Disappointing. Philo Vance was a very popular solver-of-mysteries in the 20s and 30s, and that vintage alone recommended him to me. His character is introduced in the first of these four novels as tall, handsome, cultured and elegant-- he scrupulously declines wearing a boutonniere because "the decoration has fallen into disrepute. The only remaining devotees are roue's and saxophone players." Naturally I was charmed.
But I soon found that Vance sounds almost exactly like Lord Peter Whimsey, which seems a little unusual since he is not a Brit but an American: "Why the haste, old dear? The chap's dead, don't y'know; he can't possibly run away." There will be many a "Tut! tut!" and "deuced" and "extr'or'dnarily" before the investigation runs its course.
(Historical fact: Whimsey first appeared in 1923, a year when S.S. Van Dine was laid up with a nervous breakdown from overwork. He happened to be spending the time bedridden and reading over 2,000 detective stories. Coincidence?)
I am a Whimsey fan and would have been quite happy with these mannerisms except for Vance's habit of repeatedly informing all and sundry that he has the mystery completely solved-- and refusing to tell them his conclusions. Most vexing, d'y'know? So I set this series down after finishing the first novel.
What I really am in the mood for now is a restorative re-reading of Robert L Fish's delightfully satiric Schlock Homes series. Highly recommended for anyone who would like to take the genius detective types with a happy seasoning of flippancy and puns.