64 pages • 2 hours read
Anthony HorowitzA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Moonflower Murders uses the motif of cars in to reveal the traits and motivations of the characters who drive them. For instance, as soon as Susan Ryeland returns to London, she retrieves her MGB roadster from storage, which is significant on several levels. The classic convertible car is quintessentially British, echoing the locations she navigates during her investigation and signifying her eagerness to immerse herself in England after her time away in Greece. Meanwhile, the sporty style of the MGB and its bright red color reflect Susan’s independent spirit and sense of adventure. Susan has paid to keep the MGB in storage rather than selling it, suggesting her uncertainty about giving up her English life to move to Crete. Susan’s reunion with her car reminds her of her former identity as a single professional woman and renews her sense of agency. Meanwhile, Aiden MacNeil’s Range Rover is an identity statement that demonstrates his desire to be perceived as wealthy. This car is a status symbol typically associated with the British upper classes, and his vehicle is an indicator of the value Aiden places on the wealth and social status he acquired when he married Cecily Treherne. Fittingly, when that status is threatened, he uses the Range Rover’s trunk to dispose of his wife’s body.
Cars are also used to enhance characterization in Atticus Pünd Takes the Case. Melissa James’s pale blue Bentley convertible reflects her egocentricity. She enjoys driving her distinctive luxury car with the top down, as she enjoys being recognized and admired. This adds to her already significant “sense of empowerment” (255). Algernon Marsh’s cream Peugeot represents his vanity. Algernon likes that his French car—with its right-hand drive—stands out in England, making him immediately recognizable. Algernon’s character traits are further illuminated by his attitude toward driving. He is involved in a hit-and-run while disqualified from driving and intoxicated, which illustrates his recklessness and irresponsibility. In a moment of insight, DCI Hare says that Algernon conducts his entire life “with the mentality of a hit-and-run driver,” displaying “no sense of shame, no morality” (424). Ironically, the distinctive nature of Algernon’s car has a part in his downfall as he is arrested for the crime after being spotted by a witness. Dr. Collins’s battered Morris Minor serves as a contrast to Melissa and Algernon’s flashy vehicles. Initially, the car suggests that the doctor prioritizes serving his community over material possessions. However, in reality, the car’s state is a sign of Lionel Collins’s financial struggles.
The recurrence of nighttime imagery in the novel symbolizes the dark side of human nature, most clearly evidenced by the act of murder. The presence of nocturnal symbolism throughout the narrative emphasizes that this aspect of human nature exists even in the most picturesque of settings.
Cecily Treherne is responsible for choosing the moonflower and barn owl emblems that are integral to Branlow Hall’s brand identity. The hotel’s association with entities that come out at night gives it a Gothic aspect, which is underlined by Frank Parris’s murder and Cecily’s mysterious disappearance. This symbolism extends into the narrative of Atticus Pünd Takes the Case, where the hotel is named the Moonflower. Atticus Pünd’s discovery of a peephole behind the picture of the Moonflower at Clarence Keep links the image with secretive and illicit acts. The ominous mood of the chapter titled “Darkness Falls” also heavily emphasizes nocturnal imagery. As night approaches and the light fades, Atticus Pünd becomes convinced there is “an evil presence in Tawleigh-on-the-Water” (392). Standing in the darkness, Pünd notes that “[t]he moon had risen […] but somehow the soft wash of the light only made the little harbour town seem all the darker” (372). This is one of several references in the novel where the moon is presented as capable of only faintly illuminating the darkness. The figurative description of the moon as “a single eye, watching from the other side of the world” presents it as a distant and impotent witness to the darkness of men’s deeds (391).
The novel uses the motif of homes and hotels to echo the characters’ traits, values, and economic status. Melissa James’s house, Clarence Keep, underlines her egocentricity as it is filled with mementos of films she has starred in. Her husband’s identity is absent in its furnishings, reflecting the power imbalance in their relationship. Melissa’s disinterest in how her actions impact others is emphasized in Clarence Keep’s origins, as it was built for the governor of Jamaica in the era of the slave trade. Conversely, Samantha Collins’s home, Church Lodge, situated next to St. Daniel’s church, symbolizes her strong sense of Christian morality. The “handsome, old building in need of a fresh coat of paint” also reveals clues about the economic circumstances of the Collins family (268), suggesting they lack sufficient funds to maintain the property. This sign of financial strain hints at Leonard Collins’s motive for murdering Melissa James. Another home that reflects the identity of its inhabitants is Three Chimneys, Susan’s sister Katie’s home. It offers a clue to the psychological turmoil Katie is attempting to conceal. While Three Chimneys is largely immaculate, a dead shrub in the center of the garden strikes a dissonant note. This illustrates that Katie’s attempts to maintain her veneer of domestic happiness are ultimately unsustainable.
Horowitz employs the motif of contrasting hotels to underscore Susan Ryeland’s internal conflict over her life in England and Greece. The Polydorus in Crete, with its basic facilities but stunning views of the Aegean sunset, represents a simple, barebones lifestyle in tune with the Greek island’s “wild and empty” landscape (23). In contrast, her stay at Branlow Hall, a quintessentially English country house hotel, offers old-world charm combined with the perks of modern conveniences. While Branlow Hall initially appears to be the more seductive option, its veneer of civilized luxury fades as Susan uncovers the dark motivations of its inhabitants. Her decision to return to the chaotic conviviality of the Polydorus indicates her prioritization of more authentic values.
By Anthony Horowitz