INTRODUCTION BY SARAH MELNYK
When I came to Minotaur as a publicist in 2008, I was told that soon I’d begin working with the talented Louise Penny. I was handed a galley of A Rule Against Murder. It was July, and I dove into this wonderful summertime mystery, entranced. I had the utmost pleasure reading it, with its enchanting prose, exquisite storytelling, and a vivid cast of characters. Ghostly father figures lurk, their children left behind to ponder their anxieties and disappointments. Nothing is quite as it seems. I luxuriated in the setting of the Quebec forest with its creatures and secrets, the sprawling Manoir Bellechasse, and the strange Morrow family, who share DNA, a mutual distrust of one another, and not much else. And I met the Gamaches for the first time . . . Reine-Marie and Armand, celebrating their anniversary. Their loving union was a poetic and clever foil to the Morrows’ quiet hostility toward one another. I was hooked.
Those who have read Louise Penny’s books always remember their first one. A Rule Against Murder will always be one of my favorites for this reason. It does not take place in the beloved Three Pines, true, but Louise begins a journey here that explores Quebec and its history a bit deeper. To do this, we have to leave Three Pines from time to time.
I still remember speaking to Louise on the phone for the first time that late July. What was to come of that conversation was one of the most rewarding relationships I’ve found since becoming a publicist. We brainstormed about strategy for her new book, and I came away once again entranced, but also energized. That conversation that was the first of many fun strategy conversations with one of the cleverest minds I know. Many have asked me what it is like to work with Louise Penny. It is the same as reading one of her books: it is a powerful―and empowering―experience, sprinkled with some mischievous laughter along the way.
RECAP
Ch. 1-12: In the prologue, we meet the magnificent Manoir Bellechasse and its many makers, and its troublesome history before being turned into the finest auberges in Quebec. And we are forewarned: “The Robber Barons were back. They’d come to the Manoir Bellechasse once again, to kill.”
Gamache and Reine-Marie, following a decades-long tradition, have arrived at the Manoir Bellechasse to celebrate their thirty-fifth anniversary. The owner, Clementine Dubois, greets them warmly. But she apologizes and says that they unfortunately will have one of the smaller rooms in the back, as the Manoir is completely booked because of a family reunion. The Gamaches, simply happy to be there and see the ancient Madame Dubois one more year, begin their leisurely and luxurious stay. As the days pass, the Gamaches slowly get a sense of the wealthy Finneys:
Irene Finney: The Matriarch. Plump with soft white hair, with lots of white makeup to match her white complexion. “She looked like a soft, inviting, faded pillow, propped next to a cliff face.”
Bert Finney: The cliff face, Irene’s impossibly ugly husband, nearing ninety, Gamache guesses. He doesn’t say much, but seems courtly in his own way.
Thomas: The oldest brother, slim and attractive, and the most successful of all of the siblings. He’s polished yet cold, and likes to provoke his siblings.
Sandra: Thomas’ wife, seemingly bursting at the seams with insecurity and unhappiness and constantly making unreasonable demands on the staff of the Manoir Bellechasse.
Julia: The oldest daughter. Fair, lovely, and charming, she married a wealthy man, but is undergoing a divorce after his fraudulent investment practices came to light, and caused a very public scandal.
Marianna: The ugliest of all of the children, both in manners and appearance, she seems like an interloper to the family. She’s the only sibling who has a child, whom she seems to be raising in a very strange way.
Bean: Marinanna’s child, blond and beautiful, ten years old and often escaping into books and imagination. It’s not immediately apparent if Bean is a boy or a girl.
Gamache notices that this doesn’t feel like a very close or warm family. With the exception of Bert Finney, who is friendly to the Gamaches, the rest of the family seem ill at ease, trading awkward silences for subtle barbs toward one another. A couple of the Finneys surmise that Armand and his wife must be some sort of shopkeeper and cleaning woman since they were staying in a “broom closet” of a room at the Manoir.
The terrible heat and humidity feel like threat of what is to come. Pierre, the maître d’, has warned the guests that a storm is coming. What should be a relaxing retreat so far seems peppered with problems. Thomas and Julia both mention that Spot and Claire, the last of their siblings and his wife, will be arriving soon, and hint that they’re the worst ones of the family—hard to believe given what the family is like. Julia in particular is dreading it, and during an illicit smoke outside one evening, she confides to Gamache that her family makes her miserable.
Armand Gamache also hears some news from home that is unsettling for him. Reine-Marie had talked with their daughter-in-law, and learns they may name their baby after Armand’s father if it’s a boy. It’s meant to be a wonderful gesture, but to Armand, it’s troubling.
The staff at the Manoir have their own problems. Pierre, the maître d’ who has worked there for decades, is having trouble with the young Elliot. He’s one of the new servers and openly challenges Pierre’s authority, causing mischief among the ranks. Normally Pierre is exceptionally patient, and has trained young workers summer after summer, but Elliot seems a special case. Chef Veronique, who has also worked there for as long as Pierre has, tries to support the maître d’ who is also her friend, and asks him why Elliot gets to him. Pierre doesn’t have an answer.
The morning arrives that the loathsome final pair of Finneys are to arrive, but to the Gamaches’ surprise and delight, it turns out to be Peter and Clara Morrow, who they know from Three Pines. “Spot” was the nickname his siblings gave him. The two couples rejoice in seeing one another at the Manoir.
Gamache and Reine-Marie then learn from Madame Dubois that the whole family isn’t the Finney family—they are the Morrow family. Charles Morrow, Irene’s first husband, had died some time ago, and then she married Burt Finney. The children are Morrows. And the reason for this family reunion is to unveil a statue in Charles Morrow’s image that will sit forever on the grounds of the Manoir Bellechasse. Gamache had wondered about a huge marble plinth sitting very unnaturally on a corner of the grounds earlier. Soon, Madam Dubois says, the statue will arrive, and the grand unveiling will take place.
Clara especially feels uncomfortable with Peter’s refined but rude family—his mother calls her “Claire,” even after Clara being married to her son for years—and they ignore her good news that she will soon have her own solo show at the prestigious Galerie Fortin in Montreal. Clara came to the reunion to protect Peter from this horrid family, but that becomes difficult when Peter seems to regress in their presence, almost not in control of his own voice anymore—which is a source of at least one fight between the couple while they’re there.
Bean finds trouble when playing near the marble plinth and gets attacked by bees. Gamache removes the stingers and poison sacs and Reine-Marie applies calamine and kisses them better, while the rest of the Morrows stand nearby, squabbling with one another.
The big moment of the unveiling of the statue finally arrives, and is strangely anticlimactic. The Morrows say nothing after the canvas hood comes off, and continue on with their day.
The Gamaches take a look later, and are struck by the strangeness of it. The statue of Charles Morrow seems odd: While it looks as if he’s about to take a step, the figure does not look powerful and authoritative. His head is bowed, and although he’s about to say something, whatever he’s seeing has literally turned him to stone. Gamache wonders how the Morrows really feel about the statue.
That same evening, the guests are mingling and talking. The Gamaches talk breezily with Peter and Clara, and share some embarrassing news about the first time Armand met Reine-Marie’s family. Just then the rest of the Morrow children—Thomas, Marianna, and Julia—join them and overtake the conversation. Thomas throws a barb at Julia meant to hurt, and it has the desired effect—she loses her temper and rails at her siblings one by one, before saying to the room, “I know Daddy’s secret” and running outside. Reine-Marie and Gamache follow her, and through her tears, she tells them she’ll probably have to leave first thing in the morning: “They’ll never forgive me, you know.”
The storm that had been building finally hits in the middle of the night with startling force. The electricity goes out, torrential rain pounds at the windows and violent thunder and lightning attack the area. Gamache and his wife help the frazzled staff close some banging windows and doors. The storm eventually moves on, leaving behind cool breezes in its wake, and everyone goes back to bed.
The house wakes to sodden earth and drizzle, and the residents being to settle in for a lazy rainy day. But they hear terrible screams—Bean has been wandering and discovers the attic, filled with old taxidermy from the days when the inn was a hunting and fishing lodge. After Madame Dubois and the Gamaches sooth the frightened child, Irene Finney scolds Bean and makes Bean apologize for trespassing—an apology that Madame Dubois does not want from the frightened little one. After things settle down, they hear more screams—or is it crying?—this time from outside. Bean just wants more attention, Thomas retorts.
