Aaah -- the "different title" trap, how I hate it.  There is precisely one example of a title change that resonates with me (Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None, which was originally published as Ten Little Niggers and, alternatively, Ten Little Indians), but with this one exception, I can't think of a single title change that actually serves my interests as a reader.

I think the one change that still most infuriates me for the sheer ignorance and bigotry of its motivation is the change of the title of J.K. Rowling's first Harry Potter novel from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone to Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

But I'd come to detest the practice long before that, as Golden Age mystery novelists such as Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh and Patricia Wentworth, whose books account for a particularly large share of my reading material, frequently had to suffer the indignity of the publisher missing with the titles that they themselves had given to their books, based on the notion that the original title would presumably be incomprehensible to readers outside Great Britain.  The list of their title changes includes:

Agatha Christie:

(Note: Christie had a hand in some of these title changes (mostly with short stories; in many cases, especially with the "spoilery" or plain nonsensical new titles of her novels, however, she didn't.)

* Lord Edgeware Dies -- A/K/A: Thirteen for Dinner

* Three-Act Tragedy -- A/K/A: Murder in Three Acts

* Murder on the Orient Express -- A/K/A: Murder on the Calais Coach

* Death in the Clouds -- A/K/A: Death in the Air

* The ABC Murders -- A/K/A: The Alphabet Murders

* Dumb Witness -- A/K/A: Poirot Loses a Client; Murder at Littlegreen House; The Mystery at Littlegreen House

* Hercule Poirot’s Christmas -- A/K/A: Murder for Christmas; A Holiday for Murder

* One, Two, Buckle My Shoe -- A/K/A: The Patriotic Murders; An Overdose of Death

* Five Little Pigs -- A/K/A: Murder in Retrospect

* The Hollow -- A/K/A: Murder After Hours

* Taken at the Flood -- A/K/A: There is a Tide

* Mrs. McGinty’s Dead -- A/K/A: Blood Will Tell

* After the Funeral -- A/K/A: Funerals Are Fatal

* Hickory, Dickory, Dock -- A/K/A: Hickory, Dickory, Death

* Murder in the Mews (collection) -- A/K/A: Dead Man’s Mirror

* Murder in the Mews (short story) -- A/K/A: Good Night for a Murder

* Dead Man’s Mirror (short story) -- A/K/A: Hercule Poirot and the Broken Mirror; expansion of the nonseries short story The Second Gong

* Four and Twenty Blackbirds (short story) -- A/K/A: Poirot and the Regular Customer

* The Triangle at Rhodes (short story) -- A/K/A: Before It’s Too Late and Double Alibi

* The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding (short story) -- expansion of the story The Theft of the Royal Ruby, A/K/A: The Christmas Adventure

* The Adventure of Johnny Waverly (short story) -- A/K/A: At the Stroke of Twelve

* Double Sin (short story) -- A/K/A: By Road or Rail

* Problem at Sea (short story) -- A/K/A: Poirot and the Crime in Cabin 66; The Quickness of the Hand

* The Dream (short story) -- A/K/A: The Three Strange Points

* The Mystery of the Baghdad Chest (short story) -- expanded into The Mystery of the Spanish Chest

* They Do It with Mirrors -- A/K/A: Murder with Mirrors

* 4:50 from Paddington -- A/K/A: What Mrs. McGillicuddy Saw! and Murder, She Said

* The Mirror Crack’d from Side to Side -- A/K/A: The Mirror Crack’d

* The Thirteen Problems (collection) -- A/K/A: The Tuesday Club Murders

* Sanctuary (short story) -- A/K/A: The Man on the Chancel Steps

* Murder Is Easy -- A/K/A: Easy to Kill

* Towards Zero -- A/K/A: Come and Be Hanged

* Sparkling Cyanide -- A/K/A: Remembered Death

* Yellow Iris (short story) -- A/K/A: Hercule Poirot and the Sixth Chair

* Mr. Parker Pyne, Detective (collection) -- A/K/A: Parker Pyne Investigates

* The Love Detectives (short story) -- A/K/A: At the Crossroads

* Why Didn’t They Ask Evans -- A/K/A: The Boomerang Clue

* And Then There Were None -- A/K/A: Ten Little Niggers; Ten Little Indians

* Destination Unknown -- A/K/A: So Many Steps to Death

* The Mousetrap (play) -- originally written as a radio play called Three Blind Mice; based on the short story / novella also called Three Blind Mice

