Crocodile on the Sandbank (Amelia Peabody #1) by Elizabeth Peters

I bless the person who told me about the Amelia Peabody mysteries written by Elizabeth Peters, the pen name of Barbara Mertz, whose delightful non-fiction accounts of ancient Egypt have so enthralled me. So it was with this knowledge that I went into Crocodile on a Sandbank (the first in the series). I was not disappointed. 

Amelia is a woman who knows her own mind. Her father, somewhat of a scholar, indulged her when she grew up – hence as a spinster, she's not at all interested in the traditional roles expected for a woman of her standing during the late nineteenth century. Not only does she know her own mind, but she also is a woman of independent means, and she decides to see the world after her father's passing leaves her well off.

After she crosses paths with the unfortunate, disgraced Evelyn, and after saving her from certain death, has Evelyn accompany her to Egypt. Here they bump into two Egyptologist brothers – Radcliffe and Walter – who are busy excavating in Tell el-Amarna. 

Look, I'm not going to spoil a story where obviously many hijinks ensue. Mertz writes with great wit and humour, and her love and understanding of ancient Egypt and the early days of Egyptology shine through. There are 20 novels in this series, so I'm confident that I have many wonderful hours ahead of me. This edition was narrated by Barbara Rosenblat, who delivers the narrative with much vivacity – so much so that it feels as if the characters leapt off the pages and took up residence in my imagination rent free.

In fact, it's a sin that we don't have a TV series based on Mertz's writing yet. There is so much fodder here for an excellent adaption. But then again, perhaps it is better that the stories don't make it to the screen. Crocodile on a Sandbank captures the essence of an era, with a ring of authenticity that does rather illustrate the casual jingoism of the time. (Which may annoy some.)

Amelia Peabody, however, is a delight, in an era where women traditionally did not have agency. Her gleeful disregard of societal norms had me giggling throughout, and what rudimentary knowledge I possess of Egyptology meant that I had a solid understanding of the setting and some of the societal dynamics. I'm looking forward to the titles that follow.