Machetes! Voodoo! Angela Lansbury!
Today we’re recapping an episode of Murder, She Wrote that takes place in New Orleans. It’s the
kick-off to the Mardi Gras Week mini-event, as well as an excuse to watch one
of the greatest mystery shows of all time. Not that you need an excuse. And
also not that this is one of the best episodes, in fact there’s a good chance
that this is the worst episode…
I’m really not sure how a modern person can get through life
without a cursory knowledge of Murder,
She Wrote, but in case you have, I’ll help you out:
Jessica Fletcher, played by aspirational figure Angela
Lansbury, was a high school English teacher for many years, until her husband
Frank passed away and she retired. Between widowhood and her abundant spare
time, she decided she needed a distraction, so she wrote a novel called “The
Corpse Danced at Midnight.” Her idiot
nephew Grady sent it to a publisher without asking her permission, and it sold,
and was published, and kept selling, and now Jessica – or J.B. Fletcher – is an
international literary sensation. Agatha Christie 2.0.
In between writing books and tending her little garden in
Cabot Cove, Jessica solves 263 murders (actual statistic). Murder surrounds her,
for some reason. It was as if when she wrote that first book, she awoke the
slumbering Phonoi, Greek spirits of violent death, and drew their wrathful gaze
upon people she met at book signings.