* While the Lights Last and Other Stories (collection) -- The Harlequin Tea Set and Other Stories

* The Actress (short story) -- A/K/A: A Trap for the Unwary

* Wireless (short story) -- A/K/A: Where There’s a Will

* The Listerdale Mystery (short story) -- A/K/A: The Benevolent Butler

* The Manhood of Edward Robinson (short story) -- A/K/A: The Day of His Dreams

* Mr. Eastwood’s Adventure (short story) -- A/K/A: The Mystery of the Spanish Shawl; The Mystery of the Second Cucumber

Ngaio Marsh:

* Surfeit of Lampreys -- A/K/A: Death of a Peer

* Swing Brother Swing -- A/K/A: A Wreath for Rivera

* Opening Night -- A/K/A: Night at the Vulcan

* Spinsters in Jeopardy -- abridged in the U.S. as The Bride of Death

* Off With His Head -- A/K/A: Death of a Fool

* Death at the Dolphin -- A/K/A: Killer Dolphin

Patricia Wentworth:

* Danger Point -- A/K/A: In the Balance

* Miss Silver Intervenes -- A/K/A: Miss Silver Deals with Death

* The Traveller Returns -- A/K/A: She Came Back

* Pilgrim's Rest -- A/K/A: Dark Threat

* Spotlight -- A/K/A: Wicked Uncle

* The Brading Collection -- A/K/A: Mr Brading's Collection

* Anna, Where Are You? -- A/K/A: Death At Deep End

* The Gazebo -- A/K/A: The Summerhouse

* Who Pays the Piper? -- A/K/A: Account Rendered

* Little More Than Kin -- A/K/A: More Than Kin

* Seven Green Stones -- A/K/A: Outrageous Fortune

* Devil-in-the-Dark -- A/K/A: Touch And Go

* Unlawful Occasions -- A/K/A: Weekend with Death

More recently, Golden Age mysteries have been republished with altered titles in an obvious bid to fit them into the holiday sales bracket:

* George Heyer's Envious Casca has been rechristened A Christmas Party; and

* Gladys Mitchell's Dead Men's Morris and The Groaning Spinney are being republished as Death Comes at Christmas and Murder in the Snow, respectively.

Other recent examples -- where the altered title, moreover, doesn't even make sense based on the contents of the book -- are, courtesy of the reminder in Mike Finn's post for this task, Philip Pullman's first His Dark Materials novel, Northern Lights (published as The Golden Compass outside the UK), and C.J. Tudor's The Taking of Annie Thorne (published as The Hiding Place otuside the UK).

It's not just fiction, either, though.  Just looking at the Flat Book Society's selections for this present year, the last two selections have both been published under different titles:

* David Barrie's Supernavigators: Exploring the Wonders of How Animals Find Their Way was originally called Incredible Journeys: Exploring the Wonders of Animal Navigation; and

* Bob Berman's Earth-Shattering: Violent Supernovas, Galactic Explosions, Biological Mayhem, Nuclear Meltdowns, and Other Hazards to Life in Our Universe can also be found under the title Boom!: The Violent Supernovas, Galactic Explosions, and Earthly Mayhem that Shook our Universe.

And don't even get me started on translations ... I guess it's a good thing that Alexandre Dumas's best-known novels, The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo are only known under a single title in English, because enough of his other books (which arguably could use that sort of consistency even more) aren't.  Just consider:

* Marie Stuart: Mary Stuart; Mary Queen of Scots

* Le chevalier d'Harmental: The Chevalier d'Harmental; The Chateau d'Harmental; The Conspirators

* Ascanio: Francis I; The Sculptor's Apprentice

* Sylvandire: Beau Tancrède; The Marriage Verdict

* Fernande: Fernande, The Story of a Courtesan; The Fallen Angel

* La Reine Margot: Margaret de Navarre; Marguerite de Valois

* La guerre des femmes: The War of Women; Woman's War; Nanon

* Le chevalier de Maison-Rouge: The Knight of Redcastle; The Chevalier de Maison-Rouge

* La dame de Monsoreau: Diana of Meridor; Chicot the Jester; La Dame de Monsoreau; Diane

