Top Ten Tuesday: Books featuring doubles, doppelgängers and impersonations

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This week’s topic for Top Ten Tuesday (hosted by That Artsy Reader Girl) is “Books that Include/Feature [insert your favourite theme or plot device here]”. There were lots of different options here! After some thought, I decided to list ten books with characters who have doubles and are either mistaken for them or decide to impersonate them.

1. The Scapegoat by Daphne du Maurier – I’ve read all of du Maurier’s novels and I think this is one of her best. John, an Englishman visiting France, meets his exact double, Jean de Gué, a French count. As they are both dissatisfied with their current lives, John ends up impersonating Jean, taking his place at the family château with interesting results!

2. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens – This is probably my favourite Dickens novel, featuring one of my favourite characters, Sydney Carton, who bears a strong resemblance to Charles Darnay, a Frenchman on trial for treason in 1780s London.

3. The Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope – One of the most famous impersonation novels of all time is this 1894 classic by Anthony Hope in which an English gentleman, Rudolf Rassendyll, impersonates the King of Ruritania to save him from a treasonous plot.

4. The Man in the Iron Mask by Alexandre Dumas – This is the final book in Dumas’ d’Artagnan series which began with The Three Musketeers. The first half of the novel revolves around one of the musketeers, Aramis, and a plot involving a man imprisoned in the Bastille who resembles the King of France and is forced to hide his face behind an iron mask.

5. The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins – This is another favourite of mine! It begins with drawing master Walter Hartright’s meeting on a lonely London road with a mysterious woman dressed all in white who has escaped from an asylum. The next day Walter takes up a teaching position at Limmeridge House in Cumberland where he finds that one of his students, Laura Fairlie, bears a striking resemblance to the woman in white…

6. The Ivy Tree by Mary Stewart – I love Mary Stewart’s books, including this one, in which Mary Grey is approached by a man who has mistaken her for his cousin, Annabel, and persuades her to impersonate Annabel as part of a scheme to inherit his great-uncle’s fortune.

7. The Mark of the Horse Lord by Rosemary Sutcliff – This book appeared on my recent Top Ten Tuesday list of books set in the ancient world, but it fits perfectly with this week’s topic as well. In Roman Britain, Phaedrus, a slave, is asked to impersonate King Midir of the Dalriadain, whom he closely resembles and who has been overthrown by a usurper queen.

8. The Great Impersonation by E. Phillips Oppenheim – The title says it all! This entertaining impersonation novel from 1920 begins with Everard Dominey meeting his doppelganger in an African desert and coming up with a plan to steal his identity.

9. Dance of Death by Helen McCloy – Published in 1938, this is one of a series of detective novels featuring the psychiatrist Dr Basil Willing. The body of a young woman is found buried in snow in a New York street and is quickly identified by the police – but the mystery deepens when they interview her cousin, who looks very like the dead girl and claims she had been asked to impersonate her.

10. Destination Unknown by Agatha Christie – This is a standalone thriller rather than a detective novel. Our heroine, Hilary Craven, encounters a British secret agent in a Casablanca hotel who persuades her to impersonate a dying woman whom she resembles. He hopes she will be able to locate the woman’s husband, one of a group of scientists who have disappeared. Maybe not one of Christie’s best, but I still enjoyed it.

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Have you read any of these? Can you think of any other books where a character has a double and/or impersonates them?

Four Days’ Wonder by A.A. Milne

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A.A. Milne is, of course, best known for his Winnie the Pooh stories, but he also wrote a wide variety of works aimed at adults, ranging from novels and plays to essays and poetry. I read and loved his detective novel, The Red House Mystery, a few years ago and was disappointed that he hadn’t written more of them, so when I came across Four Days’ Wonder, described as a ‘spoof on the detective novel’, I thought it might be the next best thing.

Eighteen-year-old Jenny Windell has been raised by her Aunt Caroline at Auburn Lodge, having been orphaned as a child. Now Caroline has died as well and Jenny has moved in with another guardian, the family lawyer, so that Auburn Lodge can be rented out. However, she still has a key and absentmindedly lets herself into the house one day, forgetting that she no longer lives there. To her surprise, she is confronted by the body of her other aunt, Jane Latour, an actress whom she hasn’t seen for several years, lying dead on the drawing room floor.

