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Based on my numerous status updates, it might not come as a surprise to you:
This book was bad and it´s one of the worst books I have read in my entire life. Such a pointless, confusing mess of a book and ridiculous beyond disbelief. This novel actually makes me question Agatha Christie´s mental health in later life. Because there is a lot of paranoia going on here: there are evil youths, a dash of a Nazi plot and a weird scientists. At some point I actually thought Christie would take a turn towards a zombie apocalypse plot. I was prepared for anything.
And yes, there is a main character, sort off, but Christie forgot all about him at the 260 page mark, just to make him appear again in the epilogue like an afterthought.
There were some chapters and passages, though, that made me laugh so hard because of their sheer ridiculousness. So there is that. The story is still an abysmal one.
Having read this immediately after Sophie Hannah´s "The Monogram Murders", the question of "Which book is better?" poses itself. And as odd as it may sound, I enjoyed "Passenger to Frankfurt" more than "The Monogram Murders". Both books were crap, but PtF is the more entertaining book out of these two.
Which means, I have to bump my star rating for "The Monogram Murders" down to a half-star-rating, because I most certainly cannot justify to give "Passenger to Frankfurt" more than a half-star-rating.
I have about 35 pages left of this book, but I´m afraid I´m quite drunk at this point. Well, let´s say tipsy, it doesn´t sound quite so bad.
I have to admit, it´s the proper state to plough through this book, because
a pacifying drug has been mentioned, which probably will cure all the young, Arian, misleaded students of their sickness, delusion, whatever ... at least I think so. I´m sorry, but I am drunk. And I´m dreading the end. What can possibly happen? Based on the rest of the book, it can´t be anything good.
Oh, come on, Dame Agatha. You´ve got be kidding me:
A mentally insane Hitler doppelgänger died in the bunker, the real Hitler went to the Argentine and fathered a child. Uh, uh, let me guess: Franz Joseph.
And this whole swapping situation at the mental institution.
And soon as you think, it can get worse than the stuff that has happened before, you´ve got proven that you are wrong.
Introductions were made. Dr. Reichhardt was a large and comfortably-looking man with the habit of saying "Ach so" from time to time.
"Dr Reichhardt is in charge of a large establishment in the neighbourhood of Karlsruhe. He treats there mental patients. I think I am correct in saying that you treat there between five and six hundred patient, am I not right?"
"Ach, so," said Dr. Reichardt.
Bwahahaha....Hahahaha.....Hahahaha....
I´m so sorry, but this made me laugh so hard. It might be the wine, though ;)