* Le bâtard de Mauléon: Agenor de Mauléon; The Half Brothers; The Head and the Hand; The Iron Hand

Les deux Diane: The Two Dianas; The Taking of Calais; The Chatelet; The Comte de Montgomery

* Mémoires d'un médecin, Joseph Balsamo: Memoirs of a Physician; Andrée de Tavarney; The Chevalier; Joseph Balsamo; Madame du Barry; The Countess Dubarry; The Elixir of Life; Cagliostro

* Ange Pitou: Taking the Bastille; Six Years Later; The Royal Life-Guard; Ange Pitou

* Le page du duc de Savoie: The Page of the Duke of Savoy; The Duke's Page; Leone-Leona; Saint Quentin; The Tourney of the Rue Saint Antoine

* Les mohicans de Paris I: The Monsieur Jackal; The Carbonari; The Horrors of Paris, or, the Flower of the Faubourg; The Mohicans of Paris; The Suicides; Monsieur Sarranti; Princess Regina

* Les mohicans de Paris II, Salvator le commissionnaire:Salvator; Conrad de Valgeneuse; Rose-de-Noël; The Chief of Police; Madame de Rozan

* Les compagnons de Jéhu: The Company of Jéhu; The Aide-de-Camp of Napoleon

* Le capitaine Richard: The Twin Captains; The Twin Lieutenants

* Les louves de Machecoul: She-Wolves of Machecoul; The Last Vendée

* La maison de glace: The Russian Gipsy; The Palace of Ice

* La San-Felice et Emma Lyonna: The Lovely Lady Hamilton; The Beauty and the Glory; Love and Liberty; The Neapolitan Lovers

* Les blancs et les bleus: The Whites and the Blues; The First Republic; The Polish Spy; The Prussians on the Rhine; The 13th Vendémaire; The 18th Fructidor

Two of my favorite German classics are suffering a similar fate:

* The title of Theodor Storm's Der Schimmelreiter is translated as anything from The Rider on the White Horse to The Dykemaster (neither of which captures the spooky subtext of the German title: The Rider on the White Horse is a literal translation of the words but not their meaning in this particular context; The Dykemaster is a rendition of the main character's job -- which I actually prefer, as the sinister connotations giving rise to the German title's subtext arise from that job); and

* Lion Feuchtwanger's Die Jüdin von Toledo can be found in English (to the extent it can be found at all) as either Raquel, The Jewess of Toledo, A Spanish Ballad ... or a combination of all of the above.

I guess by comparison we can be glad that Miss Smilla only lost her form of address and the instinctive "feeling" was transmogrified into the more physical "sense" when Peter Høeg's Miss Smilla's Feeling for Snow (the UK title of Frøken Smillas fornemmelse for sne) became Smilla's Sense of Snow in the American publisher's bid to match the alliteration contained in the original Danish title -- again at the expense of forsaking the original title's subtext, which is all about instinctive and subconscious, not about sensory and possibly even conscious responses.

(Task: St. Nicholas is a man of many names in English alone – Santa Claus, Saint Nick, Father Christmas … although in the English speaking world he only comes once (at Christmas, not also on December 6 – whereas in Germany and the Netherlands he makes his visits under different names on both occasions). 

Which of your favorite books were published under different titles in the same language, e.g., in North America vs. Britain?  Have you ever bought a book under a title unfamiliar to you, only to discover belatedly that it was one you already own / had already read under a different title?)

That half star is because my expectations, based on previous Heyer mysteries, were completely blown away.

Envious Casca is both a text-book Country House Mystery and Locked Room Mystery, and it's far and away the best Heyer mystery I've read so far.  It's a slow burn, certainly; almost half the book goes by before anyone dies, but Heyer placates her audience - at least this one - with the acerbic humour and no-holds-barred verbal warfare that takes place amongst the family members, written brilliantly by Heyer.  These people are so vile to each other the only wonder is that the blades didn't come out sooner; at one point, tea was served and I thought to myself "I wouldn't drink that if I were you. Any of you."

It feels like it would be too easy to give away important plot points here, so I'll just say the murderer wasn't who I thought it would be (although I was close), some of the characters were a little too vile to be believed, and I'd have preferred at least one more paragraph, preferably a page, at the end.  There's a small romance, because it's Heyer, but I'm not sure it isn't launched and HEA'd all on the same page, so it's really not more than a small also-ran.  That it would end the way it did felt inevitable, but there was never any actual romancing.