Gamache and Pierre walk towards the sound anyway. They find Colleen the gardener, sobbing and frightened, staring at the statue. The huge statue of Charles Morrow had indeed taken that step—and stepped right off the plinth. And onto his daughter, Julia. Crushing her.
Pierre and Gamache are stunned. They lead the shocked gardener inside, where Gamache calls his second in command, Jean-Guy Beauvoir from the Sûreté de Québec, and tells him to come to the Manoir at once. Gamache breaks the tragic news to the family that Julia has been killed. They are disbelieving, even angry with Gamache. Irene Finney insists that she must see her daughter—a request to which Gamache eventually relents later in the day after the Sûreté de Quebec arrive—and she sees with utter horror her first daughter, killed inexplicably by the statue of her late husband. Charles, what have you done?
Beauvoir and Agent Lacoste and the other officers arrive, and secure the site. Julia’s death seems impossible. How could a statue that large could simply fall over, and on to a living person? The coroner begins an investigation, and discovers dirt under the corpse—not mud. Julia was killed before the storm; not during, not after. So the storm could not have knocked down the statue. Gamache understands then that this had to have been murder. Statues just don’t just fall down. Something—someone—made it happen.
As they begin their investigation, some of the Morrows feel fairly certain they know who did it—the shopkeeper and the cleaning lady! They tell one of the local officers, who brings the information immediately to Gamache’s team so they can follow up. After a chuckle, the family is finally told that the shopkeeper, Armand Gamache, is actually the famous head of homicide for the Sûreté de Québec. And he will find out who killed Julia.
Madame Dubois urges this. “What happened here isn’t allowed,” she says. When she and her husband bought the Manoir Bellechasse decades ago, they made a pact with the forest: there would be no more unnatural death, no more killing. There is no more hunting and fishing, birds are fed in the winter, mice are even caught alive and released. She’s seen what happens when creatures turn on each other. And she warns Gamache: “You must find out who did this. Because I know one thing for sure. If a person would kill once, they’d kill again.”
Ch. 12-32: The family and staff absorb the news about Julia Martin’s death at the Manoir Bellechasse.
Elliot the young server rages at the news of her death, and threatens to quit. He’s told he can quit his job, but leaving the Manoir is out of the question while they investigate the murder. Pierre the matre d’ tries to show duty and diligence by continuing to show the guests professionalism and respect a trait his father would appreciate, he thinks. The power struggles get worse with Elliot, much to his chagrin. Colleen the gardener, who found the body, seems undone by the event. The shock only aggravates her loneliness in this very beautiful yet remote setting.
Mrs. Finney spooks the entire family by bursting into tears at dinner. Never has there been this display over emotion over any of the Morrow children. Bert Finney is trying to show his support to his wife, but the gestures are swallowed up and unseen by a grieving mother.
Peter seems lost, while Clara feels trapped and miserable. She tries to offer solace to the family, but finds herself either dismissed or the one to be comforted. Peter looks unkempt, messy, and distracted, while Clara looks serious, pressed and buttoned up a complete role reversal.
Marianna acts completely unmoved. She stuffs her face with food during her interview with Beauvoir as if nothing had happened. Thomas and Sandra vie for who gets to be interviewed first and by the most senior officer to boot. Gamache has to remind them that this isn’t a competition.
Bean retreats further into her imagination. She makes a constellation of stars made from half-eaten marshmallow cookies on the Manoir ceiling. In a rare moment of joyous spontaneity, Sandra joins her in the mischievous but fun activity.
Beauvoir is repulsed by this family and the country setting, filled with stinging insects. He is horrified when he learns from his interview with Marianna Morrow that she has purposely kept Bean’s gender a secret from her family, in order to drive her family crazy. He chalks it up to the “insanity of the Anglos.”
In a moment of misery, he stumbles into the kitchen and sees the gigantic Chef Veronique. He is mesmerized by her, and inexplicably drawn to her like a magnet. From that point on, he looks for reasons to be alone with her. He imagines staying at the Manoir forever, if only to be near her.
Agent Lacoste is drawn to the murder site. She can’t imagine how Julia Martin could be killed in such an impossible way. She begins her careful, quiet, meticulous investigating, and orders searches of all of the grounds, and the Manoir rooms.
Reine-Marie is dropped off in Three Pines to stay while Gamache and his team continue their investigation at the Manoir. They interview each family member, the crane company man who mounted the statue, as well as the artist of the statue himself. They gather evidence, including some crumpled notes and a sheaf of letters from Julia’s room.
The early evidence is conflicting and downright inconclusive. It seems unlikely that someone outside of the Manoir could have committed the murder, as the setting is completely remote. To complicate matters, the Morrows say different things about Julia: Mrs. Finney calls her the kindest, most sensitive of all of her children, while Peter characterizes her as “the cruelest, the greediest, of us all.” Thomas says it was a reunion, “a happy time,” and no one wanted to kill her. Beauvoir gazes out the window, silently reminding him of that lie.
Gamache, doing his best to lead the investigation, takes a moment to call his son Daniel. He has a moment of weakness and tells Daniel what he promised he wouldn’t: that he disagrees with the choice of the baby name, and naming him after his father is a mistake. He tells Daniel that life is hard enough without giving a child a name that will lead to abuse or bullying. Daniel is hurt, and the phone call ends badly.
In a painful twist, the Morrows make the connection with Armand Gamache’s name – and his father, who we learn was a national disgrace during World War II. He discouraged Canadian involvement in the war, even after the world knew Hitler had to be stopped. He had gained a following and his name was forever associated with the word “coward.” A word that the Morrows say to Gamache’s face with disdain.
The interview with the crane company reveals nothing helpful or useful – even the crane operator can’t imagine how the huge statue could have fallen. The interview with the sculpture artist doesn’t reveal anything conclusive, except that Bert Finney knew his best friend, Charles Morrow, better than any of his children did.
David, Julia’s ex-husband, now doing time in a correctional facility for his national investment fraud, is also interviewed. David is grief stricken, but he also reveals an interesting secret that defined the hatred that Peter felt for his sister.
After some further digging, Agent Lacoste learns that the Morrows are not actually what, or who, they seem:
Thomas Morrow: called the most successful of the bunch, he is actually the least successful. He has worked at the same firm since college and has not moved up the ladder, nor does he make much money.
Sandra Morrow: makes more than her husband Thomas. She’s doing well at her job, but has hit a glass ceiling. They’ve been living off of the inheritance from Thomas’ father, and it’s about to run out.
Peter Morrow: A prestigious artist, he refused the inheritance money, and he and Clara lived hand to mouth for years. His shows were successful in the past, always selling out, but he hasn’t had a show in a while. And he hated his sister Julia. He secretly played a cruel trick on her that had disastrous effects, causing the family to be forever ruptured.
Marianna Morrow: The interloper sibling who seems a cross between a hippy and a slob is actually by far the most successful of the bunch. She’s a self-made millionaire from a brilliant architect design she came up with in school. Furthermore, her creation was to help the poor – a single family home that was energy efficient and also handsome in design. She travels the world and speaks multiple languages.
Julia Morrow: had claimed on the witness stand during her ex-husband’s trial that she knew nothing about his investment fraud. But she was raised by a shrewd businessman for a father. How true could this be?
Bert Finney: Charles Morrow’s best friend. Everything he told the officers turns out to be true. He was an accountant who worked for his best friend Charles Morrow. But he lied about one thing in his past – that he was in captivity in Burma during World War II, one of the most inhumane, and unsurvivable places to be during the war. Yet he had survived. Who was this man, and why would he choose to be with this impossible family?
The staff, it turns out, is laden also with secrets that begin to come to light. Elliot is from the same neighborhood as Julia and her ex-husband in British Columbia. Elliot and Julia had made some sort of a connection – perhaps a flirtatious one – before she was killed. He was the one who wrote those notes to her. Pierre the matre d’ had worked in a graveyard before taking on the job at the Manoir Bellechasse. He was raised in a wealthy family before his father lost everything in a bad investment when he was quite young. And Chef Veronique turns out to be a Canadian national treasure – a former nun and celebrity chef with a highly popular cooking show back in the day. One day she simply up and left the monastery, and the spotlight, and completely disappeared. Since then she’s been at the great Manoir Bellechasse, where she could live a simpler life, away from scrutiny. Children all over Quebec had adored her – Beauvoir included.
