Death in Ecstasy

By Ngaio Marsh

Another classic Ngaio Marsh novel.

Who slipped cyanide into the ceremonial wine of ecstasy at the House of the Sacred Flame? The other initiates and the High Priest claim to be above earthly passions. But Roderick Alleyn discovers that the victim had provoked lust and jealousy, and he suspects that more evil still lurks behind the Sign of the Sacred Flame…

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins UK
• Release date: Sep 3, 2009
• ISBN: 9780007344437

Ngaio Marsh

Dame Ngaio Marsh was born in New Zealand in 1895 and died in February 1982. She wrote over 30 detective novels and many of her stories have theatrical settings, for Ngaio Marsh’s real passion was the theatre. She was both an actress and producer and almost single-handedly revived the New Zealand public’s interest in the theatre. It was for this work that the received what she called her ‘damery’ in 1966.

Reviews for Death in Ecstasy

[vivl_6 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Not quite a classic, but very enjoyable and well-written. It seemed at the start as though the characters were going to be too stereotypic for me to cope with, but they were broadened out satisfactorily. I figured out who must have "dunnit" reasonably early on, but whether that's because some memory of previous read-throughs is lurking in my brain I'm not sure.

[figgles_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

An early Alleyn. Alleyn's friend, journalist Nigel Bathgate, attends (out of curiosity) the service of a pantheistic cult. At the height of the ritual one of the initiates dies horribly and Alleyn is called in to investigate. Although outwardly dated in style the book's themes of sex, drugs and money dressed up as weird religion are universal. First hint of Ngaio's apparent revulsion to homosexual men shown in the characters of the two delicate acolytes. Interesting read.

[anthonywillard · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Ngaio Marsh is one of my favorite mystery authors, but Death in Ecstasy fell sort of flat for me. The plot is way too vague to prevent the story line from getting monotonous. The detection consists of a long series of inconclusive interviews with the several suspects, all of whom are introduced at the outset. When everyone has been interviewed, then it is time to go back and interview everyone again, getting little or nothing more out of them, so that at the end, the evidence could be plausibly built into a case against any of them, and the solution is only reached through a couple of deus ex machina tricks that occur in the final few pages. Failed plotting. Fun characterization, though grossly prejudiced against various minorities, including Americans. The Nigel Bathgate character, awkward in previous novels of the series, becomes completely implausible in this one, but begins to play more of a second fiddle role. Alleyn, by this episode firmly established as the series detective, still has some maturing to do. He is cranky, whines a lot, and his snobbish humor is frequently sarcastic and screechy. If you haven't read the other Ngaio Marsh novels already, pick a different one. This, and Tied Up in Tinsel, should be reserved for the day when you become a Marsh completist.

[mmyoung_1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

A intriguing opening scene is followed by a pedestrian paint-it-by-numbers investigation that stretches the incredulity of this reader. The obvious person did it -- we spend page after page going down the side alleys of homophobia and anti-drug screeds with a side dish of the rubbishing of any non mainstream (for the Britain of the time) religion.

[musicmom41 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

On a whim, Roderick Alleyn’s friend, the journalist Nigel Bathgate, braves a howling storm to gate-crash a cultish ceremony at the House of the Sacred Flame, whose sign he has been watching from the window of his flat. There he witnesses a bizarre ceremony which ends in an unexpected death. Rather than calling the Yard, he immediately calls his friend Alleyn and the game is afoot! (Of course, Chief Detective Inspector Alleyn calls the Yard for his crew before he leaves the comfort of his fireside and book to go out into that storm!)In this fourth book of the series, Marsh is starting to hit her stride as a major player in the Golden Age of detective writers. Her detective is becoming more of a personality by his actions and what he says, rather than by author description, and Bathgate makes a better foil for him than Hastings does for Poirot. At one point, Alleyn refers to Bathgate as his “Watson.” The characters created for this novel are somewhat bizarre but easily distinguishable. Marsh, also seems to be more comfortable with her work now. The following conversation between Alleyn and Bathgate occurs at almost exactly the halfway point in the book:“Look here,” said Nigel suddenly, “let’s pretend it’s a detective novel. Where would we by by this time? About halfway through, I should think. Well, who’s your pick.”“I’m invariably gulled by detective novels. No herring so red but I raise my voice and give chase.”“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Nigel.“Fact. You see in real detection herrings are so often out of season.”“Well, never mind, who’s your pick?”“It depends on the author. If it’s Agatha Christie, Miss Wade’s occulted guilt drips from every page. Dorothy Sayers’s Lord Peter would plump for Pringle, I fancy. Inspector French would go for Ogden. Of course, Ogden, on the face of it, is the first suspect.” I suspect that she’s hinting that Roderick Alleyn is in the mold of the brilliant Scotland Yard detective invented by Freeman Wills Crofts a decade or so before Alleyn’s first appearance. If you enjoy Golden Age mysteries, I recommend this one. 3 ½ stars