In preparing the post for this book, I discovered that Pretty Sinister Books had beat me to it by a considerable margin. Read the revie. Much better than I could do.
This was my first exposure to Charles Willeford’s work and what I read is not exactly a crime novel. Oh, there’s a murder victim here, arson, theft. What it is is a take on the art world: critics, artists, collectors, and their sphere of existence.
Jacques Figueras is the art critic pushed into stealing from a reclusive painter. A self made man who’s a bit vain about his work.
First Willeford, but not likely my last.