The Spring Cleaning Murders
by Dorothy Cannell
2 stars
Ellie Haskell is cleaning house. It’s time for her annual spring cleaning, and she’s having a grand time of it – until one of the members of the C.F.C.W.A. (the Chitterton Fells Charwomen’s Association) dies unexpectedly. Soon Ellie is “swept into”, nuk nuk, the mystery.
Cozy mysteries are a strange beast. The author has to insert murder into mundane lives, lighten it up with humor without being flippant, and be sweet without being saccharine. I’ve read many, and although there is much gloss, there are gems which deliver a clever little mystery with well-rounded characters and a peek into another place. I’d say this one misses the mark on all counts. The plot line is stretched, to say the least, especially if you stick it to the end and find out the solution. Funny? Sure, if you enjoy 200 pages of puns about cleaning. Location? Timing? It’s Generic Hall in the town of Unincorporated, in the year Nineteen-Something-or-Other. This is England, yes, it says so on the cover and everyone says things like “Mummy” and drinks tea and all that rot. Take away the token actions and I’d be hard pressed to tell you where things were going on. Same with the timing. It’s an awkward mash-up of 1950′s English cozy and modern chick-lit, leaving you with a strange collection of female characters who like to keep the house nice for their husbands and wonder at that woman who is going after her career instead of a family.
<i>The Spring Cleaning Murders</i> is simply grating. From the ridiculous plot to the obnoxious dialogue, this book got on my nerves. It began well, but it built up a collection of small annoyances until I was ready to chuck it out the window. Such as…
The children. I’ve seen quite a few children grow up, yet none reached adulthood so quickly as Ellie’s unbelievably precocious three-year-old twins. They speak in full sentences, occasionally lapsing into twee malapropisms. “Jonas, I don’t want you to go to that place where the dead people live…’Least not till you’re two hundred. You’ve got to show me more stuff that Mummy and even Daddy don’t know. Like how to put the wheels back on my train when it gets broke,” says the little boy. If a three-year old kid spit out that mouthful to me, I’d buy him some ice cream. Not only that, but they’re quite independent little tykes – one of them even manages to walk most of the way home from a stranger’s house. What a gift for direction!
Strange little jabs at women. It’s not that the book is overtly sexist – contrary to some modes of thought, a woman who stays home to be a homemaker isn’t by definition repressed. Yet some statements are just confusing in what gets assigned to women versus men. For example,
I tried to strike the right note between sympathy and an attempt at raising her spirits. “You’ve both been through a lot, haven’t you?”
“My sister is tremendously strong. Of course she’s gone through the change and they say the male hormones kick in at that time. But she’s always been a rock.” Madrid started to heave herself up, thought better of the idea, and sank back against her cushions.
Granted, this is an older woman, so perhaps Cannell was trying to create a character who was still stuck in the 1950′s. It’s still an odd phrasing to have in a book which apparently takes place in modern times.
Strange little jabs at vegetarians. Apparently they are hypocritical individuals who will picket just about anything. It’s really quite alarming. They’re even trying to shut down a small, locally-owned restaurant because they serve meat there.
While not being a terrible book by any standards, it certainly isn’t one to rush out and buy.
If you’re looking for a good cozy, why not try the Aunt Dimity series by Laurie Atherton?


