Rose Page is a Cheltenham local and college lecturer in English. She has a Masters in Modern and Contemporary Literature, Culture and Thought, as well as a Bachelors in English Literature & Philosophy.

Her monthly feature, ‘Book Club Picks’, will see Rose choose two books – one classic, one modern – with suggestions on discussion points for book clubs, as well as a brief description and comparison to other publications for more relaxed readers.

Conan Doyle and Christie fans will be very familiar with the concept of the 'whodunit' – a twisting literary trail from some nefarious crime to its perpetrator, with a healthy dose of red herrings and shock reversals thrown in for good measure.

Arguably more interesting, however, are two other offshoots of the crime genre – the ‘whydunit’ and the ‘howdunit’. As our contemporary fascination with the ‘psychological thriller' continues to grow, we increasingly see a focus on emotion over procedure in popular crime.

The excitement for the reader comes not in helping a detective to track down their perpetrator, but in being given access to the dark mind of the killer and the backstory of their crimes.

This month I offer up a classic whydunit, a subgenre defined by having a perpetrator who is immediately or rapidly uncovered – perhaps even acting as narrator – but we stay on board as readers in order to understand their motivations and discover if they will ever be caught.

Ira Levin's 1950s novel 'A Kiss Before Dying' is a near perfect example. We may know Levin best for his books that were transformed into cult cinema – ‘The Stepford Wives’ and ‘Rosemary's Baby’. However, his stunning debut novel is just as cinematic in writing style.

The more recent choice, Stuart Turton's 'The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle', also bears all the hallmarks of a promising film adaptation – a highly original premise but with the zeitgeisty feel of a Black Mirror episode.

It is, however, perhaps harder to define. It bridges the gap between a complex howdunit (where a seemingly impossible murder is carried out and our protagonist is tasked with deciphering its logistics) and the classic whodunit.

Both Levin and Turton still promise the twists and the surprises expected in any investigative crime novel, but with the caveat that even the most avid crime aficionado will never have read anything quite like this before...

The Classic Choice: ‘A Kiss Before Dying’ – Ira Levin, 1953

You'll like this if: You want to read the forerunner to the influx of psychological thrillers currently topping the charts ('The Girl on the Train' et al.)

It bears a similarity in style to the dark, paranoid fiction of Peter Swanson, where murder becomes almost a banal chore for the perpetrators. Levin allows a similar insight into his killer's mind that we see in contemporary texts such as Alice Feeney's 'Sometimes I Lie' or Liz Nugent’s 'Unravelling Oliver'. Fans of BBCs Luther might also enjoy the formula of an early revelation of the killer and the subsequent quest to prove his guilt.

What's it about?: Chelsea Cain, in her foreword, explains the magic of Levin’s books is that the premise can always be explained in 5 words or fewer. Her pithy summary for 'A Kiss Before Dying' reads simply: “Worst. Boyfriend. Ever.”

Divided into three sections, the book follows our villainous protagonist as he attempts to seduce three sisters in turn in order to inherit their father's copper fortune. Thriving on power and control, he crafts several alter egos so as to appear the perfect match for each of them, while all the while plotting to grasp their inheritances.

The first, and youngest, Dorothy Kingship, lends her name to the initial section. Hopelessly besotted with her college boyfriend, she cannot wait to tell him she will be having their baby. He, however, is less beguiled by the idea. Her truly grisly end sets a precedent for the macabre series of murders that follows.

Discussion Questions:

• Corliss explains that the defining moment of his life was when he served in the Pacific and killed a Japanese sniper who had begged him for mercy. Why was he so disgusted by this man? What does this incident tell us about his character?

• Did you find the bridge between the first section (Dorothy) and the second section (Ellen) satisfying? Or has your reading of more contemporary novels allowed you to somewhat predict this twist?

• Ellen turns 'detective' on her sister's death- not very successfully. To what extent do you think Levin is parodying the traditional 'whodunit' in this section?

• Some of the deaths in the novel are particularly gritty- almost medieval in their barbarity. Did you view them as excessive? Almost comedic? Or perhaps even as karmic justice?

• Themes of naivety and gullibility run throughout the novel. To what extent so you think our killer blames his own victims for their fate?

• Newspaper articles are peppered throughout the narrative- what effect does this have on you as reader? Did you find it added realism - or disrupted the flow of the plot?

• Several reviewers have suggested that if the novel had been written now it would seem far from original, maybe even predictable. How did you approach it as a contemporary reader?

The Modern Choice: The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle – Stuart Turton, 2018

You’ll like this if: You enjoy intense first-person narratives where we learn alongside the fallible narrator (Mark Haddon’s 'Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time' comes to mind).

Fans of classic Christie might enjoy the claustrophobic feel of a murder within a closed community – echoes of 'And Then There Were None' abound throughout the novel, especially in its exploration of guilt and the relationship between past and present.

There is also a Dystopic element to the plot, while viewers of Charlie Brooker's 'Black Mirror' will be at pains to point out comparisons to the treatment of justice and punishment in episodes such as 'White Bear' or 'Black Museum'.

What’s it about?: As with Levin's novel, it is somewhat difficult to sum up while avoiding spoilers! What begins as a traditional linear narrative – a murder has (or *will*) been committed in a grand country house full of guests and our narrator is on a quest to solve it before time runs out – dissolves into a complex 'groundhog day' plot.

After that first chapter, we realise that our narrator wakes up each subsequent morning to relive the same day, but as a different character. From the house’s butler to an ageing, overweight suitor of Evelyn herself, he finds himself transported into different bodies each time he falls asleep, able to investigate from different angles but equally terrified that time is running out.

To add another layer of complexity, we discover the house, Blackheath, is in fact a prison and this is some sadistic form of punishment. He must find the killer or be forced to begin again, and again, and again from scratch.

Discussion Questions:

• Amnesia is perhaps a rather overused trope in the modern thriller- but how is it used innovatively here? What significance does memory play in the novel?

• Turton has said he was influenced by board games in writing the novel. Chess is certainly a symbol in the text (from Aidan's surname to the chess pieces he and Anna keep hold of) and we could interpret Blackheath as a giant Cluedo board. Are there any other games that come to mind? Why is game playing so important in the novel?

• There is an atemporal feel to the novel- while Blackheath seems to belong to a past age, the concept of this 'prison' seems futuristic. When do you imagine it is set? Is this a nightmarish vision of the future?

• Aiden seems to take on more and more of his hosts' personality traits as the novel progresses. Do we really know who he is or have any sense of his character beyond Blackheath?

• In the US, the novel was published under the title 'The 7 ½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle’. Where is the half death? Or is it 7 half deaths? Is this a better title?

• As well as Aidan and Anna, each host has a clear vice – be it drugs, lust, money or arrogance. How do these vices act as their Hamartia (fatal flaw)? Did you interpret these depictions as Turton presenting a sympathetic or condemnatory view of humankind?