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There's No Red House at Pooh Corner


A.A. Milne usually conjures images of childhood and the sweet innocence of a silly old bear. Just like we don’t think of our parents as young people who ever knew how to have fun, I never considered him as anything but a beloved author of children’s books. Goes to show what I know.

Before the Hundred Acre Wood, Milne was a prolific writer, with more than 18 plays and and three novels under his belt in the three years after university. He was a contributor to then assistant editor for Punch magazine. And then, as the Golden Age was just beginning, he wrote a delightful mystery story.

“The Red House Mystery” came out in 1922. What we consider tropes today were fresh and new then. This mystery is 100% of its time, complete with fantastic characters, hidden passageways, a love interest and several seemingly disparate sub-plots that all weave together beautifully at the resolution. It’s not a long read, but it’s a splendid bit of fun. I felt like I’d discovered my old friend could suddenly sing opera. Are there other unplumbed depths I’ve yet to discover? Furiously I looked, but this was his only mystery. Oh well, that makes it all the more special. I think Milne thought so, too.

The author’s introduction is either hilarious or hubris extremis. To paraphrase, his only regret in writing the book is that he doesn’t have the pleasure of reading it. What a silly old bear he was.

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