The more I type, the closer I get to spoilers, so just read it if you like anything you've ever read by Heyer (she's hit and miss in both romance and mystery) and you're in the mood for a slow read with great, biting dialogue.  I don't think you'll be disappointed.

I read this for Halloween Bingo's Country House Mystery square.

It's probably no secret that my comfort reads are Golden Age mysteries -- I'm slowly making my way through the works of the members of the Detection Club, including the forgotten and recently republished ones, but most of all, I keep coming back to, again and again:

Arthur Conan Doyle / Sherlock Holmes: Still the grand master -- both the detective and his creator -- that no serious reader of mysteries can or should even try to side-step.  I've read, own, and have reread countless times all 4 novels and 56 short stories constituting the Sherlock Holmes canon, and am now making my way through some of the better-known /-reputed Holmes pastiches (only to find -- not exactly to my surprise -- that none of them can hold a candle to the original), as well as Conan Doyle's "non-Holmes" fiction.

And, of course --

The Golden Age Queens of Crime

Agatha Christie: Like Sherlock Holmes, part of my personal canon from very early on.  I've read and, in many cases, reread more than once and own (largely as part of a series of anniversary omnibus editions published by HarperCollins some 10 years ago) all of Agatha Christie's novels and short stories published under this name, as well as her autobiography, with only those of her books published under other names (e.g., the Mary Westmacott romances) left to read.

Dorothy L. Sayers: My mom turned me onto Sayers when I was in my teens, and I have never looked back.  I've read all of her Lord Peter Wimsey novels and short stories, volume 1 of her collected letters (which covers her correspondence from childhood to the end of her career as a mystery writer), and some of her non-Wimsey short stories and essays.  Gaudy Night and the two addresses jointly published under the title Are Women Human? are among my all-time favorite books; not least because they address women's position in society decades before feminism even became a mass movement to be reckoned with, and with a validity vastly transcending both Sayers's own lifetime and our own. -- Next steps: The remainder of Sayers's non-Wimsey stories and of her essays, as well as her plays.

Ngaio Marsh: A somewhat later entry into my personal canon, but definitely a fixture now.  I've read all of her Inspector Alleyn books and short stories and reread many of them.  Still on my TBR: her autobiography (which happily is contained in the last installments of the series of 3-book-each omnibus volumes I own).

Patricia Wentworth: Of the Golden Age Queens of Crime, the most recent entry into my personal canon.  I'd read two books by her a few years ago and liked one a lot, the other one considerably less, but Tigus expertly steered the resident mystery fans on Booklikes to all the best entries in the Miss Silver series, which I'm now very much looking forward to completing -- along with some of Wentworth's other fiction.

Georgette Heyer: I'm not a romance reader, so I doubt that I'll ever go anywhere near her Regency romances.  But I'm becoming more and more of a fan of her mysteries; if for no other reason than that nobody, not even Agatha Christie, did viciously bickering families as well as her.

Margery Allingham: I'm actually more of a fan of Albert Campion as portrayed by Peter Davison in the TV adaptations of some of Allingham's mysteries than of her Campion books as such, but I like at least some of those well enough to eventually want to complete the series -- God knows I've read enough of them at this point for the completist in me to have kicked in long ago.  I've also got Allingham's very first novel, Blackerchief Dick (non-Campion; historical fiction involving pirates) sitting on my audio TBR.

This was a season- (and 16 Festive Tasks-) induced reread; Envious Casca actually is, however, my favorite among all the Georgette Heyer mysteries I've read so far.  Recently republished under the title A Christmas Party (shame on anybody hearing a cash register tinkling faintly in the background), it's the seasonal entry in Heyer's series of country house mysteries -- investigated first by Inspector Hannasyde and later by his erstwhile sergeant-turned-Inspector Hemingway --, and thus fits nicely into the mold of the wave of Christmas house party mysteries that enjoyed a near-undying popularity in the first half of the 20th century, and which have recently seen a major renaissance.