It seems obvious that Aunt Jane has slipped on the polished floor and hit her head on a brass door stop, but when Jenny hears the new tenants returning to the house, she panics and escapes through a window. It immediately occurs to her that she has left her monogrammed handkerchief beside the body and that her footprints are now visible under the window. Worse still, she had wiped the blood off the door stop (with the handkerchief) and placed it on top of the piano, thereby concealing the evidence. Jenny, who has read a lot of murder mysteries and has an active imagination, is convinced that she has made herself the number one suspect. Her solution is to go on the run, disappearing into the countryside and sleeping on haystacks. What could go wrong?

Four Days’ Wonder is not a book you can take too seriously and Milne clearly didn’t intend it to be. It’s a comic novel, with a similar kind of humour to P.G. Wodehouse or Christie’s Tommy and Tuppence series, where the characters keep getting themselves into ridiculous, farcical situations. The book was published in 1933 and you can see that Milne is parodying various tropes of the Golden Age crime novels that were so popular at that time – dead bodies found in drawing rooms, mistaken identities, messages written in code, and so on. What you won’t find is any real detective work or, in fact, any real mystery. There are policeman (who, naturally, get everything wrong) but as we know from the beginning that Jenny didn’t kill Aunt Jane and that it was almost certainly an accident, there’s not much suspense in terms of wondering what the solution will be.

Jenny is a very likeable heroine, as is her friend Nancy Fairbrother, whom she enlists to help her with her escape. There’s also a love interest for Jenny in the form of Derek Fenton, a young man she meets while on the run, who just happens to be the brother of the crime writer Archibald Fenton, Nancy’s employer. This leads to yet more misunderstandings and comedy moments – such as when, unaware of who Archibald is, Jenny shoots him with her trusty Watson Combination Watch Dog and Water Pistol! Four Days’ Wonder is a lot of fun and I kept thinking that it would make an entertaining adaptation for TV or film – so I wasn’t entirely surprised to find that there is already one, from 1936, although it doesn’t seem to stick very closely to the book and I can’t find it available anywhere either to buy or stream.

My edition of this book is published by Farrago, an imprint of independent publisher Duckworth Books. It’s one of five Milne books for adults available to buy through Farrago’s website, the others being Mr Pim, Two People, Chloe Marr and The Rabbits. I must try more of them at some point!

The Morrigan by Kim Curran – #ReadingIrelandMonth25

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Trying to tell my story is like trying to hold the smoke of a forest fire in your hands or force an ocean into a cup. I resist. I re-form. How could they succeed when even I didn’t know who I was from one moment to another?

There have been so many Greek mythology retellings recently, it came as a nice surprise to see that this new novel by Kim Curran takes as its subject not another Greek goddess, but an Irish one. In Irish mythology, the Morrigan is known as the goddess of war and fate, a fierce, shapeshifting figure who leads warriors into battle and can foretell whether they will live or die. She is sometimes known as Badb, sometimes as Macha and sometimes as Nemain and often believed to be all three. In The Morrigan, Kim Curran sets out to tell her story.

The novel begins with the Tuatha Dé Danann, the supernatural race to which the Morrigan belongs, returning to Ireland having spent many generations ‘in the north of the world learning arts and magic’. Soon after their arrival, they defeat the Fir Bolg in battle to reclaim Ireland for themselves, only to be defeated in turn by the invading Milesians, who drive them underground. Rather than stay beneath the earth with her own people, the Morrigan goes out into the world where she discovers that even the power of a goddess is limited in a land ruled by men.