As the Morrows begin to suspect one another, as every family member seems to have motive – most likely the need for money – the Gamaches head to Three Pines to celebrate both Canada Day and their wedding anniversary, July 1. Children play in the sunshine, lamb is roasted, bees hover over spilled Coke, and for a while, the Gamaches revel in the summertime celebration. It is during this visit that Gamache suddenly puts a few crucial pieces of information together. Reine-Marie sees the look on her husband’s face, and knows he is close to solving the murder.
Gamache races back to the Manoir, only to discover that Elliot is missing. Search parties begin looking for him, and in the midst of the confusion, Gamache tries to hunt down some final pieces of information with a couple of phone calls. But he is almost too late – the murderer has struck again, this time kidnapping Bean. In a heart-stopping climax, Gamache, the murderer, and Bean are at the top of the steep copper roof of the Manoir. One or all of them might not leave with their life.
The Morrows, each and every one of them watching with horror from the safety of the ground, now understand who killed their daughter, their sister. It all pointed back to Julia’s husband. The murderer took Julia’s life in a blind moment of rage, for everything he and his family lost in one of David’s early investment failures. And for the money and privilege she represented.
Gamache barely manages to save Bean’s life and his own. They are all brought in to safety, and the murderer, exhausted, confesses. The family and the staff discuss the clues, and the Morrow secrets are now out in the open. As old wounds are discussed, some amount of understanding and healing begins to seep in to this family, who have for so long misunderstood one another, as well as their father’s intentions.
Peter and Clara leave the Manoir, and Peter has a new understanding of his father. Bean seems to be doing fine despite the scare, and the Gamaches feel certain that this wonderful yet strange child will thrive. We learn a bit more about the Morrows, their pain, and how Bert Finney could survive such horror during the war. Gamache and Daniel make peace, and Armand and Reine-Marie look forward to the day they will meet their grandchild.
FAVORITE QUOTE
“Chef Veronique loved nature, and found plenty of time to study it, and she knew that sometimes something unnatural crawled out of the womb, out of the woods.”
“Madame Dubois knew, from bitter experience, you can’t always choose, or like, your family.”
“The Canadian wilderness didn’t give up her territory or her dead easily.”
“You can’t get milk from a hardware store.”
CONCLUSION
Julia Martin was killed in a moment of passion and rage. One of the commentators in Week One of the re-read discussion wisely made the point that A Rule Against Murder is just as much about fathers and sons as it is about family, and it’s true – we see the sons still existing in the long shadows of their fathers. The murderer tried to live a life his father could respect, but in the end, he murdered to avenge his failures. Fathers, alive or dead, shape us all, A Rule Against Murder says. But in Gamache’s case, he finds moments to choose the length of the shadow. To choose its shape.
Nothing was as it seemed with the Morrows – their successes, their hostilities, even their pain. Louise Penny shows how disfunction was introduced into the family, and given an environment to flourish. Irene Finney was beset with a physically painful disease unbeknownst to her children which made touch impossible, and it made her seem remote and unloving. Charles Morrow withheld his wealth from his children, and tried to instill a spirit of gamesmanship and risk so they could learn to become self-reliant. Instead it backfired, and created an atmosphere of intense competition between the siblings, and the life-long bruises began. Even with Bert Finney, we learn that he didn’t marry Irene for her vast fortune, but simply because he loved her his entire life.
A Rule Against Murder, also known as The Murder Stone, was published in the U.S. in January 2009. It is a layered, sensory-filled murder mystery in one of its most classic forms. The symbolism and subtexts alone are fascinating and plentiful. But A Rule Against Murder, to me, also represented prescient timing: the Bernie Madoff scandal had just broken, and Julia and David Martin represented the kind of devastating damage that can be done when avarice, an absence of ethics, and opportunity form a perfect storm. It’s not often a fiction publication can tie into breaking headline news, let alone one of the top news stories of the decade. It was impossible at the time to flout it too much when pitching, as a publicist never wants to point too much to a single motive when pitching mysteries. But five years later, it’s fun to think about, and remember the context when this extraordinary book came into the world.
Thank you so much for joining me in re-reading A Rule Against Murder. I look forward to seeing you on the discussion boards!
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
- We are introduced to the Morrow family. What member are you most drawn to?
- Who are some of the less obvious characters in A Rule Against Murder?
- Louise Penny’s books are filled with rich sensory experiences—sight, sound, taste, smell, touch. With A Rule Against Murder, we get the summertime sensory experiences, in addition to simple everyday ones. What are your favorite sensory passages or sentences in A Rule Against Murder?
- Louise Penny plays with duality, and in A Rule Against Murder we see the juxtaposition of the unnatural within the natural. How is this illustrated? What are some other themes that you see?
- Do you agree with Madame Dubois’ opinion about family? (See above under “Favorite Quotes”.) Can there sometimes be a choice to like your family?
- What are your favorite humorous moments from A Rule Against Murder?
264 replies on “Series Re-Read: A Rule Against Murder”
The setting combines the innocence of wilderness contrasted with the wealth of the visitors leaving a perfect stage for an unthinkable action.
Elina, good point. I think Penny helps build the tension of this contradiction when she describes how the Morrows wouldn’t dream of wearing a hat in the searing sun.
And the Morrows not wearing a hat in the sun is so like Jean Guy not wearing a parka in the winter…
I was struck in rereading this book by how much we learn about Jean Guy, small but important points that I missed in the first reading, dashing, as I was, to the finish.
I concur with your comment about. I just moved to a new residence, and, while having to guard the door so the movers were the only ones using it, went to the residence library and picked up “A Rule against Murder,” which I read years ago. Since I was, at the same time, reading “How the Light Gets In, ” I was struck by the contrast in Jean Guy — in Rule, he seems arrogant and a little shallow. In Light, he has bottomed out. However, he emerges in the end, as a deeper, more human person. I enjoyed the juxtaposition of his nature and increasing maturity and empathy in reading the two books side by side.
“Peter has a new understanding of his father” – I’m assuming this comes from his talk with Marianna and what her note said. I need to go back and read this bit again, more carefully. While he had the “makings” of a new understanding of his father, I wonder if any of it was anything he took to heart and really changed his view? As this book is the one I’ve always thought was an explanation for Peter’s stunted interior life, I’m interested in finding out if he is trying to change after this…
Part Two of our discussion is now live: http://gamacheseries.wpengine.com/a-rule-against-murder-part-2/
Join us!
THE POWER OF CHOICE
As we ponder the idea of choice, we usually note the actions of those involved, i.e., Peter chose to write on the bathroom wall, or Mrs. Morrow/Finney chose not to tell her family why she couldn’t hug them. Notice though that Milton’s poem is about the mind and the choices we make in our thoughts. I believe that in most cases our actions are the outward REactions to our inner understandings or misunderstandings. Does that sound like mishmash? How about some examples.
Peter read his father’s note about the men’s room stall and chose to be offended. Some other son might have read the same note and laughed believing it to be a right hilarious memo. Peter chose hell and used it against his father and his sister. Another might have chosen heaven calling father and sharing a moment of mirth.
We all, unknowing, experience both heaven and hell of our on choosing. I remember for many years when visits with my parents were over I would call out from the door, “Goodbye Dad! Goodbye Mom! I love you!”
One day my father stopped me and asked, “Why do you always say ‘I love you’ to your Mother but not me?”
I was stunned. In my heart the “I love you” was meant for both. For years he had believed otherwise and only thought to ask just a few weeks before his death.
How many times do we choose hell without ever asking, without ever clarifying, without knowing.
My blood chilled. I wonder what I have said that I thought was perfectly clear and was heard another way. Perhaps that is why some friends seem to disappear from our lives. We seldom know how others hear what we say. I’m so glad you had a chance to explain what you meant. I too would have said Goodbye the same as you. Knowing I meant both parents.
