1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Lovejoy-lite: perfectly acceptable and competent English lout-lit detective series, February 2, 2007
This review is from: Angel In The House (Roy Angel S.) (Paperback)
Author Mike Ripley seems to be a well-established in Britain. His publisher provides us with the following information: "Mike Ripley is the author of a dozen previous novels in the 'Angel' series, which have twice won the Crime Writers' Last Laugh Award [whatever THAT may be] for comedy. He was also a scriptwriter for the BBC's Lovejoy series and served as the Daily Telegraph's crime fiction critic to ten years."
The [London] Times calls him "England's funniest crime writer", a dubious distinction. Of rather more significance is the fact that such well-known figures as Minette Walters and Colin Dexter are willing to appear in print praising him.
Ripley is evidently big-time in England, but judging by the reviews he has accumulated here on Amazon--none as far as my not-at-all diligent search has disclosed--he has had no discernible impact on in the North American market. That's too bad, because this book, which I take to be representative of the series, is pretty good. Certainly, it's more worth a few hours of a reader's time than some more famous British exports.
The lead character of the "Angel" series is a man who possesses but does not rejoice in the name Fitzroy McLean Angel. Ripley's stint on the TV Lovejoy writing team is plainly evident because Angel is offered to us as a perpetually broke, unreliable, self-centered, unambitious, lazy, greedy lout--as Lovejoy-lite, in point of fact. Angel is also the son of a British life-peer (who would be paid the sum of £64 for each day he turns up at the House of Lords, not that he ever does), but Angel makes up for it by driving a "delicensed" taxicab around London--although in this book he is forced to switch to a Peugeot 64, "voted the Gay Car of the Year" by a French automobile association. (Angel is the kind of guy who is concerned about such things.) That is not even the worst that happens to Angel in the book, for he suffers the ultimate indignity: his wealthy, pregnant girlfriend insists that as a father-to-be, he ought to be employed. Reluctantly, oh, most reluctantly he accepts a job as a detective at an agency his woman has bought for that very purpose.
Angel the Lout is the series character. Fortunately for his readers, from time to time Ripley forgets that and Angel is allowed to surprise us with flashes of intrepidity, worldliness, even honor.
This particular adventure endured by the ever-reluctant Angel involves hijacked Botox, salsa dancing, peculiar economics in the international used car business, odd goings-on at unsold houses and the unusual uses to which sex shop underwear can be put.
All-in-all, this is an entertaining book in what I strongly suspect is an entertaining series. Give it a try. h
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