The Morrigan is beautifully written and as a debut novel, I thought it was very impressive. Having very little knowledge of Irish mythology, I found it fascinating and particularly enjoyed the first section about the Tuatha Dé Danann, where the writing style, together with the shapeshifting, magical beings and epic battles, makes it feel like a high fantasy novel. The later stages of the book are based on the Ulster Cycle – with the Morrigan crossing paths with Medb, Queen of Connacht; Conchobar, King of Ulaid; and the legendary warrior Cúchulainn – and feel slightly more grounded in reality, but less captivating for me personally. I did love the way Curran incorporates all of the Morrigan’s three parts into the novel, moving seamlessly from Badb to Macha to Nemain, showing how her personality and actions change as she takes on each persona, while at the same time retaining memories of her previous lives and experiences.

However, there was so much happening in this book that I started to feel overwhelmed. There seemed to be no real direction to the plot and it felt like a string of short stories and separate episodes rather than one cohesive narrative. I think there was easily enough material here for a trilogy, rather than trying to pack everything into a single book. Maybe readers more familiar with Irish myth and legend would have found it all easier to follow than I did, but as a newcomer it was just too much for me to process all at once.

I would still highly recommend this book to anyone interested in sampling some Irish mythology – or anyone with existing knowledge who wants to see how Kim Curran approaches the subject. It has certainly left me wanting to look into some of the stories and characters in more depth and wishing more authors would move away from Greek mythology to explore other parts of the world!

Thanks to Michael Joseph for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

As this book is set in ancient Ireland and the author Kim Curran was born in Dublin, I am contributing this review to #ReadingIrelandMonth25 hosted by Cathy of 746 Books.

Britain’s Greatest Private Detective by Nell Darby

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As someone who enjoys detective novels, I was naturally drawn to this non-fiction book about a real life private detective who achieved fame and success in the late Victorian era. His name (at least the one by which he was best known) was Henry Slater and he was the owner of Britain’s leading detective agency. This new book by Nell Darby explores Henry Slater’s life and career and looks at the world of the early private detective in general – the backgrounds they came from, the type of cases they dealt with, the methods they used and the problems that could arise from those methods.

The Matrimonial Causes Act 1857 is one of the key factors that gave rise to the private detective in the second half of the 19th century. This made it possible for people to request a divorce through the law courts (rather than through a private Act of Parliament as previously) as long as they could prove their spouse had committed adultery. Women would also need to prove one other offence, such as desertion or cruelty. But how could people obtain evidence to show that their partner had been unfaithful? By employing a private detective, of course, and asking them to shadow their husband or wife and look for proof of infidelities. And what do you think happened if the detective couldn’t find any proof – and their client was paying them to deliver results?

Slater’s Detective Agency, who operated from offices in London’s Basinghall Street, advertised all sorts of detective work, but most of their business relied on divorce cases. It was one case in particular that brought about their downfall. Having been hired on behalf of a Mrs Kate Pollard to help her divorce her husband, the agency resorted to underhand methods to get the evidence they needed and were betrayed by a former employee with a personal grudge against Henry Slater. This led to a trial which damaged Slater’s business and exposed his true identity. The Pollard case and the trial which followed form a large part of the book, although Darby moves back and forth between that story, a personal biography of Henry Slater himself and a general history of private detective agencies.

This is a fascinating book and has clearly been very well researched (there’s a long bibliography and an extensive section of notes), but it wasn’t quite what I expected. I thought there would be details of more of Slater’s cases than just the Pollard one and more discussion of the other types of work the agency carried out as well as divorces, but maybe there just wasn’t enough information available to do that. I can’t agree with other reviews saying the book reads like a detective novel as there’s very little actual ‘detecting’ being done and certainly not much similarity between Henry Slater and Sherlock Holmes, whose adventures were appearing in print during the same period that Slater was operating. The jumping around from one topic to another also disrupts the flow of the book and meant I couldn’t become as immersed in it as I would have liked.

Still, I enjoyed learning about Henry Slater and how he established his agency, how he found work first through advertising and then through the strength of his fame and reputation, and how he faced challenges from rival companies. It seems that although Slater can be admired for what he achieved in building his business up from nothing and reaching the very top in his chosen profession, he was less skilled in handling his personal relationships with friends and employees – and this, together with his determination to keep his perfect record in winning divorce cases, is what led to his demise.