So interesting. I am so sorry to hear this – as I, too, think it’s perfectly clear. My parents never said “I love you” – it was simply not part of our “culture”. I worried this almost to death as a young adult, and decided that I would say it when I talked to them on the phone – my weekly, dutiful call, as we lived far apart (not an accident). It’s not that I didn’t think they loved me in their way – but that I knew none of us was very good at showing it, and I wanted to change that for myself. I didn’t want our whole lives to go by and nobody had ever said it.
It took several weeks before I got up the nerve and figured out a way for it to sound “natural”. At the end of one call, as I was about to say goodbye, I said – “Goodbye, Mom and Dad – I love you.” There was silence on the other end – then “Well, of course. We love you, too. Why would you say that?” To them, it was, apparently, so obvious that it never needed to be said. I never did again, but felt much easier about it after that.
I think the power of choice is one of the most important lessons we can learn here – it’s what we choose to do with the information, feelings, hurts, etc. that really defines what kind of life we will have. We all want a happy life. And people from these kinds of families do, too – they just have never been given the tools to figure out for themselves how to make that happen. There are a lot of people in the world who think that their happiness comes from other people. In that whole family, perhaps only Marianna, and therefore, Bean, know that you make yourself happy.
“How many times do we choose hell without ever asking, without ever clarifying, without knowing.”
Wow! And yes. I cherish the memory of one of my daughters asking me once if I were angry. I wasn’t. However, I realized my facial expression must at times seem more “severe” than I’d ever imagined. Bless that child for asking and giving me some insight.
Linda — your family story is a stunning example of “lost” communication — all of those occasions when we miss saying what we think we are saying, or intend to say, as in your case, or we “can’t” say the words, as in the mother in the story. I suspect this problem is increasing with the use of electronic messages, which lend themselves so easily to miscommunication.
You have helped me determine that I will pay better attention to what and how I say things to my family and friends, and NOT suffer in silence if I feel victimized by anyone. Thank you!
Re the duality: I believe this is … well, common to all of us within ourselves and in our life situations. It only becomes noticeable and even shocking in instances such as the end of this story. I really couldn’t believe this murderer had the capability of that kind of cruel and (to me) truly hasty action. He was obviously in his own created Hell, but I hadn’t realized it at all.
Talismans and mantras are not at all unusual, but I certainly don’t expect to find them in families against one another! This is an “if only” story for me, that is if only the mother had been more open with her children perhaps they would have grown up with some empathy for each other and others. If only dad hadn’t accidentally created the competition for affections, the siblings would have gotten to know and like each other, at least to some degree! Perhaps, however, that is just the way most lives go. If only …
. Louise Penny’s books are about duality, and they also explore the power of choice. The Milton poem, “The mind is its own place, and in itself / can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n.” How is this illustrated in respect to the characters’ lives? Do you also see instances of this in the first three books
I agree with Karen Gast, that we all have a duality within ourselves. This is not really a secret, either. Everyone knows there is a “dark side” to their personality. What’s important is the choices we make, everyday, whether to choose to do good, or to embrace our baser instincts. Shakespeare famously had one of the characters in his play Julius Caesar say, “the fault lies not in our stars but in ourselves”. If our actions were truly predestined, then we would not have such responsibility for the choices we make. As for the Milton quote, I think that is spot on. Especially in this book, we see how character’s choices have either turned their world into a heaven or hell. For Armand Gamache and his beloved Reine-Marie, they can make a heaven even out of a smallish room in the manoir which the Morrows foolishly describe as a “closet”. For the Morrows, no world, no matter how beautiful, is ever going to be enough to make a heaven for them, since they are living in their own hellish minds, and they continue to make the kind of wrong choices that guarantee their continued unhappiness.
As for how we could see examples of this in the first three books, I think there are plenty of examples. In Still Life, Jane Neal had created her own “long room” out of her house, and made life a heaven for herself. Myrna is another example of someone who chose a different path than the one she’d been following and also therefore created her own private heaven. Olivier and Gabri have both found Three Pines to be the fullfillment of their dreams, so for them it’s a heaven as well.
Ben Hadley, on the other hand, in spite of his benign appearance, was living a hellish life. Fearing that he was going to be financially cut off by his mother, he murdered her, and then Jane Neal, his former school teacher, just because he feared she had figured out that he really had no alibi. And for people truly living a hellish life, I don’t think anyone comes close to Yolanda and her family. Sorry, this is all I have time for right now. Will come back to this later.
Jane, You reminded me of something that has just jarred me when I reread this book and made me a little ??? – haven’t come up with an adjective that just nails it yet.
This is book 4 of this series. In each, we’ve seen a number of repeated similarities.
A. SETTINGS: (Primary Places: remote or isolated & Time: Major Holiday)
1, Still Life – Three Pines (3P’s) & Thanksgiving
2. Fatal Grace – 3 P’s & Christmas to New Years
3. Cruelest Month – 3 P’s & Easter
4. Rule Against Murder – Manoir Bellechasse & Canada Day (July 1)
(Definitely a Penny pattern here! Book 5 takes place around Labor Day!)
B. ASSORTED MURDERS and METHODS of MURDER
1. Still Life – Timmer Hadley, smothered
– Jane Neal – shot with bow and arrow
– Clara Morrow – attempted but failed
2. Fatal Grace – CC’s mother El – strangled
– CC de P- electrocuted
3. Cruelest Month – Madeleine F – poisoned
– Lilium (either Nature or Ruth’s assistance)
– *genocide of Cree peoples – no law enforcement, alcohol poisoning, individual & mass shootings/
exterminations
4. Rule Against Murder – Julia Morrow Martin – squished by giant Daddy statue
(Definitely a varied methodology, but the most *egregious of all of these has been barely mentioned.)
C. REPEATED CHARACTER TRAIT:
There has been a repeated character trait that has run through each of the “doers” of these crimes (for the most part) and in a number of other characters.
We see, time after time, someone who feels entitled to do whatever he/she wants because Life hasn’t given them what they wanted or expected when they wanted. I’m sorry, know my own prejudice is coming out, but I have very little if any patience with some one who has had a very privileged life doing a whine-and-moan about how “unfair” Life is because one doesn’t get what one wants – when one wants it; because Mummy & Daddy didn’t love me enough or pay enough attention. This petty, immature, self-absorption really becomes tiresome. Granted, not all of these “offenders” have experienced ‘privileged’ lives, but it seems as if we’ve been over run with “Me-First” characters who 1) have little or no empathy for others 2) demonstrate little if any evidence of self-reflection 3) feel entitled.
1. Still Life – Ben Hadley, Yolande -Jane Neal’s niece, her bullying son (?), Peter Morrow, Yvette Nichol,
Jean-Guy Beauvoir
2. Fatal Grace – CC, Peter Morrow, JGB
3. Cruelest Month – Hazel Smith, Michel Brebeuf, Peter Morrow, R. Lemieux, seemingly -Y. Nichol, JGB,
Arnot and Francouer
4. Rule Against Murder – Sandra Morrow, Thomas Morrow, Irene Finney, Peter Morrow, Pierre Patenaude,
One can understand the self-absorption of a tweener, teen and even some twentiers, but most of us do manage to grow out of this stage as we face and deal with our own lives. We begin to understand that the universe does not revolve around us and that we’re very, very, very minor players in it. No, I have not lived a sheltered life. It’s officially on record in the Library of Congress oral history project somewhere – my mother’s voice clearly stating that she didn’t want me when I was born, wanted to give me back (not sure to whom), but she was not prepared then for motherhood at all. Evidently something changed for her after that because she managed to produce 12 more offspring. To this day, she like Irene Finney, is not a physically affectionate person and seems incapable of saying ‘I love you.” – but – that’s her nature. She can’t or won’t change and has done the best with what she had/has. That was her life and her choices and I and each of my sibs have made our own. We haven’t wallowed in pity parties because we didn’t have a Donna Reed or June Cleaver for a mom. We’ve accepted her for who and what she is and tried to live our own full and rich lives. I have very little if any patience with someone who doesn’t even try to make the attempt to take responsibility for one’s own actions, words etc.
