writ—the whole of Quebec. One reason I like The Beautiful Mystery so well is the way Louise sweeps us up and off to a new location, one with an even less porous perimeter and a smaller population of suspects than Three Pines. So she’s upping her game by circumscribing the scene of the crime more tightly.

Which brings me to world-building. Introduce a place like Three Pines, or the monastery of Saint-Gilbert-Entre les-Loups, at once real and not, and you touch upon the power of fantasy, or epic fiction. Some real world rules can be suspended. Three Pines is at once a place to live, and an escape. To observe an investigation there immerses the reader in the village (or the monastery) for an experience with an added dimension to watching an investigation unfold in real time in a real place, say, Los Angeles.

Magical landscapes are luminous, glorious, touch us. Yet dangerous. Edan Lepucki, reviewing Lev Grossman’s The Magician’s Land, another example of world-building, underlines one of Louise’s dominant themes: “But enchanted worlds can be as devastating as our own, and good and evil don’t bifurcate as neatly as we would like.

Read the discussion on the very last two pages where Gamache, having watched the plane carrying away Jean-Guy Beauvoir, turns to the abbot. And the abbot asks him, “Do you know why we’re called Saint-Gilbert-Entre-les-Loups? Why our emblem is two wolves intertwined?” Gamache does not know, nor do we, but then the abbot lifts the curtain…. It’s a bit Brothers Grimm, a touch of the dark fairy tale, of something scary, feeding the beast within.

World-building goes hand in hand with fandom. Fandom is a community wherein, for readers who’ve accepted and enjoyed the special world the author has created, something slightly magical, something apart from daily life, happens. And fans bond with other fans to share its magic. And become apostles, spreading the word in a geometric progression. The Poisoned Pen is Diana Gabaldon’s home bookstore so we know this progression well.

We may be in a special world with Louise, but real world rules, human strengths, weaknesses, and emotions, remain. In The Beautiful Mystery, as in the real world around us, we’re looking at orthodoxy vs. change, tradition vs. modernity. Holding on to the core while embracing the new. “Some malady is coming upon us.” “Modern times,” adds Frère Sébastien. Forcing us to embrace change, so difficult for humans, even monks. Where do the cloistered Ghilbertines touch the modern world? Does the one most ready to embrace change, to further change, consciously put himself at risk? Or is he naïve or willfully blind not just to danger to himself but to the danger arising to others? Through fear? Through jealousy? If you are jealous, you fear you won’t be able to hold on to what you have or have attained. Jealousy doesn’t just apply to sex, or love of others, but to love of self.

History furnishes us with innumerable examples of what can happen when the prospect of change appears, when a rift in a society opens frightening those desperate for it to close. Jewish zealots. Catholic inquisitors. Puritan witch-hunters. Militant Islam. Or a monk who feared another would ruin the (Gregorian) chants—an irony in that, as Louise points out, we don’t know how they sounded originally but only as they have come down to us through the development of musical notation. A monk determined to be the guardian of what is, not of what is to come. Or is it that the monk feared exclusion, that he was jealous of his role in the choir. “All I wanted was to sing the chants?…Why wasn’t that enough?”

I wonder how The Beautiful Mystery reads according to the reader’s faith. To what the reader brings to the story. I’ve already pointed out my own lifelong love for music, for the beauty of the human voice, and emotional/neural reactions to music. But for me, there’s more. I made my first trip to Quebec as a young teen, going from Chicago to Montreal and then to Quebec City, then boarding a small ship and sailing down the St. Lawrence and, making a left turn, up the Saguenay River towards St. Anne de Beaupré. The church/shrine is Canada’s Lourdes, an important Catholic pilgrimage destination. To sail towards it on a dark yet starry night, towards an edifice lit like a beacon and with music (I think it was actually a commercial recording of Ave Maria, but hey…) pouring forth over the water… It made a beautiful mystery, especially to an Anglican unprepared for such Catholic ritual and ceremony. I’ve since spent a lot of time in England listening to boys’ choirs (St. Paul’s, York, Durham, Wells, Canterbury) and tried to imagine those unearthly, incredibly beautiful outpourings translated to a venue like that night on the river—although they are astonishing and beautiful in their home cathedrals. I especially like to hear those voices sing plainchant at Evensong (the sung version of Evening Prayer). I am almost entirely secular, yet the ceremony of the whole is incredibly moving. For the monks living their cloistered life, how much more so. For one, too much so? I wonder what each of you brings to reading the book and how your experiences and beliefs interact with the story. This belongs in “questions”, but fits better here.