I was intrigued by the occasional mentions of the women detectives Slater employed, particularly the ones described as ‘cyclist detectives’ who followed their suspects by bicycle. I’ve discovered that Nell Darby has written another book, Sister Sleuths: Female Detectives in Britain, which sounds like a good companion to this one and I’m sure it would be an interesting read as well.

Thanks to Pen & Sword for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Six Degrees of Separation: From Prophet Song to The Old Man’s Birthday

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It’s the first Saturday of the month which means it’s time for another Six Degrees of Separation, hosted by Kate of Books are my Favourite and Best. The idea is that Kate chooses a book to use as a starting point and then we have to link it to six other books of our choice to form a chain. A book doesn’t have to be connected to all of the others on the list – only to the one next to it in the chain.

This month we’re starting with Prophet Song by Paul Lynch. It’s not a book I’ve read, but here’s what it’s about:

“On a dark, wet evening in Dublin, scientist and mother-of-four Eilish Stack answers her front door to find the GNSB on her step. Two officers from Ireland’s newly formed secret police are here to interrogate her husband, Larry, a trade unionist.

Ireland is falling apart. The country is in the grip of a government turning towards tyranny and when her husband disappears, Eilish finds herself caught within the nightmare logic of a society that is quickly unravelling. Soon, she must decide just how far she is willing to go to keep her family safe.

Exhilarating, terrifying and propulsive, Paul Lynch’s Booker Prize-winning novel is a devastating vision of a country falling apart and a moving portrait of the resilience of the human spirit when faced with the darkest of times.”

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It can be difficult to know where to begin when you haven’t read the starter book. I’m going to focus on two words from the first sentence of the blurb – Dublin and scientist. The Coroner’s Daughter by Andrew Hughes (1) is also set in Dublin – in this case in the 19th century – and features a young woman, Abigail Lawless, who, as the title suggests, is the daughter of a coroner. The novel follows Abigail’s investigations into the deaths of a maid and her newborn baby, as well as her determination to pursue her passion for astronomy and forensic science at a time when they were not considered suitable interests for a woman.

Next, a simple link using the word ‘daughter’. Faro’s Daughter by Georgette Heyer (2) was published in 1941 and is one of her Georgian novels, set slightly earlier than her more famous Regencies. The hero, Max Ravenscar is enlisted by his aunt to prevent the marriage of her son, Adrian, to Deb Grantham, the hostess of a gaming house. Although Heyer is always entertaining, this book isn’t one of my favourites as I never really warmed to the characters.

The word ‘faro’ makes me think of ‘pharaoh’. In fact, it has been suggested that the name of the card game faro could be derived from the picture of a pharaoh on an early set of cards. When Women Ruled the World by Kara Cooney (3) is a biography of six female rulers of Ancient Egypt – Merneith, Neferusobek, Hatshepsut, Nefertiti, Tawosret and Cleopatra. I found it interesting because, apart from Cleopatra, I knew nothing at all about these female pharaohs, but I also felt that I didn’t learn as much about them as I would have liked because Cooney spent too much time drawing parallels with modern day world leaders, which seemed to be the real focus of the book.

A much more enjoyable non-fiction book about female rulers is The Dark Queens by Shelley Puhak (4). The book explores the lives of Brunhild and Fredegund, who belonged to the Merovingian dynasty in the 6th century and ruled over large areas of what are now known as France and Germany. Not knowing anything about either of these queens, I found this book completely fascinating and also very entertaining, although it might not suit readers who want something more academic.

I’m linking to another book with the word ‘dark’ in the title now: Full Dark House (5), the first book in Christopher Fowler’s series about two octogenarian detectives, Arthur Bryant and John May, who work for the Peculiar Crimes Unit, a branch of the London Metropolitan Police created to deal with unusual cases. This book includes flashbacks to Bryant and May’s first ever case involving some murders in a London theatre during the Blitz, while another mystery begins to play out in the modern day. I really enjoyed the first four books in this series and still need to continue with the others!

Another book with an elderly protagonist is The Old Man’s Birthday by Richmal Crompton (6). Matthew Royston is preparing to celebrate his ninety-fifth birthday with a family party to which he has invited all of his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. The novel is set during the course of that one day, as we meet each member of the family in the hours leading up to the party. I really enjoyed it and although I can’t find a way to link it back to the starting book this month, I think it’s a good place to end my chain!