I’m finding that I have less patience and interest in these self-absorbed folks and want to read/ hear more about the Gamache family, Ruth, Clara, Myrna and Gabri & Ollie than people who don’t really care about others. Yes, I understand that this is fiction and “the bad guys/gals” and conflict are necessary parts of a mystery story plot. It just seems to me that we’ve been inundated with one kind/type of ‘villain.’
Meg, there is a lot to what you say – especially about the whine of people that life owes them something more. However, I find that all people have some of that in them – that there are times when we can all feel that way, and it’s how we act, that sets us free from some of the patterns that we’ve seen in the books.
However, I think what Louise Penny is getting at with each of the books, is that murder always starts in the same way. Yes, her murderers are all alike – because, in her mind, they are all alike. The seeds for murder are sown long before the act – in some slight or hurt that seems very small at the time. But allowed to fester, it becomes very large and finally, takes over the life of the person (host?) and kills. Since her theory is that this is where all murder comes from, there is bound to be the same kind of murderer in every story.
To me, most murderers ARE alike. It’s usually the execution of the plan that varies. (Pardon the pun.)
There is truth to what you’ve said, Julie, but that “seed which festers and grows” can be many things other than parental or a CYA action to mask the initial murder. Hazel’s motive was the only non-familial one that we’ve been offered – Oh, yes, and then there’s the extermination of the Cree people. We haven’t been given Arnot’s reasons for those atrocities.
That’s very true, Meg – they DO all seem to be filial, when in life of course, the seeds can come from many sources. As for the Arnot case, that one is going to be, for me, inexplicable. Much as I can’t forgive Peter, but can understand him – I cannot begin to even understand Arnot and the idea that there are still many people on the Surete force who are Arnot sympathizers.
It is interesting to see how so many of the murderers are caught in their own hell of “poor me”, when many have so little to pity themselves for. Ben Hadley appears to have had a loving mother who was thoughtful and kind to others. Where was his slight that made him live in the hell he created for himself? The denoument of Still Life led us to believe that he lied about injustices perpetrated upon him from quite a young age.
It was easier to understand how Crie got to where she was. Her mother sought to create a heaven so that she would be revered and adored, but missed all that was important, fulfilling, healthy and sane in her relationships in order to focus on “Li Bien”, which was the height of superficial and meaningless, sick and twisted. She created a hell for her family.
Hazel found her heaven in “helping” others. It created all of her self worth. When there was no need to help, she fell into her hell of becoming invisible.
Other characters act as foils as they clearly choose heaven: Clara, Myrna, Jane and Gabri. Still others show the duality within their own characters: Ruth (who is in her own hell much of the time, but comes out of it to choose to help others), Peter (who wants to have his wife’s faith, but just can’t manage it, especially after her success makes him jealous and insecure), Jean-Guy, even Nickel.
It is the duality that makes the characters rich and interesting and keeps me coming back to see what the characters choose and how the story will evolve.
Meg R., I’ve wanted to say to you,”No, Pierre was different. He loved his father so. He didn’t kill Julia for himself.” But, of course, he did. He not only killed Julia, he could so easily have caused Bean’s death. Penny said it so well, “And everyone in the comfortable, warm room glimpsed Pierre Paternaude’s small world, where wretched actions could be justified, and others blamed.” I think that we need to use constant vigilance, because we may not kill someone, but we might be tempted to use the Morrows’ methods of letting our darkness and hurt out. Instead, we can say, ” Yep, there’s my fury again,” and go on with our lives, letting go of our own lurking darkness yet again, or we can give in to it and allow it to invade or even take over our lives. While we can break these murderers down and recognize their great similarities, seeing each of them dressed up as something else can help us notice our own attempts to fool ourselves into justifying wretched behavior. I think you are feeling tired of these murderers because you’re seeing the pattern necessary to allow one to murder. In fact, this discussion seems to be helping me understand better the references in the books to Gamache being willing to go into the darkest recesses of his own mind and make friends with what is there, a powerful idea.
You know what, Cathryne? You are absolutely right. Pierre was different in re to motivation/murders. You made that little “Aha!” bell tinkle for me.
I think my dissatisfaction with this novel in particular (other than the string of pampered, self-absorbed, snarky, entitled ,and immature Morrows and – I forgot that young waiter Elliot too) was that I had a very difficult time accepting Pierre as a murderer. He never displayed those characteristics. Other than being oblivious to Veronique’s attraction to him, he seemed to be a genuine professional server: courteous and anticipating the needs of his clients; happy to be the teacher/trainer for the young seasonal workers who came each year; uncomfortable about having to be the disciplinarian or”boss” when employee misbehavior warranted. He was the one who insisted on Elliot treating all guests (including the obnoxious Morrows) respectfully and professionally. He comes across as basically a good and kind man who has thrived at the manoir for decades.
It just seemed, to me, to be a real stretch to believe that he planned (premeditated) Julia’s death even before the Morrows arrive there – and that he would hold her responsible for the dirty financial dealings of her husband who is currently serving a long prison term for those acts. How is it an act of revenge to murder the kindest of the Morrow sibs who had nothing to do with what happened with/to his father. Ditto with that scene on the roof top with Bean and Armand. Totally out of character. What did fit his personality as he had been revealed to us was the fact that he actually did rescue Gamache and Bean on that roof.
Yes, personal preferences. I just did not find this novel as satisfying as a reader as I did the first ones. For me, merits of this book were 1) reveal of more of the Gamache family – in re to naming new baby, father & son relationships (Armand & his father –and Armand with his son) 2) Finney’s reveal about Honore’s actual past and adding info that Armand didn’t have 3) short revisits to Three Pines and 4) Clara finally ‘pushing back’. Oh, yes, and little Bean! (By the way, one of my friend’s daughter’s nickname is “Been/Bean/Bein'” Never sure of how that was to be spelled. But at some point as a toddler, she asked an older sibling if she was a ‘hoomen bein” too. The “Bean” stuck as a reassurance!
Realize that I have developed expectations of our author based on first reading of the series and the ones we’ve reread so far. For me, this novel left me unsatisfied – because of rehash of self-absorbed characters and a final ‘who-done-it’ – and ‘why’ — which didn’t ring true for this reader. Am looking forward to Book 5 with hope of finding the engaging gifts that the first three offered readers.
Guess, I’m the sole contrarian thus far. Sorry if that offends anyone, but if we are offering genuine reader responses in this forum, I just felt the first three books were more engaging.
Meg – I can certainly see why you’d be dissatisfied with this book. It also doesn’t really work as a whodunnit, as there was no way we could have solved the crime, given the information we had. Though, I don’t think Louise Penny is writing whodunnits, so that doesn’t really bother me. I think that I was so pleased to have more information about Peter and his upbringing, that the rest of it didn’t matter to me. I also loved the new information about Gamache – seeing him and Reine-Marie at play, and Armand as a “civilian”. The descriptions were so rich – I felt like I was on vacation in this wonderful Manoir myself.
As I read your post, I was struck by the fact that poor Julia was not murdered because she was a Morrow or because of any of that horrible stuff that the family wrought – a fact which was completely by-passed by me before this. In the end, this was actually one of my favorite books, but not because of the murder story, but because of the rest.
The delicate writing required to show how a family can taint and poison a child for life, without anyone really being aware of it (the child, or the parents), is an extremely difficult task. While the family nastiness was exaggerated here, there were moments that rang so true for me…
I think I admire Guamache so much because he does journey into his inner most darkness. That takes tremendous courage. Most people are too afraid to face their inner demons.
I enjoyed how you singled out all the parallels in the first four Gamache books, Meg R. One tiny point and then a niggling question. In Still Life, Timmer Hadley was murdered with an overdose of morphine which, while suppressing her breathing, is not the same as smothering. Ruth said that Timmer was alert enough to know that the annual parade was about to begin and urged Ruth to go. I think that there would have been signs of a struggle (BIG spoiler alert!) had Ben smothered his mother. Now my big query from A Rule Against Murder. How was Julia lured to the exact spot in front of the statue, close enough to crush her? She would then have paused at that exact spot, thrown open her arms, and then been crushed. How did her murderer plan on being there when Julia happened to pause, arms open, at the exact spot where she would be crushed? This is just niggling and wiggling in the back of my mind! I can’t figure out how this delicate chain of events, with only one chance (you don’t get to topple a huge statue a second time), succeeded.
