From Library Journal
You gotta hand it to the guy: not only does the New York Times call Friedman the "funniest...most politically incorrect country singer turned mystery writer" alive, but he makes Bill Clinton laugh. In his latest mystery, a member of Willie Nelson's band is shot by someone gunning for Nelson himself, and Friedman (as protagonist) must investigate.
Copyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--Ce texte provient d'une édition qui n'est plus publiée ou qui est non diponible.
From Booklist
Friedman's annual mystery novels have always served more as platforms for the rantings of a true eccentric--that is to say, vehicles for Friedman's brand of non sequitur topped off by his personal blend of kinky logic and Groucho Marxism ("horseshit cocktail chatter," he calls it)--than as honest-to-goodness detective stories, so trying to figure out their plots is seldom worth the trouble. Nevertheless, the tenth mystery starring Kinky as Kinky, is his best in years, largely due to the guest-star appearance of singer Willie Nelson, "the last living folk hero in America." Someone seems to have placed an Indian curse on the "Red-Headed Stranger," and while on the road again in his infamous bus, the
Honeysuckle Rose, Willie has to dodge the IRS, a few ex-wives, and a bullet or two. During the course of this stretcher, Willie and Kinky down a lot of Jameson and smoke a lot of cigars (and reefer) as well as engage in many pointless conversations with Kinky's inscrutable cat. Kinky's kvetching mope is an excellent counterpoint to Willie's Zen Texan. Let's hope we see them paired again.
Benjamin Segedin
--Ce texte provient d'une édition qui n'est plus publiée ou qui est non diponible.
