Life was such a wonderful gamble

I only contemplated one thing—a happy marriage. About that I had complete self-assurance—as all my friends did. We were conscious of all the happiness that awaited us; we looked forward to love, to being looked after, to being cherished and admired, and we intended to get our own way in the things which mattered to us while at the same time putting our husbands' life, career and success before all, as was our proud duty. We didn't need pep pills or sedatives, we had belief and joy in life. We had our own personal disappointments—moments of unhappiness‚but on the whole life was fun.

The real excitement of being a girl—of being, that is, a woman in embryo—was that life was such a wonderful gamble. You didn't know what was going to happen to you. That was what made being a woman so exciting. No worry about what you should be or do—Biology would decide. You were waiting for The Man, and when the man came, he would change your entire life! You can say what you like, that is an exciting oint of view to hold at the threshold of life. What will happen? ... "Perhaps I'll marry someone who builds bridges, or an explorer." The world was open to you—not open to your choice, but open to what Fate brought you. You might marry anyone; you might, of course, marry a drunkard or be very unhappy, but that only heightened the general feeling of excitement. And one wasn't marrying the profession, either; it was the man. In the words of old nurses, nannies, cooks an dhousemaids:

"One day Mr. Right will come along."

Agatha Christie: An Autobiography

 This was Agatha Christie's attitude through much of her life. She looked at life as an exciting gamble, even when sometimes the payoff is sadness or regret. She had a generally happy, optimistic nature that was always ready for the next adventure. Many of us could do with a little more of that quality.

What odd things one remembers out of one's life

But to go back to memories. What odd things, really, when one collects them all together, one does remember out of one's life. One remembers happy occasions, one rememvers—very vividly, I think—fear. Oddly enough, pain and unhappiness are hared to recapture. I do not mean exactly that I do not remember them—I can, but without feeling them. Where they are concerned I am in the first stage. I say, "There was Agatha being terribly unhappy. There was Agatha having a toothache." But I don't feel the unhappiness or feel the toothache. On the other hand, one day the sudden smell of lime trees brings the past back, and suddenly I remember a day spent near the lime trees, the pleasure with which I threw myself down on the ground, the smell of hot grass, and the suddenly lovely feeling of summer; a cedar tree nearby and the river beyond. ... The feeling of being at one with life. It comes back in that moment. Not only a remembered thing of the mind but the feeling itself as well.

Agatha Christie: An Autobiography

I've read this book several times, always with much pleasure at Agatha Christie's writing style and approachability in this story of her life. It takes us from her childhood in Victorian times through her writing a mystery as a way to pass the time through marriages and into relatively modern times. As you can see, she has a way of making her own thoughts and observations very relatable. It is making good bedtime reading.

A Child That is Yours and Yet is Mysteriously a Stranger

There is nothing more thrilling in this world, I think, than having a child that is yours, and yet is mysteriously a stranger. You are the gate through which it came into the world, and you will be allowed to have charge of it for a period; after that it will leave you and blossom out into its own free life, and there it is, for you to watch, living its life in freedom. It is like a strange plant which you have brought home, planted, and can hardly wait to see how it will turn out.

Agatha Christie, An Autobiography

Someone asked me recently how it felt to cooperate with God to create your child. I never thought of it like that at the time because I wasn't Catholic or even Christian. 

We have two wonderful daughters and I love seeing the way they have blossomed out into their own lives. I watch our little grandson with the same interested anticipation that I had with our girls. We are often complimented and given much credit for how they have turned out. I hardly ever know how to take that because I feel it is more a matter of simply nurturing what was there already.

As always, my favorite Agatha Christie said it perfectly in her extremely readable autobiography quoted above.

Come Tell Me How You Live - Agatha Christie

I wrote this little review a while back but since I'm rereading it and just recommended it to someone, I thought I'd better share again. It is also unexpectedly funny. I laugh out loud and read bits of it to my husband.

Come, Tell Me How You Live by Agatha Christie Mallowan

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


This engaging memoir covers Agatha Christie's time on archaeological digs with her husband, archaeologist Max Mallowan. Having just read They Came to Baghdad, I was struck by how many of the heroine's realizations of what archaeology teaches us were already familiar because they were Christie's own. Her love of the ordinary people and their lives comes through strong and clear. This is a wonderful look at the Middle East in a time gone by from a unique perspective. I can't recommend this highly enough.