The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag: A Flavia de Luce Novel

I was first introduced to Flavia de Luce in her fourth adventure,  I Am Half-Sick of Shadows: A Flavia de Luce Novel . It was such a great read, that I bought the first three in the series."The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag" is the second book in the series and the third Flavia mystery I've read, and it is just as fabulous as the first two. What a precocious 11-year old Flavia is! Able to lie with both hands tied behind her back but with a heart as full and accepting as can be.Flavia's first love is chemistry, and I love her concoctions and way of looking at life through the prism of chemical science. For example, Flavia is entering Gibbet Wood, a forest of "ancient oaks and lichen-coated hornbeams". Flavia muses with pleasure on the natural processes evolving around her: "I drew in a deep breath, sucking the sour tang into my lungs and savoring the chemical smell of decay.... But this was no time for pleasant reflections."Other reviewers have fully covered the plot of "The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag". It's 1950, and Rupert Porson, a puppeteer famous for his BBC television show, shows up in Bishop's Lacy, Flavia's home town (well, home village, and she actually lives outside of town in the huge and decaying Buckshaw Manor"). He's roped into giving two shows at the church hall, and tragedy occurs at the second show.But wait, could this be connected to the death of five year-old Robin Inglby five years before? Flavia, with her irrepressible curiosity and willingness to pick locks is determined to find out.This is a series with tons of humor. I was reading "The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag" in a Starbucks, and startling the people around me as I burst out in giggles.But like all really good stories, there are serious themes, too. In "The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag", it is brought home to me how negligent Flavia's father is in one important way. Flavia's mother died when she was two, so she has little memory of her. Flavia's older sisters torment her with stories that their mother never loved Flavia. Why doesn't Flavia know this is a lie from her father? Because he is uncommunicative and wrapped up, after all this time, in his own grief. This recurring theme of the books rather breaks my heart.But then, in "The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag", the Dreaded Aunt Felicity (sister of Father), takes Flavia aside, and in a totally unexpected kindness, assures Flavia that she is the spitting image of her mother, not just physically, but in curiosity and love of chemistry and determination to follow something through. After this wonderful revelation, Aunt Felicity adds: 'If you remember nothing else, remember this: Inspiration from outside one's self is like the heat in an oven. It makes passible Bath buns. But inspiration from WITHIN is like a volcano: It changes the face of the world.'[Flavia thinks:] I wanted to throw my arms around this dotty old bat in her George Bernard Shaw costume and hug her until the juices ran out. But I didn't. I couldn't.I was a de Luce.'Thank you, Aunt Felicity,' I said, scrambling to my feet. 'You're a brick.' "Highly recommended book in a highly recommended series.Happy Reader

This is the second book about eleven year old Flavia De Luce, who was first introduced in "The Sweetness At The Bottom Of The Pie", where she put her considerable talents to work in solving a murder her father had been accused of.In this installment, Flavia becomes involved with a traveling puppeteer who has a show on the BBC, a shocking murder and ripples from the death of young boy, alone in the woods.It's a decent mystery in it's own right, steeped in the atmosphere of rural England after the Second World War, but what makes it exceptional is Flavia De Luce herself.She is a wonderfully wrought character: dauntless, clever, manipulative, and eccentric in the great English aristo tradition. She is fascinated by and skilled in making poisons. She knows how to get people to tell things they would never otherwise reveal and she is relentless in her quest to find out who did what and why.All this makes her rather intimidating. Flavia knows this of course. At one point, when she shows too much insight into the affairs of a young woman she is helping, the young woman points it out to her: “You are terrifying,” Nialla said. “You really are. Do you know that?” We were sitting on a slab tomb in the churchyard as I waited for the sun to dry my feverish face. Nialla put away her lipstick and rummaged in her bag for a comb. “Yes,” I said, matter-of-factly. It was true—and there was no use denying it.'During the denouement, Flavia reveals a crucial piece of information to the Detective Inspector debriefing her. When he turns to his team, demanding to know why they didn't know this, the response is: "With respect, sir." Sergeant Woolmer ventured, "it could be because we're not Miss De LuceFor all her ferocious intellect and startling preciosity, she is still an eleven year old girl. She is observant enough to uncover and affair but innocent enough not to be entirely sure exactly what is involved in such an undertaking.She is also a lonely girl without enough love in her life. Her elder sisters treat her badly. Her father is distant, repressed and as obsessed with stamps as Falvia is with poisons. Her mother is dead and her only connection to her is to sit in the Rolls she owned or to ride the bike she used, which she has rechristened Gladys and sometimes treats as if it were sentient.Flavia is not a girl who is trying to be older. Above all she seems to be trying just to be herself which she does with great self-assurance. When she turns up late (again) and her father describes her as "Utterly unreliable:" she thinks to herself Of course I was! It was one of the things I loved most about myself. Eleven-year-olds are supposed to be unreliable.Flavia knows that she is willing to overstep the bounds of politeness and perhaps even decency, to get the infomation she wants but she's reconciled to that aspect of herself. She says: Sometimes I hated myself. But not for long.This was a delightful read and a pleasing sequel. I will be back for more.

