The scene of the crime is Greenwich Village. The corpse is found holding 11 pink roses - and the suspects are as strange as the crime. A Wild and witty journey into the dark heart of Manhatten, Greenwich Killing Time is the perfect introductin to America's most outrageous singer-songwriter turned gumshoe dectective.
While this book has some interesting twists and funny literary allusions, the protagonist (named for the author) is too much of a racist, misogynist, and homophobe for the book to be truly successful. It's a shame, because the humor is sometimes brilliant, but all of the hatred is far too distracting. Here's a small example:
"...I realized, not for the first time, that women and cats had a lot in common. For one thing, neither of them had a particularly well-developed sense of humor. For another, they both went through life governed only by things that either comforted them or intrigued them. They both liked to be stroked and cuddled and they both could pounce when you least expected it. On the whole, I preferred cats to women because cats seldom if ever used the word 'relationship.'"
"...I realized, not for the first time, that women and cats had a lot in common. For one thing, neither of them had a particularly well-developed sense of humor. For another, they both went through life governed only by things that either comforted them or intrigued them. They both liked to be stroked and cuddled and they both could pounce when you least expected it. On the whole, I preferred cats to women because cats seldom if ever used the word 'relationship.'"
