Customer Reviews

Something Nasty in the Woodshed (Library Edition)

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

by R.W.Fisher Don't be fooled by Kyril Bonfiglioli's light hearted narrative style. This novel is actually a look at betrayed trust in human personal and societal relationships which are examined by neatly and subtly weaving in religion and superstition. An ostensible parody of the English Satanic thriller, SOMETHING NASTY IN THE WOODSHED has an ending more horrible and soul upsetting than any gothic confection. This is a wonderful satire by a person who knows how to use language for maximum humourous effect. One doesn't realize until after a second reading just how deep beneath surface mores Bonfiglioli has gone.

Why Kyril Bonfiglioli is not regarded as one of our best novelists is unbeleivalbe.I can only put it down to lack of exposure.The man can make you laugh and cry on the same page.I cannot reccomend him highly enough...... Everybody must read the Mordecai books NOW

The third book in the Mortdecai trilogy doesn't disappoint. This book captures the originality of the first book and improves on the polish of the second. The book opens with a tour-guide style listing of the surroundings of Mortdecai's current environs (The Islands, The People, The Fauna, The Flora, etc.) before launching into a bizarre tale of rape, mysticism, and, of course, C. Mortdecai's appetites.

In these novels, the plot isn't centrally important - it's the journey that counts. The standard cast of characters is here and Charlie seems to have settled into the contentment of married life. As in the first book of the series, the ending sees Bonfiglioli mercilessly hammer his characters and they all sport mental or physical wounds of varying severity. For my taste, this adds to the story with the bittersweet ending giving the characters depth not often seen in a light hearted romp.

I wish Bonfiglioli had written much more.

I love Simon Prebble and only get audio books that are read by him. This is probably his best and I don't think I would have finished reading it if in book form but Simon makes such a wonderful production. I shall purchase a couple more audios for gifts for special friends. English humor at it's most wonderful height.

Kyril Bonfiglioli knows how to mix a perfect cocktail of a book like no other. While others may sacrifice one quality for the sake of privaledging another, with the result of overwelming dryness or uninspiring wetness (lacrymose), Bonfiglioli knows how to stir up all the ingredients (a nice bit of brutality here, a sardonic observation there, a bit of satire elsewhere, and just a rumor of pathos) with the result of something of overall satisfaction and with the miracle of the individual flavors not being lost. His hero, the Hon. Charlie Mortdecai, I would rank even over the immortal Flashman for candid, rakish charm, and for a easy offhand (and yet pointed) manner of wit that would not have embarrassed you know who.

Sadly, the third book in the series is the worst. It's still funny as can be, and if anything, some of the witty asides in this book are even more outrageous than the first two (think of the very best stuff written by Doug Kenney in the early days of the National Lampoon). However, Bonfiglioli has decided to make 90% of the book occur on the Isle of Jersey, and that cramps his style quite a bit. The characters are Jersey are more dark than the ones in the first two books, and there is much more of a plot. Unfortunately, that resolution (you could argue the first two books barely resolves their wisps of a plot) felt very forced to me and really detracted from desired effect.

Bonfiglioli moved to Jersey during this time, and so maybe that is why he felt he had to base the book there. That choice really narrows the wide range of characters he has to skewer, and circumscribes his plot as well.

That said, some of the most outrageous observations in the series are in this book, including a long exposition by a character named Lord Dunromin in the middle of the book that is just priceless for its archness, expression, and sheer political incorrectness.

If you've read the first two books, you know you're going to read this one just to tie off the series. There is a fourth book, which Bonfiglioli did not finish before dying. It was finished by a second author. Personally, I think this book is the way I'd like to think about Charlie and my taking leave of him.

A rather ugly story, with mostly very ugly people. The author tries to be funny by trashing all classes, professions and nationalities, and by resorting to simple excess, and it quickly becomes tiresome. He's read too much Bertie Wooster, without the skill to work it.

This book was one of the hardest to finish I've ever come across. It was just boring. There were some very witty turns of phrases sprinkled throughout, but they diamonds buried under too many uninteresting ones. Also, the wit often seemed out of place with rape a central theme of the book. However, at the end the author seems to quit trying to be witty and the writing and pace of the book improves tremendously. The ending saved this from being a one-star review.

Because of Leo Carey's wry, admiring, melancholy essay in THE NEW YORKER, I grabbed this novel and its two prequels when I found them at a local used bookstore, and oh, how I wanted to like them more than I ended up doing. But they're just not as good as the hype. They drift all over the place [to be fair, Carey admitted that devotees of mysteries would find these books too undisciplined], and the narrator's aggressively amoral personality -- imagine P. G. Wodehouse's Bertie Wooster crossed with Jonathan Gash's Lovejoy -- can wear on one after a while. The plots are made of Swiss cheese, at best, and these books are also sadly dated in their views of women. Maybe it's because I read the Lovejoy books before these -- if I had come to them without knowing about Lovejoy, I would have enjoyed them more.

Like reviewer Bernstein below, I really wanted to fall in love with this book and others by Bonfiglioli.

I heard his prose compared favorably with Wodehouse and imagined twisted plots, rapier wit, deft turns of phrase...in short, I got a bit goosebumpy. When I got my hands on this book, I jumped into the "comfy armchair" with a cup of coffee and orders for everyone around me to be quiet, and looked forward to a few hours of blissful bookish abandon.

After the first chapter or so, I put those expectations aside, and simply hoped for a good read, but the book was not to my taste. The characters did not engage, the plot did not grip...the writing did not...well, it just didn't.

I felt as though I were looking at one of those awful "3-D" pictures from the 1990's, and everyone could see the invisible dancing dolphins depicted in the swirling blue-green miasma but me. I just don't "get" Charlie Mordecai. Sigh.