Reread Diaries: And Then There Were None Ch 1 - 4
Agatha Christie's mystery novel introduces us readers to the island and the shady characters that it attracted to its shores.
If you’re new to the Reread Diaries, you may want to start with the introduction to the project and the general syllabus here.
DISCLAIMER: These articles do contain spoilers as they assume you have read the novel and are returning to these chapters to reread—read at your own risk!
This week, we’re reading (or have read!) through the first few chapters of the ubiquitous Agatha Christie novel And Then There Were None. If you are just joining us on our reread journey, you may find it helpful to begin with the introductory post about this novel that provides some background on the history and context of its production.
I first read And Then There Were None as a high school freshman about eighteen years ago (yikes!) and I remember being absorbed by the mystery and tracking down the clues to solving it. It is a classic in the murder mystery genre—one by one characters are picked off while the others race to find the culprit. It was an exercise in critical thinking during that stage of my education, and it allowed me to learn to break down a narrative in a way that revealed how an author constructed it. Having written a (poorly constructed) novel the previous year as an eighth grader, I was beginning to look at literature as a burgeoning writer, and Agatha Christie was a perfect case study.
Since then, And Then There Were None has wormed its way into the zeitgeist of American cinema and pop culture, despite its age. I think of films like Blink Twice, The Menu, or Triangle of Sadness, which look at the lure of wealth, depravity, and consequence. I loosely think of anime like Psycho Pass (though it does have connections to other detective fiction or thrillers like “The Most Dangerous Game”). Even films like Knives Out takes at least some inspiration from the ubiquitous Hercule Poirot, one of Agatha Christie’s characters of another detective fiction series. And although some of these modern narratives may not take direct influence from Christie’s work, she is one of the most renowned authors of detective and mystery fiction. Her influence, therefore, cannot be so easily denied.
And Then There Were None is interesting because of its standalone nature. There is no singular detective attempting to solve the mystery, because multiple characters vie for power throughout its story even when Justice Wargrave heads the initial investigation. From the outset, each character is suggested to have a grave secret, and therefore there are no innocents. The novel itself is ambitious by default—how does one live up to the name of the novel? Why the epigraph included before Chapter 1, before we even know the characters, the setting, the conflict?
From the beginning, we already know there are no survivors. The novel tells us in not so many words. So, how does that impact our relationship to the characters and who we root for? I’m curious if anyone has thoughts.
Hiding Secrets in Plain Sight
The Cast
And Then There Were None opens with a journey: each character introduced in turn will undoubtedly find themselves entangled in a lethal web of lies and deceit as they physically approach the place of their reckoning. We know this already: the epigraph at the beginning of the novel serves as a wealth of foreshadowing of what’s to come, and even the title of the novel (though not the original) hints at the ultimate demise of each of its lead cast. As each character is described and their thoughts laid bare, the readers are led to question their motives already: what really drives them to the island? Desperation? Fear? Wealth? Curiosity?
I always found it interesting that the novel opens with descriptions—and background information—of its collection of characters. We know very little about them beyond their physical traits or occupations with hints of why they’re coming to “Soldier Island”, which serves as a backdrop for the remainder of the novel. Why include such contradictory reasoning for their being on the island? What lures them there? For some, it’s a job they’ve been called to perform. Others, it’s the request of an acquaintance. And still others, the lure of the island, the mysterious owner (who is speculated still in the first few chapters), and the proximity to wealth or fame is what draws them. In many ways, I think this cast of characters in their related desire to be on the island, indicates a natural and integral part of being human: curiosity. Many of these characters are typecast to play a specific role, as well—the general, the lover, the old crone, the judge, etc. We’ll dive into a few of those next week.
But, regardless of why they choose to respond to the call, all were invited to the island by a rather peculiar entity introduced by proxy: U.N. Owen.
We don’t know much about him at the outset: we know he’s wealthy. We know he’s familiar with each of the others’ backgrounds and has the means to research them, otherwise the invitation letters wouldn’t be so convincing. He is a puppet master pulling the strings, but we know nothing of his physical traits or his background. He could be anyone—or even not exist at all, as Justice Wargrave argues when he realizes the name carries a stark resemblance to the word “unknown”.
Christie does this purposefully. Owen’s connection to the island and the setting itself are both shrouded in mystery. It builds suspend and speculation. It creates a dark backdrop for what will ultimately be a horrific massacre. I’d argue that this is where Christie straddles the line between the thriller and horror genres, though she doesn’t go so far to describe the island in entirely macabre terms.
The Island
Known in the newest editions of the novel as “Soldier Island”, the name has transformed from earlier versions. As I mentioned in the introductory post for And Then There Were None, the original name and rhyme in the epigraph at the beginning of the novel has much more sinister origins and racist roots. In fact, the title of the novel was changed for its American audience. I find it interesting that it’s morphed into Soldier Island rather than anything else, and I wonder too if that change is made based on some of the characters’ backstories and their relation to politics or law enforcement of some kind. But for now, all we need to know is that I would argue the island of And Then There Were None is in and of itself a character.
