Quite Honestly

This is a love story without imagery depictions of gnarly positions written beautifully by Mr. Mortimer. Lucy wants to do some good in this world so she volunteers to be a reformer to Terry who has just been released from prison. Terry is not that easy to change therefore Lucy faces a big challenge in front of her. When push comes to shove Lucy perseveres; she is the daughter of a bishop. A lot of eccentric characters make up Mr. Mortimer's tale. The dialogues are funny. Each chapter is told from Lucy's point of view or Terry's side of an experience. The language is particularly stunning and swift. With Mr. Mortimer's knowledge of British law and order, and its justice system, his narration is tremendously exciting especially that he adds an extraordinary sense of humor into looking at situations. From the first page to the last this book is wonderful to read.

Lucy Purefoy, a confessed do-gooder, joins SCRAP (Social Carers, Reformers and Praeceptors), eager to help criminals rejoin society and become vital, working, happy parts of it. Her first and --- it turns out --- only charge, Terry Keegan, wants none of Lucy nor of SCRAP. He's finally won his freedom and vows to leave everything about "the system" behind. When he walks out of those prison doors, he has a little money in his pocket and a pretty good idea of where he wants to go, and it most definitely has nothing to do with Ms. Lucy Purefoy. His Aunt Dot always did quite well by him, so why not make a fresh start from there? Sadly, no one told Terry that Aunt Dot passed away during the three years he was off paying his debt to society. A bit desperate, Terry calls on his old buddy and partner --- or ex-partner --- in crime, Leonard "Chippy" McGrath, hoping to room with him just until he can get back on his feet. Unfortunately, Terry discovers that Chippy hasn't changed one iota since their days working together, and when Terry turns down Chippy's offer to join his cadre of B & E specialists, he finds himself back on the streets, stripped of his cash and his hopes of a bed for the night. With the whole idea of independence looking more and more difficult, Terry decides that the enthusiastic Ms. Purefoy might be able to help after all --- just this once. Naturally, the good-doing Lucy is ecstatic to have a real criminal to reform, especially after all those dull weeks spent in training. Excited that Terry has responded to her efforts, she redoubles her energies to find him a suitable place to live and lands him a legitimate job. Quite honestly, Lucy thinks, it's so simple. In order to most effectively help Terry, Lucy decides she needs to fully understand him, so she embarks on an ambitious plan to do so. She's a hands-on kind of gal. And you could say she goes beyond the call of duty. Way beyond. Maybe it's her naiveté, having grown up the daughter of a Bishop, or her wide-eyed belief that people are basically good, just in need of a break and a little faith. Whatever, Lucy learns more than she bargained for about a life of crime. Full of eccentric characters --- Lucy's father, a bishop whose modern interpretations of the church's teachings include tolerance for extramarital sex and gay marriages; Terry's cohort, the appropriately named Screwtop (unhappily, a reference to his brain function); Lucy's ex-boyfriends, a motley group of eccentric winners and big-time losers; and a romantically inclined prison matron with a hopeful roving eye --- QUITE HONESTLY is a quick-reading hoot. --- Reviewed by Kate Ayers

John Mortimer enchants and delights in this mirror-image telling of an upper class do-gooder, Lucinda Purefoy, and her reform project, working class thief and recent ex-con, Terry Keegan. The narrative technique, recounting the story from Lucinda's point of view, alternating with Terry's take on the same events, is unerring. Mortimer keeps the story moving with a born storyteller's sure hand. Thoroughly enjoyable, and far better than the telly.

Remember the O. Henry tale of love where the man sells his watch to buy an ornament to his love's beautiful long hair? And she sells her hair to buy him something? John Mortimer updates the meme. Terry Keegan is a small-time, young burglar about to be released from prson. Lucy Purefoy is an idealistic young woman who believes, more or less, that love and goodness can change the world, so she joins SCRAP (Social Carers, Reformers and Praeceptors). As a praeceptor, Lucy is to befriend a released prisoner and help him or her find a job, a place to live and keep them on the straight and narrow. Praeceptors are, of course, not to become their charges' friends and especially not their lovers. You know what's going to happen, don't you? Terry knows that there is a better, higher road in life, but he doesn't want Lucy's help. He'll find his own way, thank you. Lucy, of course, knows, just knows, she can change Terry's course in life. The story is told in alternating voices, first Lucy, then Terry. Along the way, author John Mortimer introduces us to characters who are a hilarious send up of contemporary mores. There's Lucy's father, a bishop who doesn't think God is on his side any more, not since the deity smiled upon Bush and Blair. Lucy's mother is an genteel alcoholic, totally self-absorbed. Lucy herself reflects the values of the age, never without a man of the moment in her bed. In all, Mortimer skillfully and efficiently describes our era, where traditional values have been abandoned for . . . well, for whatever strikes one's fancy. Of course, Lucy and Terry begin their descent along the slippery slope of love. Terry wants to earn the respect of Lucy by doing good. Lucy wants to bond with Terry by understanding what keeps him burgling houses. The plot is predictable as is the climax, but it's still lots of fun as Lucy and Terry wend their way through one hilarious episode after another. Mortimer has an easy style and is, overall, delightful. Definitely a light read, but always a very enjoyable one. Jerry

I enjoy Mortimer for two basic reasons. First, his stories are interesting and well-developed. More importantly, I find his novels and stories to contain a vastly amusing curmidgeon-like perspective on the foibles of current British society. This is certainly true even in the Rumpole stories. To say that the man can be maddingly witty is a vast understatement. Of course, the humor masks a very serious and perceptive observer of contemporary Britain; but it generates vast amounts of chuckles nonetheless. This novel is no exception. Mortimer, among other topics, manages to skewer "do-gooder" associations (that being SCRAP, otherwise known as Social Carers, Reformers and Praeceptors), the prison system, theories of criminal behavior, upper-class guilt, various theories of reforming convicted criminals, and the hierarchy of the Church of England. Satire can often be overdone, and Mortimer clearly sometimes pushed the envelope. But Mortimer fans and others will delight in this highly contrived, but nonetheless, amusing disgourgement of the author's latest collection of pet peeves. Mortimer, recently knighted, is not in the best of health these days, and has passed into his eighties. He was somewhat "shaky" when he spoke in Washington several years ago to a full house of enchanted listeners at a Smithsonian Institution function. However long he remains with us, he is to be savored and enjoyed--and re-read often.