Customer Reviews

Murder in the Museum of Man: A Norman de Ratour Mystery

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Parts of the book were hilarious. I laughed out loud while reading about the meetings of the Oversight Committee. They were just a little bit more absurd, but much funnier, than some of the academic meetings I have attended. And parts of the book were deeply moving. A most satisfying read.

This is a wonderful and hilarious book. More satire than murder mystery, it is a precisely accurate send-up of academic over-reaching, in the tradition of Kingsley Amis (Lucky Jim) and Richard Russo (Straight Man). Also, Norman Detour (sic) is a beguiling hero; you cannot help but love him. I will buy more of his mysteries, though now that his adventures with Elsbeth are somewhat resolved, I can only imagine where he will go next. Thank you, Alfred Alcorn (a pen name?) for a wonderful reading experience!

It is with anxious trepidation that I approach the task of writing this review, my hands hovering above the keyboard (part of a D*** system equipped with an impossibly complex W***** platform created for academics, given that the University insists upon uniformity in the matter of computers and one is not allowed any other brand; unless, of course, one has a government grant for research in the natural sciences) as I contemplate the intricate pathways of thought, the microscopic attention to detail (of course one cannot dine at the Faculty Club if one's trousers have been ripped by an out of control chimpanzee at a formal reception in the courtyard!), and the exquisitely hesitant self-consciousness of the introvert, sensing and thinking psychological typology of the narrator, who none the less contains within himself a stubborn mind consecrated to the protection and continuance of tradition. In short, hesitant he may seem to be, but in fact he lives for closure and certainty.

As I made my way through this literary maze, reminiscent of the garden mazes so valued in the 19th Century equally by the English and the French, although each nation in its own peculiar way, I found myself repeatedly reaching for this or that volume of the Unbridged Oxford Dictionary (yes, I know it is online, but I much prefer the heft of each volume upon my lap and the feel of the acid free paper in my hands), in order to appreciate fully the writer's complete mastery of the English language together with academic Latin still employed so commonly in the natural sciences and the literature of languages having their grounding in Proto Indo-European, although I was disappointed and somewhat taken aback at the lack of references from Semitic and Asian languages, each of which has a literary tradition rooted further back in history than current variants of the English language (which indeed has plentifully cannibalized words from nearly every other language of the world).

In brief, if academia knows such a concept as "in brief," this novel is a masterpiece of satire, exposing all the foibles of university life as well as neatly parodying the classic mystery novel. In the midst of the author's unrelentingly pedantic silliness the reader will find sufficient raunchy sexuality and profound insight into the human condition to satisfy his or her most base desires and refined values.

When taking up this book, be sure to have at your side a bottle of fine vintage wine, or perhaps perfectly aged brandy, or maybe a bottle of your favorite light beer (okay, even a heavy beer). Or hot chocolate or aromatic coffee. In summertime surely one might lapse into a gin and tonic or cold ginger-ale. Don't forget the plate of gourmet cheeses (if necessary, sliced American or a pimento cheese spread will do) and British crackers and crusty French bread (or saltines or wheat thins, what the heck). Take your time and enjoy this book, a novel of severe profundity (nudge, nudge, wink, wink, get it? Got it? Good!).

Respectfully submitted,

Hrodobertus Aestivale, BA, MA, MDiv, PhD.