I love, LOVE Flavia de Luce, the eleven-year-old, chemistry-obsessed heroine of Alan Bradley's mysteries. In this second mystery, a traveling puppet show shows up at the church where Flavia is playing at being dead -- or so we hope. Rupert plays Snoddy the Squirrel on the BBC and he and his assistant, Nialla, also run this traveling show. Their van gives out in the church yard; Rupert and Nialla camp there until invited to damp in a field by neighboring farmers, Gordon and Grace Inglesby. Many years earlier, their five-year-old son, Robin, was found hanging in the Gibbet Wood. This tragedy has deeply affected Grace. When Flavia isn't being fascinated by the traveling duo, she's busy making potions in her lab to bedevil her evil older sisters.The obligatory murder (for a mystery series) doesn't occur until 33% into the book, so the beginning moved pretty slowly for me. Rupert is electrocuted during a performance of the puppet show and of course, his murder obsesses Flavia. Did "Mad Meg" - the woman who lives in Gibbet Wood - kill him? Did Gordon or Grace kill him? Or was Nialla or the vicar's wife? And does Rupert or the farm assistant/German ex prisoner-of-war have something to do w/ Robin's death? Was Robin's death not an accident after all?The tying of the two deaths together really complicated the plot for me, but I really LOVED why Gordon, the vicar, and Rupert visited one another in the woods. I don't want to spoil it for you, but I did really enjoy a bit of herb growing in the wood being used to treat Rupert's leg pain. I only gave this outing w/ Flavia four stars b/c the book started so slowly and the plot got really complicated.But I really LOVE all the chemistry and the joke w/ the chocolates pulled on the oldest sister.

In The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag, the second Flavia de Luce mystery, Alan Bradley has come up with another book that I desperately didn't want to finish - young Flavia is so refreshingly acerbic about everyone around her, yet at the same time beset with private fears. Was she, as her sisters claim, responsible for her mother's death? She's had to develop a tough exterior to protect her against such accusations, and some readers have complained that the apparent malice between the sisters is unconvincing or unpleasant, but Flavia comes from a more buttoned-up era when it was quite usual for all sorts of resentments to fester beneath the surface (actually, a good deal of festering still goes on, viz. any agony aunt's advice about the dangers of family get-togethers like Christmas, but these days we are encouraged to express our feelings more openly, which may or may not be a good thing). Domestic tensions aren't helped by a father who is largely disengaged, a family retainer with a tenuous hold on mental health and a Wodehousian aunt. Add a rather nasty suspicious death, a policeman who's keen to discourage amateur interference and some dodgy substances, and you have a recipe for a classic crime story.The precocious Flavia's voice carries the action deliciously - Bradley so evidently adores his young heroine, and his writing resonates with the atmosphere of a bygone England. I suspect Bradley might have spent the odd happy hour, himself, absorbing the acid delights of Nancy Mitford, because I detect in Flavia and her sisters a blood-tie with the young Radletts, while their ex-army Father is clearly an admirer of Lord Alconleigh. Inspector Hewitt, on the other hand, might have emerged from the pages of Georgette Heyer or Marjory Allingham, and is a worthy adversary for Flavia - he'd be an evener worthier ally, if only he could see it, because he infuriates Flavia by thwarting her attempts to help, thereby forcing her to embark on her own investigations, which she pursues with dogged determination and considerable deviousness. She is pure joy.

I enjoy this series a lot, and this latest instalment didn't disappoint. Flavia is a mecurial and naive as ever, and the mystery is satisfying. I did find myself wanting the relationships between Flavia and her sisters and father to grow and evolve, whereas the author keeps them unchanged, despite events that surely should bring them together. But overall very enjoyable.

I liked The Week That Strings the Hangman's Bag more than book 1 of the series (even though I also gave that one 4 stars). This has such a classic "whodunnit" structure and that gives Flavia space to be herself and indulge in some wonderfully underhand investigation tactics (all while dreaming about poisons).If you enjoy classic mysteries/whodunnits and haven't checked out this series yet, you really must. You don't need to start at book 1 (I started at book 4 without realising) but, of course, you get to enjoy Flavia's developing character and knowledge more if you follow the books in the order they were written.

Enjoyed the first book and the second is equally amusing. The things an 11 year old can get away with are taken full advantage of. An unexpected hero, ridiculously clever and set pre mobile phone, pre modern bureaucracy.

Flavia de Luce, the eleven year old sleuth comes to the rescue again in book number two in the tale of murder. When a travelling puppeteer lands in bishops Lacey, Flavia is right there to offer her assistance when their transportation breaks down. She always manages to worm the information out of the locals better than than the local police to solve another mystery. I bought this immediately after reading The sweetness at the bottom of the pie as Flavia is entertaining, witty and brings me back to the days when I thought was Nancy Drew!