DONT POINT THAT THING AT ME [Paperback]

KYRIL BONFIGLIOLI (Author)

Product Details

• Paperback
• Publisher: WEIDENFELD & NICHOLSON (1972)
• ASIN: B000RZAS1O
• Average Customer Review: 4.1 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (15 customer reviews)

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Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

12 of 12 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars A Deliciously Droll Caper, May 11, 2000

By 

A. Ross (Washington, DC) - See all my reviews
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This review is from: Don't Point That Thing at Me! (Library of Crime Classics) (Paperback)

This is a reprint of an exceedingly witty English book from 1970 in which the wordplay and piercing descriptions far outweigh the enjoyment to be gotten from the actual plot, which features stolen art, blackmail, double crossing, etc... There is plenty of foreshadowing, so you aren't surprised at the rather bleak ending, but the journey there is highly entertaining. Imagine a crime thriller written by P.G. Wodehouse, and you might get a feel for the type of dry Brit humor to be found here.

7 of 7 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Scandelous, preposterous, delightful., September 4, 2000

By 

Sebastian Opol "Sandwich Island" (Anchorage, AK USA) - See all my reviews

This review is from: Don't Point That Thing at Me! (Library of Crime Classics) (Paperback)

I agree with Stephen Fry:"You couldn't snuggle under the duvet with anything more disreputable and delightful". And it is available from www.amazon.co.uk under the title THE MORTDECAI TRILOGY! How delicious.

6 of 6 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars When Your Manservant is Named Jock Strapp...., October 6, 2004

By 

John Matlock "Gunny" (Winnemucca, NV) - See all my reviews
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This review is from: Don't Point that Thing at Me (Paperback)

When the detective in the mystery has a manservant named Jock Strapp, you get a pretty good idea of what to expect. It's a detective story, well sort of as the hero is not all that honest himself, even when he's sober. So you combine the stolen paints, the secret police, a dead client, and the obligatory ravishing young widow -- and it's hard to make a dishonest living.

This is the first of a series of British mysteries beginning in 1972. It's written by an art dealer. But as the introduction says, This is not an autobiographical novel: It is about some other portly, dissolute, immoral and middle-aged art dealer. The rest of the characters are quite imaginary too, especially that Mrs. Spon, but most of the places are real.

Popular enough to have assumed almost cult status in England, I'm glad to see that it's finally crossed the pond.