An aspect that intrigued me was how Armand felt about his father, and the taunts of Irene about him, but how Bert gave him a new perspective when he told him about his father realizing that he’d been wrong and had the courage to change his mind about the war and also to apologize for trying to lead the Quebec people from joining in the fight against Hitler. It made Armand appreciate his father, Honore, in a brand new way that led him to feel comfortable in the end with his own son, Daniel, giving his newborn the name Honore if the child was a boy. I liked it that Bert told Armand that, in his eyes, Honore Gamache was a hero, not a coward. It was lovely to understand a bit about Armand’s background.
1. We are introduced to the Morrow family. What member are you most drawn to?
Julia. She has tried her whole life to put others at ease by kindness. Losing her father suddenly at age 20 or 21 through no fault of her own had to be traumatic. The only evidence we have of her ever being mean was that one phrase thrown out during the game about Peter’s pimple which set in motion everything. Was she being mean intentionally? In a fast paced game like that given the obvious visual clue I think not. It just “popped” out like Peter’s perpetually purple pimple. She is not implicated in any way with her husband’s criminal financial scandal and yet has paid a heavy price. She is haunted by loss and the need for love and came back to her family because they were all she had left.
2. Who are some of the less obvious characters in A Rule Against Murder?
Elliot the waiter about whom we see so many conflicting opinions. Charming, flirty, lazy, argumentative, a ring leader and maybe a leader. What his real motives are in engaging Julia Martin in conversation and being drawn to her are painted in many different lights.
3. Louise Penny’s books are filled with rich sensory experiences—sight, sound, taste, smell, touch. With A Rule Against Murder, we get the summertime sensory experiences, in addition to simple everyday ones. What are your favorite sensory passages or sentences in A Rule Against Murder?
“The garden smelled of fresh turned earth and roses. Every now and then she caught a slight scent of herbs wafting from the kitchen garden. But the scent she longed for, and caught as she leaned into her husband, was sandalwood. It was more than his cologne, he seemed to exude it. It was how every season smelled. It was how love and stability and belonging smelled. It was the perfume of friendship and ease and peace.”
4. Louise Penny plays with duality, and in A Rule Against Murder we see the juxtaposition of the unnatural within the natural. How is this illustrated? What are some other themes that you see?
Heaven and Hell. The choices made by each character in the same physical location at the same point in time to see Heaven or Hell. To perceive their circumstances so differently.
5. Do you agree with Madame Dubois’ opinion about family? (See above under “Favorite Quotes”.) Can there sometimes be a choice to like your family?
Yes I agree with Madame Dubois. I think you can choose to LOVE your family though despite not “liking” their actions, words, etc. … And I think that applies universally.
6. What are your favorite humorous moments from A Rule Against Murder?
At the clogging competition: Gamache says to Ruth:
“Do you have a lee-sense for zat minky?” He pointed to the duck waddling behind the elderly poet. Ruth glared at him, but a tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her. “Come on along, Rosa,” she said to the quacking duck. “He drinks, you know.”
#4. K.E., I’m glad that you mentioned the theme of the duality of heaven and hell and our choice as to whether we believe we are in heaven or hell at any given time. “The mind is its own place.” p. 95. Such a powerful idea and one that will be developed further in Part 2 of this book.
I love Bert Finney, Bean. Other than the Morrows…Chef Veronique and Clementine Dubois.
One of the things I find intriguing and unsettling in all of the Gamache books – is how I can see myself in the characters I like the least…Peter, Mrs. Finney, Sandra Morrow. I come face to face with the parts of myself that I like the least. I like that though, because they remind me of where I do not want to end up.
Peter reminds me how easy it is to be eaten up by jealousy and envy. Mrs. Finney reminds me how easy it is to isolate by being judge and jury of the rest of the world…and how reprehensible it is to purposely push people’s buttons to control them. Sandra Morrow reminds me what a horrible thing it is to constantly put oneself in the one down position; lesser than everyone around you because you believe you always get second best.
I believe we can cause ourselves an enormous amount of emotional pain depending on what we believe about ourselves and the world around us. Whenever I start feeling down these days, I say to myself, “The mind is its own place. It can make a heaven of hell or a hell of heaven.” I think that’s the quote.
I love and understand many of the least pleasant characters. They encourage me to be kinder to myself and a better human being. Each book talks about Gamache being willing to go to the darkest place inside his own head and make friends with what he finds there. I am finding it easier and easier to make friends with and admit to what is in the darkest parts of my mind.
If you’re up for it, these books provide a great resource for self-therapy!
I am skipping over to some of the Reading Group Guide questions. Here’s the first one:
Louise Penny has said that she initially set out to write A Rule Against Murder as a classic mystery, a tribute to Golden Age writers such as Christie and Tey and Sayers, masters of the hermetic environment. She wanted to take that form and bring it into the 21st century. As the story unfolds, in what ways does it follow—or diverge from—the conventions of traditional crime fiction?
I just love this question. Mystery novel aficianado that I am, I recognize that Christie, especially, liked to set her novels in a “hermetic environment”–that is, either at a manor house or a hotel where there were only a set number of people present when a murder occurred, and it was apparent the murderer had to be one of those present. Think of And Then There Were None, The Mousetrap, or even Halloween Party, where Hercule Poirot is present and a young girl is supposedly accidentally drowned, and you’ll see what I mean. I imagine a lot of you have your own favorite Christie or Sayers books that you could compare to Penny’s book.(Sorry, I can’t remember details about Tey’s books enough to discuss here. I will leave that to someone else). Gaudy Night, where Lord Peter Wimsey is aiding Harriet Vane in her endeavor to find the authoress of poisoned pen letters, is also an example of a situation where it’s basically a hermetic environment. (The perpetrator clearly has to be either a student or a faculty member). Agatha Christie was also famous for her “locked room” mysteries, which required a lot of brain work on the part of the reader to figure out HOW the murder could have happened(the murder itself was not in question). That last makes me think a lot of the situation Gamache finds himself in at Bellechasse. It’s clear that Julia Morrow seems to have been lured to the garden area where the sculpture of her father was located, but the HOW of the sculpture being moved to kill her is the big puzzler. Again, we see Penny’s homage to Christie in placing her mystery in a hermetic environment. That is, there are not really any viable suspects aside from the staff and the guests at the manoir. ( Hard to see how any passing “serial killer” could have managed to move the statue of Mr. Morrow by him(0r her) self). There’s another book where Dorothy L. Sayers makes the focus of Lord Peter’s inquiries the HOW rather than “Who dunnit”, and that is in Busman’s Honeymoon. In that case, Lord Peter and Harriet are on their honeymoon, at Tallboys the home that Harriet had loved from childhood, and the morning after they arrive, Bunter discovers the reason why the previous owner hadn’t been there to give them the key–he’s dead, in the wine cellar. Again, the crime is pretty much hermetically sealed– only someone acquainted with the previous owner, who lives in the immediate vicinity, is a viable suspect. The real puzzle, though, is again, HOW the murder was done. Once that is solved, the who will be solved also. It’s the same thing in A Rule Against Murder. Once Gamache can figure out HOW the murder was committed, he will then be on the right track to decide WHO did the murder.
You must enjoy mysteries as much as I do. I took a Continuing Education class “The Golden Age of Mysteries” at a nearby college a few years ago. All of us Senior Citizens enjoyed sharing our favorite authors and stories and hearing about the favorites of others.
Ah, the “Golden Age” of mysteries. One of my favorite periods and authors. I’d be interested, Barbara, in knowing which authors the instructor of that class included for your studies . At a guess, I’d say Agatha Christie, A. Conan Doyle, Dorothy L. Sayers for the British authors, and Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler for the Americans. But in particular, Christie is the one many other mystery writers try to emulate, for her plotting devices such as the “locked room” mysteries and the aforementioned “hermetic environment”. That hermetic environment did make things less complicated for her detectives like Hercule Poirot and Miss Jane Marple. I would add, that since Louise Penny has set the murder scene outside in this book, that she is both paying homage to Christie(and Sayers, too as I’ve discussed in my previous post) but tweaking it a bit also, simply by placing the murder outdoors and not inside. Christie is not known, however, for much development in her characters, and I’d have to say Penny has her beat there.
