Having been in Japan during a celebration of Agatha Christie that made clear the vast and serious esteem in which she was held there, and having visited the Bibliothèque des Littératures Policières in Paris where I was shown a rare early edition of Le Meurtre de Roger Ackroyd as one of the treasures of the collection, and having recently revisited a dozen or so of her best novels, I feel confident that Christie's work will endure for its very real literary qualities, even if Wilson might never have recognized them as such.
His argument for the essential worthlessness of the genre becomes an indictment of its devotees.
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