Post by franklinmarsh on Oct 22, 2007 19:44:43 GMT
Quote Demonik '"A Boisterous broadside of boobs, bottoms and bedrooms"
Who'd have thought FM would have a book like that in his collection? "
Surprising isn't it?
Many thanks to Steve for mentioning the 'Way' series - confirming that I wasn't mad or lying. In the early 70s Britain is reeling from the sexual hangover of the 60s. The Pill, free love, Swedish pornography. How can the repressed Brits cope with all this? By 'avin' a laugh! Of course - the great contradiction in terms - the British sex comedy - unsexy and no laughs. Not necessarily. Russ Tobin and Timothy Lea are our working class men about town, having no (or little) trouble bedding endless successions of birds. Tandem (who will always be the home of Nick Carter in his Agent N3 Killmaster guise, and publishers of ultimate teen vox pop class ic (the UK) Generation X to me - although Dem has turned up some horrors) decided to go a leetle upmarket and introduce Albert Devine - art dealer. Not the most promising of jobs to provide endless rumpo you may think, but the cover of this book promises 'A Boisterous Broadside of Boobs, Bottoms and Bedrooms!' The wafer thin plot, such as it is, sends Albert to sunny Spain in search of reclusive painter Salvatore Saragossa who has gone into hiding, refusing to see anyone. Is he still working? Is he producing masterworks than no-one will ever see, let alone get a chance to sell with a whopping commission? Albert must break into his estate and find out. Or there's always his delicious daughter, wahey! wife or even pert,pouting personal assistant. Spoiler alert! (Although it's probably only me - or possibly WD who'd ever read this tosh - let me save you the trouble) In true Brit sex-com style Albert actually manages to fail to have sex for a good half of the book. It's presented to him on a plate or thrust under his nose, but circumstances,alcohol,irate other men and the Spanish customs service conspire to deny him. It's an appalling comment on British sexuality (not to mention Stephen John) that when he finally gets to put the ferret through the furry hoop, he is dressed as a woman, in a Sapphic bedroom, with a naked lesbian (he has managed to keep his drag on) who has presented him with a turquoise plastic strap on artificial willy (pause - I have read a few horror, supernatural and science fiction novels and nothing has asked me to suspend disbelief like this scene) - and the cunning devil has managed to use his real todger instead of the facsimile (or should that be fu...forget it!) at the last minute. Unfortunately, everything after that is an...anticlimax. But it's quite a jolly little book - relatively inoffensive, amusing if not hilarious, the upmarketness means a rather arch writing style but pleasant enough. I've got another couple of these to plough through and I hope they're up (shurely down?) to this standard.