Audiobook Sample
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- Title: That Affair at Elizabeth
- Author: Burton Egbert Stevenson
- Narrator: Cate Barratt
- Length: 05:02:26
- Version: Abridged
- Release Date: 01/01/2017
- Publisher: LibriVox
- Genre: Mystery, Thriller & Horror, Detective Stories
- ISBN13: SABLIB9786352
It’s not every day you stumble across a mystery that feels like a dusty letter unearthed from a forgotten attic, but “That Affair at Elizabeth” by Burton Egbert Stevenson, narrated by Cate Barratt, is exactly that kind of treasure. This audiobook free on LibriVox swept me back to the cobblestone streets of turn-of-the-century New York City, where a young lawyer turns sleuth amid a tangle of secrets, plot twists, and – of course – a dash of romance. The story unfolds like a slow caravan winding through unfamiliar terrain, each turn revealing a new vista of intrigue, and I couldn’t help but lean in closer with every chapter.
I first pressed play on this detective tale while driving through the winding roads of upstate New York last fall, the leaves ablaze in reds and golds, the air crisp with that unmistakable autumn bite. It reminded me of a time when I was holed up in a creaky old inn in Vermont, the kind of place where the walls seemed to whisper their own stories. There, I’d spent evenings by the fireplace, listening to the innkeeper recount local legends with a voice that carried the weight of history. Cate Barratt’s narration brought that same intimate, fireside quality to Stevenson’s novel – she doesn’t just read the words; she inhabits them, pulling you into the world of gaslit streets and whispered suspicions.
The plot centers on a mysterious event in the small town of Elizabeth – a disappearance or a murder, depending on how you interpret the clues – and our lawyer-turned-detective is thrust into a web of motives and misdirection. You can almost hear the clatter of horse-drawn carriages and the rustle of petticoats as he digs deeper, chasing shadows through a society bound by rigid norms. Stevenson, a librarian and journalist by trade, weaves a tale that’s both a puzzle and a portrait of early 20th-century life. The themes of trust, deception, and the hidden layers of human connection resonate like the echoes of a distant train whistle, faint but persistent.
What struck me most was how the audiobook experience amplified the story’s atmosphere. Barratt’s voice is steady yet warm, with a pacing that mirrors the deliberate unraveling of the mystery. Her tone shifts effortlessly – soft and conspiratorial one moment, sharp with urgency the next – making you feel like you’re eavesdropping on a private confession. There’s a moment early on, as the lawyer stumbles onto his first clue, where her slight pause before delivering the revelation made my heart skip, as if I’d uncovered it myself. It took me back to those evenings in Oaxaca, where the grandmother’s storytelling turned silence into its own kind of suspense. Barratt has that same gift, using the rhythm of her narration to build tension you can almost taste, like the smoky bite of mezcal lingering on your tongue.
The novel itself is a classic detective story, packed with the genre’s hallmarks: red herrings, multiple suspects, and a climax that flips your assumptions upside down. Stevenson’s strength lies in his plotting – each twist feels earned, not forced, like footsteps crunching through fresh snow toward an inevitable destination. There’s a romantic subplot, too, which adds a layer of warmth without overshadowing the central mystery. It’s not as cerebral as an Agatha Christie whodunit or as gritty as a modern thriller, but it holds its own with a quiet confidence, a relic of its 1907 origins that still captivates.
That said, it’s not flawless. The characters, while charming, don’t always get the depth they deserve. The lawyer is likable enough – earnest, sharp-witted – but I wanted more of his inner world, a glimpse beneath the surface that Stevenson only hints at. The supporting cast, too, can feel like sketches rather than portraits, though the brisk pace keeps you from dwelling on it too long. For a story so rooted in its era, it also sidesteps some of the darker social undercurrents – class tensions, gender roles – that could’ve enriched the tapestry. Still, these are minor quibbles in a narrative that’s more about the journey than the destination.
Barratt’s narration smooths over these rough edges beautifully. Her voice brings a humanity to the characters that the text alone might not fully convey, especially in the quieter moments – a sigh here, a lilt there – that hint at unspoken emotions. The audio quality, typical of LibriVox’s volunteer-driven productions, is clear and unadorned, free of distracting effects but rich with personality. At just over five hours, it’s the perfect length for a weekend escape, whether you’re curled up with a cup of tea or navigating a long drive through unfamiliar territory.
If you’ve ever enjoyed the meticulous plotting of Arthur Conan Doyle or the atmospheric charm of Christie’s early works, “That Affair at Elizabeth” will feel like a familiar friend. It’s not as iconic as “The Hound of the Baskervilles” or “The Murder of Roger Ackroyd”, but it shares their knack for keeping you guessing. Where Stevenson diverges is in his lighter touch – less brooding, more buoyant – which Barratt’s narration enhances with her down-to-earth delivery.
This audiobook is a gem for anyone who loves a good mystery with a historical twist, especially if you’re new to the genre or looking for a free listen that doesn’t skimp on quality. It’s ideal for those quiet, introspective moments – think rainy afternoons or late-night road trips – when you want a story that pulls you in without demanding too much. Fans of oral storytelling, like the kind I’ve chased from desert campfires to village porches, will find Barratt’s performance especially rewarding.
Reflecting on it now, this audiobook felt like a companion on a journey I didn’t know I needed. It reminded me of that drive through the Atacama Desert, when Gabriel García Márquez’s words painted magic over the barren expanse. Stevenson and Barratt don’t reach quite that level of transcendence, but they don’t need to. They offer something simpler, yet no less satisfying: a well-told tale, a steady voice, and a mystery that lingers like the scent of old paper in the air. For a free audiobook experience, it’s a steal – one that proves the best stories don’t always come with a price tag.
Until our next adventure, stay curious and keep listening,
Marcus Rivera
