Donna Larsen asked P.J. Fitzsimmons:

What do you think is the funniest british crime classic that was not specifically written for comedy? I like Smallbone Deceased by Michale Gilbert. I can listen to it over and over, soooo funny. But yours are funnier. I remember I was super upset about something and laid down in bed and put your book on and in a minute I was falling off the bed laughing, Thank you!

P.J. Fitzsimmons I’m very, very flattered, Donna, thank you very much.
I’ve actually thought about this question. Not specifically which is the funniest, but I definitely take notice when a good mystery is accompanied by a good laugh.
I’ve had Smallbone Deceased on the TBR list for, it looks like, six months (that’s when I bought it, anyway), so I’m going to reserve judgement, although glancing now at the first couple of pages I see what you mean.
In the meantime, my immediate runners up are going to be Agatha Christie’s The Seven Dials, which starts out very promising and properly witty but then rather fizzles as both a mystery and a narrative, and The Layton Court Mystery by Anthony Berkeley, which has a very funny first couple of chapters and then gets a little patchy and problematic.
But, continuing off the top of my head, my nomination for funniest British crime classic not specifically written for comedy is going to be Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy L Sayers, in which she takes tremendous delight in eviscerating the advertising industry. I think that Sayers is always witty and clever, but it’s in Murder Must Advertise that she’s at her most acerbically funny. I don’t think that Sayers is a brilliant plotter and I think that this book is a fine example of why I think that, but her quick, slick, cutting prose is so dazzling that it doesn’t really matter.
I very much appreciate the prod to reflect on this, Donna, and I appreciate even more your kind words — they’re very encouraging.

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