The Cruelest Month

“You can name the threat. We all know what to expect in other seasons. But not spring. The worst flooding happens in spring. Forest fires, killing frosts, snowstorms and mudslides. Nature’s in turmoil. Anything can happen.”

Ruth identifies the disruptive elements of spring, reminding the other villagers that the rebirth and awakening of spring are accompanied by chaos. This perspective on spring is a motif that operates throughout the novel. It serves to remind the reader to look beyond the stereotypical representations of spring, another way in which Penny reminds the reader to consider unconventional perspectives.

“Tears came to his eyes as he was overcome by this wraith that had threatened all his life. That he’d hidden from as a child, that he’d run from and buried and denied. It had stalked him and finally found him. Here, in his beloved wife’s studio. Standing in front of this creation of hers the terrible monster had found him. And devoured him.”

Peter is viewing Clara’s painting, and the monster that finally devours him is jealousy. This plot thread of Peter’s jealousy of Clara is another way that Penny explores Love and Attachment. Although Peter appears to love Clara, in truth, it is attachment—if it was love, he would support her success, instead of subtly working to undermine it.

“Peter Morrow knew the old Hadley house was wicked. It stole things. Like lives. And friends. Souls and faith. It had stolen his best friend, Ben Hadley. And the monstrosity on the hill gave back only sorrow.”

Peter, like many of the others, had traumatic experiences in the Hadley house. Also like the others, he has personified the house, blaming it for everything that has happened inside. This personification of the house is a typical convention of a haunted-house story and allows the characters to compartmentalize the trauma they experienced in the previous novels of the series until they come to accept their experiences, as they do at the end of this novel.

“One day that ego of yours’ll kill you. That’s all it is, you know. You pretend its selfless, you pretend to be the great teacher, the wise and patient Armand Gamache, but you and I both know it’s ego. Pride. Be careful, my friend. She’s dangerous. You’ve said so yourself.”

Brébeuf is admonishing Gamache for his decision to put Nichol on his team. He accuses Gamache of pride, but one of Gamache’s most prevalent characteristics is his lack of ego—it is what makes him so good at his job. Brébeuf is so jealous that he accuses Gamache of things that he knows, being the man’s closest friend, are not true. Brébeuf displays attachment the same way Peter does with Clara, belittling him with jealousy.

“But had everyone really let go of all their bitter thoughts? Was it possible someone was holding on to theirs, hoarding them? Devouring them, swallowing them until they were bloated with bitterness and had become a walking, breathing version of the house on the hill? Was there a human version of that wretched place, walking among them?”

When Gamache questions her, Clara wonders if she truly believes, as some of the others seem to, that the house itself killed Madeleine. She then takes that thought one step further and wonders who among them could possess the same evil as the house. This is the first time that the text draws a parallel between the house and the murderer, personifying evil, and it is a thought that Gamache will also have later on in the novel.

“Gamache knew it was the only way he could find a murderer. He listened to people, took notes, gathered evidence, like all his colleagues. But he did one more thing. He gathered feelings. He collected emotions. Because murder was deeply human.”

Although he is with the Sûreté, Gamache does not fit the police-procedural mystery genre, which focuses on the technical aspects of an investigation. Instead, Gamache behaves more like a gifted amateur detective in a whodunit, a subgenre of the mystery genre. He focuses on the people involved, including the victim, and pays close attention to their emotional lives, which allows Penny to explore human tropes like belonging and love through him.

“She was at home. Lacoste suddenly wanted to take Clara’s hand. Her home was here. In this loft. But it was also with these women.”

Lacoste is experiencing the sense of belonging that many people feel in Three Pines. Penny creates a magical village in which certain people feel safe and welcomed. In this scene, she acknowledges that this effect is not just about the village but also about its residents.

“He tried not to lie to suspects. Not because he was a moral or ethical man, but because he knew if found out it weakened his position. And Chief Inspector Gamache would never do that. Not for something as foolish as a lie.”