The golden age of detective fiction, how Iremember first being introduced to Dorothy L Dayers and Agatha Christie. As you say, their characters whilst interesting, were not developed as fully and extensively as Luoise Penny ‘s. As you progress through the Gamache series, more layers are revealed and private lives ‘exposed’.
You are absolutely correct. The main authors were Christie, Sayers and Doyle. We Did not study any American Authors. I still enjoy these three.An American Radio series during WWII was based on the new telling of the Adventures of Holmes and Watson by Dr. Watson. Hollywood also produced films of Holmes and Watson preventing Nazi sabatoge during WWII. Inspiration from Christie and Sayers are still seen in some writered today. Read an article today on the Golden Age “Cozy.” Mention was made of the ideal English Village where the murder rate is very high but does not seem to detract from the desirability of living there. The House Party setting was the other favorite device. These included the idea of a landed gentry still clinging to way of life that had been forever altered by WWI. I have read many of these types of books and enjoyed a trip to a place and time long gone. Gone except for the Village of Three Pines in Quebec, Canada.
I didn’t think I could enjoy these books any more than I did on first reading. Sharing this rereading with all of you has been so much more than I expected. I am amazed at the unique way each individual views the characters. There are so many threads, hues, colors and textures woven into even the simplest story lines. What a priviliege to share with others who recognize what a superb writer Louise Penny is. I anxiously await each new publication of four or five authors. Although I enjoy their novels, I consider Penny to be the most talented. Her books are truly Treasures.
Question 4. The stuffed, mounted animal heads in the attic of the manoir are an example of the unnatural within the natural, I think. The very natural child, Bean, is terrified when she finds them. Gamache is certainly startled when he sees all the eyes staring at him when he runs to the attic in response to Bean’s scream. Then the comparison of the animal heads to the stiff, staring heads of the Morrows is very effective. They are another unnatural element among the natural, as Julie noted.
I notice that I wrote “she” for Bean. I do think of Bean as a girl!
Oooh – that’s an excellent point, Cathryne – I forgot about those heads (as soon as I could!) I think Bean is a girl, too. Because she’s so smart! 😉
Actually, I think of Bean as a boy. My blond fine-featured grandson fits the description perfectly, and he is often mistaken for a girl. And, now, now, smart is not gender specific.
Cathryne, Julie, and Linda, I also find it difficult to think of Bean as just a “neuter”–that is, neither male nor female. Since Penny does not reveal Bean’s gender at the end of the book, I think perhaps she is sending a message about how we pile on expectations to a person, simply because that person is male or female. Anyway, I have had the thought that Bean is not such a handicap for a name as I first thought. If one drops the “a” out of the name, it becomes “Ben,” and if one drops the “n”, it becomes “Bea.” So whenever Bean hits puberty and decides which gender to identify with , he/she can modify the name so it reflects that choice.
I was surprised to realize when I first read
Bean has always been a boy to me. I hope Penny lets us know at some point as Bean matures. Children are more fortunate now than when I was growing up. I cried bitterly for an electric train like my cousin, Herbert, had. I think that I secretly resented that I could not have one because girls did not play with trains. I think my Daddy would have enjoyed playing trains with me as much as he and my uncle enjoyed playing with my cousin.
Peter and Clara are good friends of the Gamaches. Clara loves Peter. These facts have impelled me to give Peter the benefit of the doubt. We have seen many of his failings. I suspect he also has virtues and strengths. Clearly, his story is not over yet. I remain cautiously optimistic about his character.
I refuse to give up on Peter too.
There might be hope for Peter, but I think perhaps not for the marriage.
Good point.
What an amazing coincidence — I began reading A Rule Against Murder just last night. The storm is approaching, so I curtailed reading these comments (having found this posting in my Facebook page during a break from cleaning a closet) in order not to spoil tonght’s reading. I am intrigued by Louise Penny’s masterful, lyrical use of language and her characters, and have read several of her novels.
Welcome, Liz – we are actually reading all the Gamache novels in order while waiting for the latest one to be released! C’mon along! We’re having so much fun!
I need help. I really don’t know the meaning of question #4. I grasp the meaning of the words but do not know how to answer. “Juxtaposition of the unnatural in the natural? How is this illustrated?” Maybe I’m overthinking it or I may just be clueless in Georgia.
I’m with you a bit, Barbara – other than that this is a very natural setting, and murder is un-natural, it’s difficult to come up with much more. There’s the huge marble cube (and later, the statue for a little while, at least) set just beside the woods – so I guess that’s another example. Hmmmmm – thinking here – I think we can assume that by the “natural” – we mean the setting – the Manoir itself is a natural place/thing, even though it WAS made by humans. It’s been there, and set there with so much reverence for the natural that I think it has become natural.
The Morrow clan are most unnatural in so many ways. Then there’s the way they speak of “Spot and Claire” before they arrive. When they show up, Armand and Reine-Marie are astounded to see that they are not the worst of a bad group, but their very good friends. So, perhaps, we begin to see that the Morrows see the world in an unnatural way. It’s all backwards – the nasty is normal and natural, and the kind are to be sneered at.
That’s as far as I can get here – my brain hurts now. hahahaha.
Thanks. I think I see the idea in your examples. The Morrows and their view of life certainly is not natural.
To be honest, I wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about reading this book again, as it had been my least favorite first time round. And I think that is because Peter has always made me feel uncomfortable and this book was full of his family. But I loved reading it again and experiencing a taste of Gamache on holiday. The heat and tension were palpable and I could almost feel the grass under my feet. I think Bert Finney was my favourite, which surprised me and I feel justified in continuing to dislike pathetic Peter. Oh how I love these books!
This was another one of my favorite passages – I suppose it could answer both Question 2 and Question 3:
“The storm moved on, to terrorize other creatures deeper in the forest. And the Gamaches returned to bed, throwing open their windows for the cool breeze the storm had left as an apology.”
Thank you to all of those eagle eyed readers who are making me look again. I have read this book more than once and missed many of the points raised in this discussion.
I think my favourite member of the Morrow family is Bert Finney, who is and isn’t a Morrow. I love the ‘ugliness’; of his looks with the consideration and love that he shows to others. Hadn’t picked up on the possible Bert/Marianna connection, but it does fit well.
Oh definitely Chef Veroniquie for my favourite and most complex secondary character. Though in every book I am drawn to Isabelle Lacoste, who returns to the murder sites to reassure the victims they will do their best to find the killers.
So funny – other than her “communing with the dead” and promising them that they will find the killer, I find Isabelle almost a blank character. She’s often described as “Like most Quebecois women, stylish” and nothing much else. Maybe it’s my perspective – in that I have met all the other characters before (in real life), and she is more of a mystery to me. It’s so interesting to me that she is someone who has garnered your interest.
I agree that she is a relatively bland/blank character [so far in the series], however I really like that she expresses the responsibility no doubt felt by all investigators, to find a murderer.
I think mayb she is an extension of Gamache’s attitude and is verbalising what his attitude to murder investigations is.
But I think that speaks volumes about her character. She has respect for the dead (as does her mentor, Gamache). And she makes it a point to act on that.
Exactly. Thank you for putting my ramblings into a short pithy sentence.
I listen to audio books rather than read books so it is easy to listen to books over and over, and Louise Penny is wonderful in her ability to add dimensions to her characters that each re-listening brings to the awareness. I liked all of the Morrow family despite their flaws and pretenses. Mostly what I feel is a sense of sadness for this poor family that has never learned to share feelings and for the parents who were never able to reassure their children that they were truly loved and valued. It is so typical that Charles’s business associate knew more of how Charles felt about his children than they themselves knew. I feel so sad for Mrs. Morrow who grew up in an era that taught not revealing a weakness and being thought cold was better than admitting to that problem. I loved the story but it is heart wrenching with Thomas wearing his father’s shirt until the cuffs are frayed. his wife being so demanding yet sticking cookies to the ceiling with Bean, Julia wanting to come home to the loving embrace of her family after her ordeal with her husband and forgetting just how nonsupporting her family was. Peter is the least sympathetic character in the book and yet I feel pity for him too. Bean will turn out just fine and so will Marianna as soon as they get back to their own home.
