At the hand of an outrageous prankster, top hats are going missing all over London, snatched from the heads of some of the city's most powerful people--but is the hat thief the same as the person... This description may be from another edition of this product.
Classic golden-age-type mystery with an interesting setting. Fun to read, and not as pretentious as some of Carr's books could be.
I do not like thee Dr. Fell
Published by Thriftbooks.com User , 22 years ago
"The Mad Hatter Mystery" has nothing to do with Alice's Mad Hatter, although it takes place in a locale almost as English as Wonderland, i.e. the Tower of London. As may be guessed from the murder site, Carr relies heavily on atmospherics: shrouds of fog; a corpse with a crossbow bolt through its heart; an unpublished story by Edgar Allen Poe; and above all a mad prankster who steals the headgear of London's elite (everyone wore hats in 1933) and displays his prizes in the most unlikely locations.When a corpse shows up near Traitor's Gate with a stolen top hat jammed on its head, Scotland Yard automatically enlists Dr. Gideon Fell to solve the bizarre murder. He solves it of course--but not before an army of suspects each takes his or her turn in the spotlight. Although Carr is most famously known for his locked -room mysteries and 'impossible' crimes, he was also a master of the eerie atmosphere. "The Mad Hatter Mystery" has both in great quantity: lots of macabre touches; and the solution will surprise even the keenest mystery buff. Dr. Fell's tics and grotesqueries aren't as intrusive as in some of Carr's other mysteries starring his massive, eccentrically-dressed detective. The doctor also shows a great deal of restraint (for him) in dropping hints that he already knows the identity of the murderer, even though it's only page forty-five and the reader has two-hundred-and-forty-one pages to go before he or she figures out whodunit. Supposedly modeled after Carr's idol, G.K. Chesterton, Dr. Fell also resembles a jovial Father Christmas or a President Chester A. Arthur, resting comfortably after a vast meal that was consumed with countless pints of beer. He's not my favorite fictional detective, although he appeared in twenty-three novels culminating in "Dark of the Moon" (1967). However, I do like Carr's atmospheric mysteries so I'll probably end up reading all twenty-three of 'em. This is one of the best, so far.
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