I like this book considerably better than most of Heyer's other mysteries, as most of her other books are populated by a crowd of just-too-nice-to-be-believed nice chaps and bright young things (one of whom, or their equally over-the-top nice elders, typically turns out to be the murderer, with someone else hiding a dose of poison under their oh-so-nice facade as well) ... all of which had me exasperated after a while and deciding I was just about done with Heyer.  Not so here, however: the only over-the-top-nice person is an old fogey named Joseph Herriard, who is decidedly more of a parody than a straightforwardly-created character; everybody else, beginning with the victim-to-be, Joe's curmudgeonly brother Nathaniel, and all the way down to the young'uns wished upon Nat by Joe for what has to be one of the Top 10 ill-assorted Christmas parties in the history of mystery writing, seems to feed on regular doses of pure acid, which makes for rather spirited exchanges -- or, um, well, actually, anything from squabbles to all-out tongue-lashing fights -- pretty much the whole way through.  (And the servants aren't any better ... I suppose a Golden Age reader might have asked, "how can they expected to be with the kind of example set for them Upstairs?").  All of which, in the hands of a different writer, could easily be a recipe for disaster when it comes to synching that sort of characters with the proper Christmas spirit, but Heyer pulls it off beautifully, essentially by taking neither Christmas nor her characters excessively seriously, while however never talking down to them, either -- or to the reader.

The narration by Ulli Birvé (who narrates all of Heyer's books) is OK, but just a bit too contrived and unnatural at times for my liking -- besides, she gives Inspector Hemingway the audiobok narrator's standard "country copper" accent, which he decidedly doesn't have in my ears -- all of which is why I subtracted a half star for the audio version. Heyer's actual book is a 4 1/2 star read for me.

I revisited this for the "Christmas" square of the 16 Festive Tasks: Read a book whose protagonist is called Mary, Joseph (or Jesus, if that’s a commonly used name in your culture) or any variations of those names (e.g., Maria or Pepe).  (It's impossible to pin down one single protagonist in this book -- in cinematic awards terms, this one, like many country house mysteries, would be a sure-fire candidate for a "best ensemble" award -- but Joe Herriard is definitely one of the stand-out characters in an overall deliciously acrimonious cast.)

"Damn it, he was in here with the door locked!" Stephen said. "He can't have been stabbed!"

I think Heyer wrote a story about people she hated in real life, relished and had a hell of a time making them (an exaggerated version) vapid, insipid, and whiney; but oh so highly quotable. This is second in the Inspector Hemingway series and god love the man for the testimonies and evidence he has to shift through to discover the killer. As a locked door mystery, it's pretty good. The cast of characters is varied but small enough to keep track of and most work as plausible red herrings, I was wrong with my first guess as to who the villain was. The first half is mostly setting the scene with introductions and glimpses into characters' personalities and hints to possible murder motivations as they arrive to the house party. The second half is where the murder occurs and the whodunit gets going. It's a bit slow going as first the sergeant and then Inspector Hemingway arriving on the scene talk to everyone but then the clues start rolling in and the story starts to make headway. How the murder occurs was a little goofy but I would classify this as a cozy mystery with some romance inspirations sprinkled in, so it's all in good fun.

The following quote is a bit of a spoiler and my little comment after it, you'd know who ends up pairing up and probably figure out two characters who aren't the killer. Beware! You can pick back up at the Bonus :)

Lest you forget this is a Heyer and those romance inspirations I was talking about,

He pulled her rather roughly into his arms. "O God, Mathilda, do keep me in order!" he said, in a suddenly thickened voice. "I need you! I need you damnably!"

She found that her own voice was unsteady. "I know. You are such a fool, Stephen:  such a dear impossible fool!"

"So are you, to care a damn for me," he said. "I never thought you did. I can't think why you do."

She took his face between her hands, looking up at him a little mistily. "I like savage creatures. Bull-terriers and Stephen Herriard."

Hey, you leave bull-terriers out of this! I had a contentious relationship with Stephen but he, somewhat, redeemed himself in the end. But seriously, bless her heart and all the Mathildas in the world who take these men on.

Bonus: 

Heyer provides us with your next time you want to leave work early excuse. If someone accidentally brushes up against you:

Nathaniel at once became a cripple. He said:  "My lumbago! Damn you, don't do that!" and tottered to a chair, one hand to the small of his back and his manly form bent with suffering.

Lumbago! Works every time.