Book 8: The Ten Word Game

I learned a new word! The style of this narrative is picaresque. Other books in this style are Don Juan, Tom Jones, and presumably, Diary of a Man Whore.

The single named protagonist of this is Lovejoy. Apparently there are a gajillion novels in the series and this just happens to be the one I picked up. Lovejoy is a 'divvy', a diviner who can feel it in his body if he is in the presence of a genuine antique vs a fraud. It doesn't sound like a pleasant experience. I don't know either, how this is supposed to work in London where so many of the buildings are older than most everything in Nebraska, for instance.

There are a lot of characters in this book-- more characters than intrigue I am sorry to say. And of course, Lovejoy boinks all of the women. He's one of those annoying men who says they love all women when really it's that they love having sex with all women and don't actually love any specific woman. I find this sort of man supremely irritating. Shocking, right? I sort of suspect a little of the Unreliable Narrator in that all the women he meets really want to have it off with him. He's not eloquent and he seems to eat like a pig. Since the earliest book came out in 1977, it's not like he's in his prime or anything. Do you suppose when he drops trou' that the Old Man Smell emanates from his junk?

Lovejoy (seriously, is he a granola-gigolo?) has all sorts of quaint slang-- Making Smiles in the Lantern Hours. DONNEZ MOI UNE BREAK. The only worse euphemism for sex can be found on infertility bulletin boards: Baby-dancing. "The kids are staying overnight at my mother in law's so we are making smiles. Yeah, I am gonna babydance his brains out" No. Just. . . No.

The persona is bigger than the mystery, which doesn't make it much of a mystery.