My favorite part was Gamache spending the night trying to express his feelings for his wife in a note and finally, when finished’ Reine Marie found the note “I love you”.
The heat and humidity of summer and the bugs were all too realistic!
I had a second thought about the story being set in the hot, buggy summer. Heat smothers me. This is a tale of a smothering family. It HAD to take place in the summer.
That’s true! I hadn’t thought of that, but it’s so true! I HATE the heat (why I live in Seattle, hahaha) and the descriptions of the heat added to the discomfort I felt when I read this. I loved that, while Armand and Reine-Marie were uncomfortable, they didn’t let it ruin their vacation – they knew how to relax and how to cool off. Their morning swim was so refreshing for us all, I think!
Of all of the books in the series, this was one of the most troubling. Bean is thrust into a family dynamic that is, on the surface, average until you begin to study them. It appears that outsiders are the ones that give Bean the love and attention that is needed, because the family is so bent on hurting one another.
Julia seems to be the only one who has escaped only to be the victim again.
I found the Morrow clan, just that a clan, of self-absorbed arrogant fools. It makes understanding Peter so much easier. He was warped by his cruel upbringing and now we see how he treats Clara. This is the first book in which Clara begins to stand up to Peter.
I loved the staff as they were the normal individuals in this tale. It made reading more enjoyable knowing that the Morrows were not totally infecting the space in anger and hatred.
I did laugh when the Morrow clan described the rooms for Armand and Reine-Marie as a closet. It was also enlightening to see Armand at play, away from the cares of the world, if only for a day.
The descriptions of the area around the Manoir reminds me of a favorite place in the Algonquin where my family went on holidays. It was a refreshing journey to an area of Ontario that I love. And I also agree, there needs to be a Three Pines cookbook, from all of Ms Penny’s books.
I am French-Québecoise living in *Les Cantons de l’Est* ( The Eastern Townships), the same area as Louise Penny. Having so much enjoyed all of her books, I am thrilled to share these group discussions. I have often wondered how many of you are Québecois, Canadian or American.
In this book (mine is titled The Murder Stone) I have difficulty grasping the essence of Bean. You all seem to understand more than I do. Help please.
P.S. It is coureur DES bois, not coureur DU bois. – important in this neck of the woods.
P.P.S. Pudding chomeur (chomeur meaning unemployed) was the dessert our grandmothers would make during the depression as it required very few ingredients, was sweet and children relished it. At that time, it did not include maple syrup as that was not for the poor.
Hello, Mariette – how wonderful to have a Québecois expert among our midst! I was born and raised in Canada, though I now live in Seattle and am a naturalized US citizen. That pudding makes my mouth water – though I’m sure it’s mostly the idea of real maple syrup that does it, which, as you say, wasn’t really a part of the dessert when it came about. I’m sure Chantilly cream was also not a possibility! 😀
Bean is a kind of anomaly to me, too. She is named something very odd, yet doesn’t seem to mind (at least not yet). What is more disturbing to me is that her mother has never told anyone (including Bean, one imagines) what sex he or she is. I’m sure Bean has figured it out by now, as he or she is very bright, and must be in school. But how this child can seem so normal is beyond me. Bean is bright, seems happy, loves to play, and hangs on to the mythology book like a talisman. There are only two odd things about him or her, really – Bean can’t jump (doesn’t seem to want to leave the ground) and has many, many clocks in the room when he or she goes to sleep at night. Perhaps afraid he or she might not wake up if there isn’t an alarm going off?
I love the episode with the cookies on the ceiling – first, because it’s so child-like and normal, second because who can throw something straight up and not have it turn in mid-air, with enough force to stick on the ceiling – it couldn’t happen, yet it does, magically! And third, because when Sandra comes upon her, instead of scolding (or even worrying that there won’t be any cookies left for her), she joins in. Bean is able, somehow, to bring out the child in Sandra, and we can see that she can be pleasant, given the right company.
Hello, Mariette. I’m so glad you joined us–you can give us more of a Canadian reader’s perspective. I must say, I’m from the US, but that does not mean that I understand “the essence of Bean” any more than you do. She is clearly an anomaly in several ways–first the unusual name, second the fact that none of her relatives know what gender she is, and third, that in spite of being the offspring of a woman from a clearly dysfunctional family, she appears to be a normal, active, mostly happy child. Even though I cringe at the thought of her mother giving her a dubious name like Bean, and not making it clear what the gender is(I suspect female, as most male children are inordinately proud of that fact!), apparently Bean’s mother gives her child enough love that the other things do not bother the child that much.
As for the Morrow/Finney adults–what a horrible family. Unlike one of the other readers, I can feel little pity for Mrs. Finney. Her oldest son is now in his 60’s–a bit long in the tooth to be looking for acceptance from his ‘Mummy” and to be sniping at his siblings. I think, sadly, the main thing that keeps the Morrow offspring coming to these awful reunions is the thought that perhaps the mother will at last name one of them her favorite, and thus give the majority of the financial inheritance to that person. I believe Julia came to help the others break free, as she had, but I have no idea why Peter comes, since he claims he never accepted money from his father and won’t take any from his mother. Then why on earth does he come and put himself and Clara through this Hellish experience??? That’s what has ME baffled.
Karen, I think I know why Peter comes. I think you really have to come from one of these kinds of families to understand the hold they have over us – it is the ultimate love/hate relationship, and no matter how old you get to be, you still want your parents’ love and approval. Even when they don’t deserve your love, you still love them. And when they say come, you come.
Rosa saw Ruth the instant she broke through her shell, and became imprinted on her. After that, Ruth was her “mother” and she followed her everywhere. Imagine now, 20 years of “this is your mother” feelings. Another 40 isn’t half enough to allow you to break free. Or rather, if you do – you must be conscious of it, and try hard. Even then, it’s difficult to let go of the old hope that “maybe this time”…..
Julie, I agree. The hope that “things will be better next time.” I hoped that with my husband’s family for so long. Finally, I was forced to face the truth. Their failure to love me or to even afford me common courtesy was not my responsibility and in no way dimished my value or self-worth. It is much harder to do with one’s own family, I know.
It is – but we are used to it from our own family. Sometimes, it seems to hurt more coming from the family of the one person you love the most in the world! Like a little voice saying “he’s wrong about you – we see through the veneer” – it can be devastating! I’m glad you saw that it was them and not you! 😀
Peter comes to the reunions because he wants recognition from his family that he is a self-made man. He is above them because he isn’t grasping for the money. He isn’t needy. But, of course, he is exceedingly needy.
KB and Julie, I think you have revealed his reasons for coming to the reunions with great insight. And, I think this book explains the passive-aggressive behavior we keep seeing from him.
It’s really all he knows. Remember – this is a person who has only had one real friend in his life – he’s not good with people. He’s not even good with things – his art requires that he breaks down an object to it’s parts, rather than enjoy the whole.
Jane – I see that you’re using the pronoun /she/ for Bean. Does that mean you’ve determined Bean’s gender?
No, not really, Marie. I should have put he/she there. Just a slip-up on my part!
(Sometimes I think, “Bean has GOT to be a girl!” and then other times, I think, “Nope, Bean is a boy!”) Penny doesn’t give sufficient clues for me to determine Bean’s true gender.
Hi, Marriette. Glad you joined us. It’s great to have a Quebecoise onboard. Sorry, I can’t find the correct accent key. I have also wondered where others live. I am American and live in Georgia. South Carolina is only moments away across the Savannah River. I may have to “pick your brain” (ask questions) about some of the stories.
Mariette! How wonderful to have you and your insights especially as I’m a US citizen! Thanks!
Bienvenue, Mariette! It will be nice to have your perspective. I am from Minneapolis, Minnesota.
I am re-reading the version called “The Murder Stone” in Ontario, close to the border with Michigan.
I too am reading “The Murder Stone” – in Tecumseh, Ontario, just across the Michigan border from Detroit.
I love everyone’s insights into the personalities and am amazed at how many of us seem to have strange families or in laws. My husband cannot escape his even though we have come over 3000 miles to do so!
Mariette – my fathers family is from St Gervais. I am American but spent many summers in Quebec. I am looking for some traditional comfort desserts for him. Any suggestions welcome. Thank you.