Hercule Poirot, the obsessively neat Belgian detective, appeared in Agatha Christie’s first detective novel, The Mysterious Affair at Styles in 1920. He became so popular that when his last case, Curtain, was published in 1975, The New York Times gave him an obituary. Poirot, along with Art Deco architecture, jazz and bodies in the library, is an inseparable part of the popular image of Agatha Christie’s work.
Hercule Poirot first appears as a slightly mysterious figure at the country house Styles; he has a reputation from his time in the Belgian detective police, but part from that little of his past history is ever made clear. In real life Agatha Christie may have been inspired to create the character from meeting Belgian refugees in England during the First World War, fleeing from the German invasion of their country. Certainly The Mysterious Affair at Styles contains complimentary references to the brave “Belgies”. Poirot continually has to correct those who mistakenly take him for a Frenchman.
Sartorial precision is one of Poirot’s ruling obsessions. His moustache is always neatly waxed, his sleeves free of specks of dust, and he is constantly on his guard against damage to his patent leather shoes, much to the amusement of his bluff English sidekick Captain Hastings. This obsession with neatness mirrors the Belgian detective’s theories that “order and method” are the only ways to approach solving crime. Conveniently for him, bringing the “little grey cells” of the brain to bear on a problem does not requires lots of dashing about and kneeling in the dirt, with the incumbent risks to one’s clothing. The concern for his appearance is also a symptom for Poirot’s monstrous self-conceit, or his justified opinion of his own extraordinary abilities, depending on whose judgment one relies upon. He is proud of declaring himself to be the one and only Hercule Poirot.
Poirot’s brilliance is thrown into dazzling relief by the presence of his faithful friend, the very English Captain Hastings. Hastings continually veers between irritation at the Belgian detective’s vanity, and awe at his crime-solving flair. The Captain, though a bachelor, has a susceptibility to female charms, particularly those of red-heads, for which Poirot often finds occasion to mock him. The other foil to Poirot’s talents is Inspector Japp of Scotland Yard, a reliable but hapless policeman whose methods never manage to solve a case before Poirot, much to the Inspector’s chagrin.
Though criticized as an unrealistic, and two-dimensional character by some, Hercule Poirot has been n enduring figure in twentieth century detective fiction. His lifespan has been extended by several films and television portrayals, notably by David Suchet, and his insistence on “the little grey cells” has entered the lexicon of crime fiction.