Finally, I mentioned Louise’s genius at seeding plots earlier, her gift for long-range planning, creating story arcs that sweep her characters (and readers) from book to book, propelling us through the series always wondering what next. The Beautiful Mystery is about the murder of one monk, but it’s also the story of Jean-Guy Beauvoir’s journey which begins with a scene with his lover, Gamache’s beloved daughter Annie, and travels past confrontation and choice onto an airplane lifting into the sky. We want to call it back. We know his story isn’t over. We are fearful and we wonder and we can’t wait for the story’s continuation. I am in awe of how carefully Louise sets up How the Light Gets In –and how surprising it turns out to be.

Recap (Chapters 18-34)

Chapter 17 brought Francoeur into the picture and has Gamache hoping to see more clearly, not only the monks, his suspects, “But also the motives of the man in front of him. Who’d dropped so precipitously from the skies, with a purpose.” We see some of this purpose at Chapter 34, but in fact it will take How the Light Gets In to truly illuminate it. So, Gamache and Beauvoir sit in the Blessed Chapel, not quite as one, and ask “whether it was ever right to kill one for the sake of the many.” Gamache in asking is thus on track for motive. And identifying the murdering monk.

Chapter 18 develops Beauvoir’s story. We learn he hasn’t been on Oxy for months, since Gamache confronted him, took away the pills, got him help. This is ominous. Will being in the monastery despite the murder bring Beauvoir peace, or exacerbate his issues? Chapter 19 heats up the war between Francoeur and Gamache, illuminating their mutual loathing, discussing the crime. And so it goes on.

In Chapter 27 we get a good window into Dom Philippe, the abbot, his responsibilities and his sense of failure as the monks’ spiritual and physical shepherd. And Frère Sébastien arrives from Rome. Gamache quickly realizes that the murder comes as a surprise to the young man and that he has come, paddled his way to the monastery, for some other reason. He’s a Dominican, not a Ghilbertine. Which is revealed at the chapter’s end. Chapter 33 complicates Beauvoir’s story with a reintroduction of drugs.

And Chapter 34, in a variation of the classic detective story wrap up (think Nero Wolfe in his study) that plays upon many emotions and pulls together various threads, reveals the murderer and the why of it, propels Beauvoir in an unexpected direction, and prepares Gamache for future confrontation.

Favorite Quotes

“Ecce homo,” John 19:5 “Behold the man,” spoken by Pontius Pilate and by Frère Mathieu as he was dying.

“Some malady is coming upon us.” —TS Elliot, Murder in the Cathedral

Discussion Questions

•  Here is the Third Collect from The Book of Common Prayer for Evensong, “Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, O Lord; and by thy great mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night.” Is this strictly the province of the Lord, or is it also the province Armand Gamache sees for himself? Is he harsh with himself if he falls short of defending someone from “all perils and dangers”? Should he be?
• What act and by what person, do you feel is the most evil in The Beautiful Mystery? (Hint: malice aforethought is essential to a charge of murder in the first degree).
• Do you fear change and if so, has reading The Beautiful Mystery made you more (or less) receptive? More conscious of accelerating change all around us?
• Did you exit this book hardly able to wait until Louise’s next? If so, why?
• “Words are effective not because of what they carry in them, but for their latent potential to unlock the accumulated experience of the reader.” (Peter Mendelsund) Does this help explain your responses to Louise’s work?
• Are you a Louise Penny reader, or a fan (in the way I discuss both above)? If you are reading this, and posting, does that answer the question?