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And that’s my chain for March. My links included scientists in Dublin, the word ‘daughter’, faro/pharaoh, women rulers, the word ‘dark’ and elderly characters.

In April we’ll be starting with Salman Rushdie’s memoir, Knife.

My Commonplace Book: February 2025

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A selection of quotes and pictures to represent February’s reading:

commonplace book
noun
a book into which notable extracts from other works are copied for personal use.

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Maybe we just have to react the way we want to. Maybe what we feel and how we feel is the right way to feel about losing someone, irrespective of whether it’s sadness or whatever. It’s just us and how we respond to our own feelings. It’s how we are and we can’t help how we are.

The Other People by C.B. Everett (2025)

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Ah, blogs. The concept now almost seemed quaint. Everyone had a different take on theirs. The blogs came in all sorts of styles: some simple diaries, some hobby sites, others outlets for political rants…

Strange Pictures by Uketsu tr. Jim Rion (2022)

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Knights obey, and if they don’t, they’re not real knights, and they don’t have honour, and the only thing in the world that’s ever really yours is your honour.

The Hymn to Dionysus by Natasha Pulley (2025)

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Bamburgh Castle

Hannah was taken aback by her stepmother’s vehemence. ‘All of history is interpretation to one degree or another,’ she said as mildly as she could, ‘and often there is truth at the heart of these myths.’

The Secrets of the Rose by Nicola Cornick (2025)

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Truth is merely an abstract concept after all, she muses. Everyone has a different version of it.

The Eights by Joanna Miller (2025)

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‘If there is one thing which stands out more than another in this world – and of course,’ said Derek, ‘one thing always does stand out more than another – it is that there are some things which you cannot explain to a policeman.’

Four Days’ Wonder by A.A. Milne (1933)

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Nothing has done more damage to modern detective fiction than the invention of the internet. Forget Sherlock Holmes and his ratiocination or Hercule Poirot’s little grey cells. We have all the information in the world at our fingertips and there’s no longer any need for deduction.

Marble Hall Murders by Anthony Horowitz (2025)

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Hand-carved carousel horse by Allan Herschell Company

Perhaps life is like that, Maisie thinks, perhaps life is like a carousel – it has ups and downs but it eventually comes full circle.

The Midnight Carousel by Fiza Saeed McLynn (2025)

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‘Aunt Jane,’ said Raymond, looking at her curiously, ‘how do you do it? You have lived such a peaceful life and yet nothing seems to surprise you.’

‘I always find one thing very like another in this world,’ said Miss Marple.

The Thirteen Problems by Agatha Christie (1932)

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There is no perfect ending. There are an infinite number of endings.

The Queen and the Countess by Anne O’Brien (2025)

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From the doomed dying world man had ruined, I seemed to catch sight of this other one, new, infinitely alive, and of boundless potential.

Ice by Anna Kavan (1967)

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Corfu

Corfu light was ineffable, full of shivery tricks that made you see what could not be there, made you unable to see what was there, with an enchantment that meant you heard things too.

The Greek House by Dinah Jefferies (2025)

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‘The truth is like a water creature,’ he continued. ‘Too large for any single man to catch. He can take hold of one tentacle, or a silver tail, or a fin, but he’ll never catch the whole creature, not on his own.’

The Hounding by Xenobe Purvis (2025)

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His answer was to create the bicycling detective. This was a two-fold publicity tactic: he had something other agencies did not – not just a lady detective, but a mobile one; and he was creating the impression of a technologically advanced agency using relatively new forms of transport rather than going out on foot. It was novel, but subject to hyperbole, as Slater referred to an ‘army’ of cycling lady detectives in his adverts, which is unlikely.

