Anne Hart - Agatha Christie’s Marple

Few would regard all this as an exciting life, but nowhere is there any hint that Miss Marple considered herself a martyr. She did, however, once confide to a lonely person:

‘I know what you mean … One is alone when the last one who remembers is gone. I have nephews and nieces and kind friends – but there’s no one who belongs to the old days. I’ve been alone for quite a long time now.’

Behold her, then: Miss Jane Marple, her parents dead, her sister dead, her jolly aunts and uncles long gone to their proper rest. She is living alone in genteel and thrifty old age in the quiet village of St Mary Mead, the possessor of a small but pretty Victorian house no doubt purchased from a modest inheritance left her some years before by her dear parents.

It is the 1930s – or is it the 1920s? – and she is about to embark on an amazing career.

*It is interesting to recall that Caroline Sheppard, Miss Marple’s progenitor, had, for a short and interesting time, Hercule Poirot as a neighbour, a person whom Miss Marple herself apparently never met.

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