1925 Murder-mystery, where comedy prevails 

I Only Read Murder
by Ian Ferguson and Will Ferguson

Toronto: HarperCollins Canada, 2023
$24.99 / 9781443470766

Reviewed by Jessica Poon

*

I Only Read Murder is a zippy whodunit by Victoria’s Ian Ferguson and Calgary’s Will Ferguson with plentiful red herrings, comedic zingers, and miscommunication. If you’re looking for fun escapism with a satirical wit, this novel more than amply fits the bill.

The protagonist, Miranda Abbott, is a formerly successful actress best known for her role as Pastor Fran, a beautiful detective who just so happens to be a pastor. Now, Miranda’s once luminous prospects in Hollywood have downgraded to being offered a Metamucil commercial—as the grandmother. In Miranda’s words: “I was on lunch boxes and iron-on T-shirts … And now you want me to have me advising young girls to eat more fiber so they can shit better?” Worse still, Miranda is rejected for even the horrifying nadir of The Real Has-Beens of Beverly Hills, because she is insufficiently narcissistic.

In the beginning of the novel, Miranda rashly fires her agent and is in the process of having her belongings repossessed. Plus, Andrew, her long suffering, unpaid personal assistant quits. The only light in the proverbial tunnel is a postcard, unsigned, that simply says: “It’s been fifteen years, Miranda. I think it’s time.” Miranda assumes the sender of the postcard—her husband, Edgar—intends a romantic reconciliation. In fact, Edgar wants a divorce. One can’t help but wonder why an e-mail wouldn’t have sufficed, though Miranda herself is too sheltered from modern reality, and reality generally, to be attuned to the soul drudgery of e-mail. As a result of this vague postcard, Miranda finds herself in the suspiciously cheery Happy Rock, whose biggest annual showcase is their play, Death to the Dickens.

When an actress dies on stage, Miranda finds herself taking on the role of the late actress’s starring role. Naturally, she becomes determined to unravel the truth, in part to clear her own name. After all, by nabbing the lead—which ought to have been hers to begin with—constitutes adequate-ish reason for murder. Comedy, not rue, always prevails in I Want to Read Murder. Even the murder is treated as more of a curiosity-provoking inevitability than a tragedy, for the victim herself was unequivocally smug and therefore loathsome.

The supporting cast of characters is extensive, including but not limited to—

Edgar, who is mostly quiet, apparently looks good in corduroy, and notably, owns a bookstore specializing in murder mysteries. For the majority of the novel, Edgar and Miranda’s interactions seem to be consecutive instances of misinterpretation.

There’s Miranda’s personal assistant, Andrew Nguyen, i.e., adult baby-sitter, whose fealty to Miranda provisionally ends after an elongated period of not being paid. His ire over once having complimented Miranda’s dreadful homemade lemonade has the unintended effect of Miranda always making lemonade for him, and any other guest. Though Andrew does receive speaking lines, he mostly seems to be relegated to being referred to in third-person as Miranda’s “gay assistant,” which, though presumably intended as comedic effect becomes a stale running joke that never dies.

There’s Bea Maracle, the owner of a B&B that Miranda occupies with the entitlement of a guest at the Ritz-Carlton. Bea is a huge fan of Pastor Fran and permits Miranda to reside there for free.
Along with Ned Buckley, a police officer, they regularly watch episodes of Parrot P.I. and are initially ecstatic to have Miranda watch with them.

And there’s Susan Lladwraig, a punctilious woman who also happens to volunteer at Edgar’s bookstore and whose consonant-rich surname lends itself to some sitcom-ready quipping:

“ …  Miss Lladdwraig is a stickler, you see. A kind heart, but a real stickler.”

“Welsh,” said Ned, as though that explained everything. 

“And how do you spell her name?”

“Pretty much like how it sounds,” said Bea.

At one point, Miranda confides that her erstwhile career success is all because she wore the wrong bra one day:

“My entire career. Built on an error in wardrobe. I’d been cast to play a young pastor … and I figured, I’m playing a pastor in a loose tunic, how much support do I really need? I showed up wearing the wrong bra for it, didn’t realize they’d added a dramatic scene of me running across the tracks to save that teenager from the clutches of a marijuana gang. … Didn’t realize how … bouncy it would be when they aired it. In slow motion, no less. My character quickly developed a following … More running.  More jumping. Even put me on a trampoline at one point, I think. … A star was born. Ha! All because I was naïve and dumb and wore the wrong bra that day.”

Although this passage is one of many funny ones, it also encapsulates how arbitrary and ageist, success in Hollywood—or lack thereof—can be.

If you’re anything like me—decreasing in literacy by the pixel—then, you owe it to yourself to rediscover the joys of escapism on a tactile page. This novel, thankfully, is not long-winded, onanistic prose, but a novel that knows how to break the fourth wall, use sentence fragments, suspense, and humour, to engage. Don’t you want to know who killed the smarmy real estate agent? Does Miranda’s lemonade ever improve? What is true love between two completely opposite people? You will, upon reading, learn at least the answer to one of these three probing questions.

I Only Read Murder ends with neither a wedding nor a funeral, but, in true Hollywood fashion, a ludicrously inaccurate news article concerning Miranda’s love life. True, you cannot believe everything you read… unless perhaps, the very next clause: it’s a lot of fun, this book. 

*

Originally from East Vancouver, Jessica Poon is a writer, former line cook, and a pianist of dubious merit who resides in Toronto. She is currently a MFA candidate in Creative Writing at the University of Guelph. [Editor’s note: Jessica Poon has recently reviewed books by Christine Lai, Logan Macnair, Jen Sookfong Lee, J.M. Miro (Steven Price), Bri Beaudoin, Tetsuro Shigematsu, Katie Welch, Megan Gail Coles, and Ayesha Chaudhry.]

*

The British Columbia Review

Interim Editors, 2023-24: Trevor Marc Hughes (non-fiction), Brett Josef Grubisic (fiction)
Publisher: Richard Mackie

Formerly The Ormsby Review, The British Columbia Review is an on-line book review and journal service for BC writers and readers. The Advisory Board now consists of Jean Barman, Wade Davis, Robin Fisher, Barry Gough, Hugh Johnston, Kathy Mezei, Patricia Roy, Maria Tippett, and Graeme Wynn. Provincial Government Patron (since September 2018): Creative BC. Honorary Patron: Yosef Wosk. Scholarly Patron: SFU Graduate Liberal Studies. The British Columbia Review was founded in 2016 by Richard Mackie and Alan Twigg.

“Only connect.” – E.M. Forster