When I read this as a freshman in high school, we began by reading Richard Connell’s short story “The Most Dangerous Game”, which I may get into in another essay. The island in that work also has a mind of its own, despite the main character(s) attempting to control it for sport. I’m reminded, too, of settings that devolve over the course of a narrative, like that in William Golding’s Lord of the Flies. Nature is not something to be trifled with in these stories—and in some cases she becomes the arbiter under the deadly circumstances such as what we see in And Then There Were None.
Readers are introduced to the island during the daytime, when hopes and spirits are high among the guests. They remark on the peculiarity of their invitations and the variety of personalities and backgrounds of those they find themselves amongst. The house, too, holds some secrets. As each guest settles in, the find themselves ruminating on the details. Vera mentions in the beginning that the house itself isn’t visible, and only a rock with “a faint resemblance to a giant head” stands out, which she describes in Chapter Two as sinister or foreboding. In addition to being under the watchful gaze of the island, we also learn through Vera that the island can often be cut off from the mainland by squalls, already preparing readers for the isolation and cover required of the impending murders. It is a beast of its own making.
In these first few chapters, much about our characters is left out in favor of establishing the setting and circumstances under which those murders take place. The island’s landscape, the house, and the rooms are described in detail. Included in these descriptions is the poem in the epigraph — neatly written and framed — above a mantelpiece in each of the guests’ rooms:
Ten little soldier boys went out to dine; One choked his little self and then there were nine.
Nine little soldier boys sat up very late; One overslept himself and then there were eight.
Eight little soldier boys travelling in Devon; One said he'd stay there and then there were seven.
Seven little soldier boys chopping up sticks; One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.
Six little soldier boys playing with a hive; A bumblebee stung one and then there were five.
Five little soldier boys going in for law; One got in Chancery and then there were four.
Four little soldier boys going out to sea; A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.
Three little soldier boys walking in the zoo; A big bear hugged one and then there were two.
Two little soldier boys sitting in the sun; One got frizzled up and then there was one.
One little soldier boy was left all alone; He went out and hanged himself and then there were none.
I have my own thoughts on why Christie wrote this novel centered around, and knowing, this rhyme’s connection to Jim Crow-era ideology, especially in conjunction with what is eventually revealed about the characters in the first four chapters. You can find more reading on this rhyme here (as well as primary source material), but please be aware of its contents and language and take care of yourself. I won’t yet break down this relationship between the characters and the epigraph until we finish the novel at the end of the month; however, you’re more than welcome to pose questions and discuss your thoughts in the comments. Just be aware and respectful of its historical context and know I will delete those that I deem inappropriate.
Several clues to solving the riddle in this epigraph are littered throughout the first few chapters—which ones did you catch?
An Evening Tea Party
I love chapters three and four. You have all of the drama happening under one roof at one table, at an introductory dinner where very few of the guests have anything in common. No one has actually seen Mr. Owen, which is entirely peculiar, isn’t it? Then, suddenly — a spooky voice, a racket, and a bunch of accusations go flying as everyone tries to blame everyone else.
Then, the other shoe drops.
Not a single one of these people on this island has clean hands. It turns out the reputable Justice Wargrave (an interesting surname, considering) meddles with juries to condemn criminals to die. Mr. and Mrs. Rogers have been accused of allowing their previous employer to die for an inheritance. The General sent one of his own men out to die in the Great War due to jealousy. Anthony Marston had, whilst speeding, hit and subsequently killed children with his car. Dr. Armstrong operated on a patient while drunk. Each of the guests, in turn, are revealed for their worst traits and are guilty of some measure of folly, to varying degrees—and absolutely none are guiltless.
And so, it begs the question—are we as readers meant to be sympathetic to their fears and fate? Are we supposed to judge them outright based on these accusations (and for some, the confirmation of their own horrific deeds)? Some of the acts in this chapter dig into the mindset of colonizers, child neglect, manslaughter, and corruption, and we’ve barely even scratched the surface of the inner workings of these characters.
Before we can even begin to question our own ideas of this cast, the rich boy Anthony Marston knocks back another drink, abruptly chokes, and falls to the ground. And then there were nine… It was inevitable, really.
As we continue to read And Then There Were None into next week, I encourage you throughout this reread to note behaviors, descriptions, or clues you find interesting—what do you notice about how the characters are established in beginning of the novel? What about the progression of the setting? Where are you seeing connections to the poem central to the novel, and what, exactly, is Christie’s argument about justice?
Writing Prompts
Keep a reading journal alongside your reread with a few guided questions (you can also respond in the comments!):
Reflect: Which of the cast of characters introduced in the first few chapters jump out at you? Why?
React: Each of the characters defends their actions against the accusations on the record. From what you’ve learned, which of these characters did you find the guiltiest?
Analyze: What connections can you make between the descriptions of the characters, setting, and events and the poem detailed in the epigraph and in each of the rooms?
Create: Imagine receiving a letter in the mail inviting you to the island. What would your letter say to convince you to come?
Further Reading
Be mindful that some of these may contain spoilers!
“Ten Little N*******” by Cassian Delmare (Content Warning: Derogatory Language)
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