Although Gamache is thoughtful and unassuming, he makes it clear at several points in the text that he is not soft or stupid. In this quote, the reader sees a different side of Gamache than the one he shows to the public. He is, in fact, sharp and aware of the dynamic between investigator and suspect, so the reader trusts his judgment.

“And yet Agent Yvette Nichol had shown an aptitude for finding murderers. She was a sort of idiot savante, who had that one ability, perhaps sensing a like mind. But there was a reason she was on this case now. A reason he had to keep to himself.”

No one understands what Gamache sees in Nichol or why he keeps her on his team. She is like many of the officers that Gamache recruits—he often mentors officers in whom no one else seems to find value. Gamache sees value in Nichol as an investigator, but he has also brought her on to help him with his own personal investigation, proving her loyalty, and his trust, as well.

“With Mad she’d found a life full of kindness and thoughtfulness. She was a different person with Mad. Carefree, relaxed, lighthearted. She actually voiced her opinions. Actually had opinions. And Madeleine had listened. Hadn’t always agreed, but had always listened. From the outside theirs must have been an unremarkable, even dull life. But from the inside it was a kaleidoscope.”

Hazel loves her life with Madeleine, yet she struggles with feelings of jealousy that eventually lead her to kill her closest friend. Penny illustrates, through Hazel, the difference between love and attachment. As Myrna puts it, “Attachment takes hostages” (198). When Madeleine seems ready to move beyond their quiet life, Hazel’s attachment takes hold of her.

“Though he didn’t himself go to church, he knew the power of belief. And symbols. But then he thought about the other book he’d found and brought with him from the murder scene and whatever comfort he’d felt evaporated, seemed to be pulled from him and disappear into the void in front of him.”

Gamache is about to enter the Hadley basement, a traumatic place for him. He takes comfort in the Bible in his pocket, even though he does not believe in it, still feeling it powerful. The other book he thinks of is the one from the Hadley house, with the picture of the red hand, a book on magic, and the thought of it brings back all the negative feelings that the house engenders in him. Gamache struggles to let go of his skepticism and embrace belief to fully come to terms with his past experiences and discover the truth of the present.

“But Gamache had called his name, almost as though he’d known it was him. And the advantage had been lost. Worse than that, Chief Inspector Gamache seemed to have expanded. He stood absolutely unwavering in front of Lemieux, radiating not rage or even fear, but power. Authority.”

Lemieux is playing games to gain Gamache’s trust, but he badly miscalculates when he points a gun at Gamache. While Gamache is usually quiet and unassuming, at this moment Lemieux feels the full force of his authority and disapproval. Penny shows Gamache’s power at several points, when he turns from quiet and unassuming to authoritative and certain, reaffirming the centrality of his character to the reader.

“Her inscription read, Hazel enjoyed sports and the drama club. She never got mad. She never got mad, thought Gamache and wondered whether that was an example of equanimity or indifference. Who never got mad?”

Gamache focuses on understanding the emotional lives of the victims and the people around them to find the murderer. When he sees this yearbook quote about Hazel, he recognizes the oddity of a person who does not get mad. Later, he will read this quote in a different way—that she never got, or caught up to, Madeleine, whose nickname was Mad.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. At first it was wonderful. She was so gorgeous and warm and loving. And successful. Everything she did she was good at. She just glowed. It was like living too close to the sun.”

Madeleine’s ex-husband is explaining to Lacoste why they got a divorce. His assertion supports Hazel’s own perspective—that feeling constantly second best can eventually wear away love until it becomes something else. This is compounded by the fact that Madeleine, always successful, could be callous with others’ feelings.

“It was a strange world, he realized as he and Beauvoir made their way back to the B & B with their dossiers and yearbooks, when a good day was one where he was only accused of drunken incompetence.”

For several days, Gamache and his family have been the target of destructive and untrue news stories. The most recent, that morning, accuses him of being an alcoholic, but compared to previous stories, the accusation seems banal. This quote also illustrates Gamache’s resilience and egolessness, both of which allow him to see the humorous side of a horrible situation.