Britain’s Greatest Private Detective by Nell Darby (2025)

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Favourite books read in February:

The Midnight Carousel, Marble Hall Murders, Strange Pictures and Four Days’ Wonder

Places visited in my February reading:

England, Japan, Greece, France, USA, Canary Islands

Authors read for the first time in February:

C.B. Everett, Uketsu, Fiza Saeed McLynn, Anna Kavan, Nell Darby, Xenobe Purvis

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Reading notes: February seems to have been a very quick month, but it has also been a productive one for me in terms of reading. I managed to contribute three reviews to #ReadIndies month, joined in with the Read Christie challenge and read most of my NetGalley books for March and April. I haven’t posted many reviews, but do have most of them written and scheduled.

In March, I’m hoping to read at least one book each for Reading Ireland Month and Reading Wales Month. I would also like to make some progress with the Walter Scott Prize longlist which was announced a few weeks ago (some of the books on the list are by Welsh or Irish authors, which is perfect).

What did you read in February? Do you have any plans for March?

The Impossible Thing by Belinda Bauer

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I loved this! I remember enjoying Belinda Bauer’s first two books, Blacklands and Darkside, around the time they were published in 2009 and 2011 respectively, but I seemed to lose track of her work after that. When this one caught my eye, I decided to give it a try and I’m very pleased that I did. The plot is completely different from any other crime novel I’ve read.

The Impossible Thing is a novel set in two different periods almost one hundred years apart and linked by the same crime – the theft and illegal trading of wild birds’ eggs. In 1926, gangs of ‘egg-climmers’ gather on the Yorkshire coast and lower each other from ropes over the cliffs to steal eggs from the seabirds nesting there. Traders and collectors are willing to hand over large sums of money for the most rare and beautiful eggs, so when little Celie Sheppard from Metland Farm makes the dangerous descent through a crack in a ledge of rock and obtains a perfect red guillemot egg, it creates a sensation.

In the present day, in rural Wales, Patrick Fort decides to visit his friend, Nick, and arrives just in time to discover that both Nick and his mother have been tied up and robbed. The only thing stolen is an old wooden box containing a red egg. Nick had found the egg in the attic and put it on eBay, only for it to be taken down almost immediately for breaching eBay’s policy on selling illegal items. It seems that, even in the short space of time it was advertised, someone saw it, tracked it down to Nick’s address and decided they must have it no matter what. Although Nick had no idea that owning birds’ eggs was illegal, he is afraid to admit to the police that he had one, so he and Patrick set out to find the thief themselves.

This is definitely the first book I’ve read about egg trafficking! It’s an unusual subject for a crime novel, but Bauer builds a story around it that I found completely fascinating and unexpectedly exciting. I assumed that everything in the book was fictional, so I was interested to learn that the red Metland Egg really existed – or to be more accurate, Metland Eggs, as one was collected every year for over twenty years from the same location on the Bempton Cliffs near Bridlington. Something I learned from the novel is that female guillemots lay only one egg a year and if it is stolen, they will return to the same spot the following year to lay an almost identical egg. It made me feel sad to think of the bird that laid the red eggs never actually getting to see one hatch and I’m so glad that the Protection of Birds Act 1954 made egg theft illegal in the UK – even though it hasn’t stopped it completely, it’s a big step in the right direction.

Patrick Fort, the main character in the present day sections of the novel, was apparently introduced in a previous Belinda Bauer novel, Rubbernecker, which I haven’t read. I can see why she decided to bring him back for a second book, because he’s a very engaging, intelligent and likeable character. Patrick has a form of autism which affects his social interactions, but he has a good friend in Nick, who understands why he sometimes behaves the way he does. I loved seeing them work together to hunt down the egg thieves and I must go back and read about their earlier adventures in Rubbernecker!

The historical sections are also very well done and the scenes where young Celie Sheppard is dangled over the cliff in search of the eggs are very dramatic; I can’t imagine how dangerous and terrifying that would be, yet Celie did it year after year from such an early age. At least she was rewarded financially for her efforts, at a time of poverty when her family desperately needed the money. It was interesting to see how big and well organised the egg trafficking industry was in those days, with collectors and traders prepared to go to great lengths – and great expense – to obtain the rarest and most unusual eggs.

I picked a great book for my return to Belinda Bauer after such a long time and am looking forward to reading the others that I’ve missed.

Thanks to Bantam for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.