The "Meta" Mystery that is Moonflower Murders

Now that we belatedly got over an irrational prejudice against streaming and finally subscribed to Netflix—and then variously to a combination of Acorn, BritBox, AppleTV, etc.—we almost never turn on the TV to watch regular network or cable programs. Our ancient TV comes on once a year so that we can (pretend to) watch a long enough portion of that year’s Super Bowl game to allow us to consume our annual Super Bowl feast of junk-food-for-dinner, but that’s about it.

But on Sunday, September 15, I found myself setting an alarm on my phone so that I wouldn’t accidentally miss the PBS premier of Moonflower Murders starring Leslie Manville. Subsequent episodes were slated to be released every Sunday for a total of six episodes/weeks, but I’m afraid I wasn’t able to remain patient enough for that! We took advantage of our PBS subscription (which we started in order to stream The Mountain Detective) and binged the remaining 5 episodes over the last week. Still, I have to say that I (maybe not my husband so much…) enjoyed the frisson of anticipation of waiting for 8pm Central Time on that premier Sunday night to tune in to 48 minutes of regularly scheduled programming on TV!

I’m a huge fan of Anthony Horowitz—he of the Foyle’s War fame, a show which I adore and wrote about previously—and was delighted with the clever meta-mystery of the first Susan Ryeland entry in Magpie Murders (series in 2022, adapted from the 2016 novel), also with Leslie Manville and Tim McMullan. How does the second in the series—the 2024 adaptation of the 2020 novel—stack up?

First, here’s a 2-minute trailer if you don’t know the show I’m talking about but are curious about it now:

Have I mentioned the “meta” angle of this mystery series?

I find that students either love or hate—with a passion!—“meta” elements of literature where characters and authors break that “fourth wall” and address aspects of residing within or composing a work of (meta)fiction or (meta)drama. Some readers of John Fowles’s French Lieutenant’s Woman bemoan that they’d rather just have the Victorian story instead of having to contend with the annoying 20th century author-narrator butting in all the time and who won’t let us forget that his story is indeed a work of fiction. When I teach Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, a few invariably complain about so much (actual!) Shakespeare dialogue in a play from 1966.

I’d be curious about how they would react to Anthony Horowitz’s Susan Ryeland series. Is there just too much cleverness in all this nesting of mysteries and the winking at the audience about readerly expectations—and frustrations—when they are confronted with cliffhanging revelations at the end of a chapter that do not get immediately addressed? When we can clearly spot resemblances between “real” and “fictional” figures, can we resist one-to-one correlations?

Or simply: What can be gained—in themes, analyses, entertainment?—by weaving together the mystery-within-a-mystery storyline of Atticus Pünd Takes the Case by “fictional” author Alan Conway with just the plain mystery of retired literary editor-cum-amateur detective Susan Ryeland investigating the disappearance of a young woman named Cecily Treherne in “real” author Anthony Horowitz’s Moonflower Murders?

However, since only two episodes have been released on PBS’s regularly scheduled programming, we might have to postpone further discussion on this topic for now.

I will just end by saying that I would LOVE to be offered £10,000 to stay in a beautiful hotel and read a book!