“‘I’m not a fool, Michel. I know what I’m doing.’ Both men hung up, Gamache grateful his friend would help, and Brébeuf knowing Gamache was indeed a fool.”

Gamache trusts Brébeuf implicitly, but Penny allows the reader to see into Brébeuf’s thoughts. This dramatic irony creates another level of tension and shifts this story thread from a whodunit to a whydunit. The reader knows who is betraying Gamache but will have to wait until he finds out for himself before the reason behind Brébeuf’s betrayal is revealed.

“Do you ever listen to yourself? All the advice you give others, does any of it penetrate your own thick skull? Why keep this secret? It’s our secrets that make us sick. Isn’t that what you always say?”

Brébeuf is frustrated with Gamache’s refusal to publicly address the negative news stories about him. However, when he quotes Gamache back to himself, Gamache realizes that the only person who he had said this to is Lemieux. This is the moment when Gamache understands that Brébeuf, his closest friend, is his betrayer.

“I knew who I was, but not where I belonged. I felt a stranger everywhere. Until I came here. As soon as I drove down that road into Three Pines I knew I’d found home.”

Jeanne explains to Gamache why she changed her name from Joan Cummings to Jeanne Chauvet. For her, it was an acceptance of herself as psychic and Wiccan. However, it is not until she arrives in Three Pines that she feels as if she belongs. Gamache understands because he experiences the same thing.

“She never got Madeleine. Never caught up. And never understood. Never ‘got it.’ Kept trying and kept failing, because you started seeing it as a competition and she never did. You were dogged by a best friend who was slightly better at everything.”

Gamache has gathered the villagers at the crime scene to reveal the murderer. He has gotten to the root of Hazel’s feelings about Madeleine and finally understands her motive. In high school, Hazel tired of being second best, and once Madeleine was healthy again, Hazel was afraid that she would be put in that position again in Three Pines.

“She reached out to him but he quickly leaned away. One by one everyone was backing away from Hazel. Leaving her in the one place she most feared. Alone.”

Hazel killed Madeleine out of jealousy and the sense that she would lose everyone she loved to Madeleine and be left alone. As Gamache reveals her to be the murderer, however, the same thing happens—the villagers withdraw from Hazel. Hazel’s confusion of love and attachment has left her alone.

“Still she hesitated. The truth was, it was comfortable there. Cold, lonely sometimes, but comfortable. What the hell did he know? Everything was easy for him. He wasn’t a girl, he wasn’t an immigrant, his mother hadn’t died young, he wasn’t mocked by his own family. He wasn’t a lowly agent. He’d never understand how hard it was for her.”

Nichol struggles with belonging in a different way. Her family is loud and plentiful but has never made space for her. Gamache tells her to make her own space, rather than waiting to be invited. Nichol, however, continues to make excuses to herself, showing the reader that this is an issue she will continue to struggle with in future books.

“‘But just make sure they’re really dead before you bury them otherwise you’ll never get rid of them.’ As he drove away he thought, maybe, he should take his own advice.”

Gamache has told Nichol to bury her dead, telling her she needs to let go of old resentments and move forward. He realizes that he needs to do the same, to get closure on his entanglement with the Sûreté and move on. Immediately after this scene, he returns to the Sûreté and attempts to gain closure with Francoeur, but it becomes obvious the man will not let it go.

“As he scraped he had the impression the house was moaning, as Henri did when he rubbed his ears. With pleasure. Years of decay, years of neglect, of sorrow, were being scraped away. It was being taken down to its real self, the layers of artifice removed. Had that been the moaning all along?”

Gamache still sees the house as a living thing, but his perception of it has changed. He realizes that the house had been burdened with everything that had happened there and blamed for it. Here, Penny uses the personification of the house, typical of the haunted-house genre of horror, to present a different perspective. Gamache draws a parallel between the house and his dog, Henri, making it seem suddenly harmless, an object of compassion, not fear.