Review of Shoot the President, You Must be Mad

I know I've been neglecting the blog for quite some time, but the past 12 months have been rather a lesson in how to take a metaphorical beating, and despite the pain, I find I'm coming out all right. Still, it's been a while since I've been jump up and down excited to receive a book in the mail. That all changed when I ordered a copy of Frank McAuliffe's unpublished Augustus Mandrell novel, Shoot the President, You Must be Mad (The Outfit, 2010), a book that has unfairly languished unpublished for decades.

It is the final novel chronicling the humorous exploits of well heeled killer for hire Augustus Mandrell, and it's quite funny and entertaining, even if it doesn't rise to the heights of Of All The Bloody Cheek. This novel, unlike Cheek, is not divided into "Commissions" as the droll Mandrell calls them, but constitutes one long tale of Mandrell setting up and executing a rather involved assassination in America. As such, the book drags a little in places, but it is filled with McAuliffe's singular wit, and his observations about American culture are surprisingly timely for a book that's been moldering in a drawer for years. Mandrell, to accomplish his goal, assumes the identity of one Clifford Waxout, a member of a right-wing group known redundantly as America's Americans. It was no doubt based on the John Birch Society, but it doesn't take much imagination to see a connection between the old right and the new Tea Party's yammering on about socialism. The more things change, the more things stay the same.

The story gets off to a bit of a slow start, with Mandrell putting in a lot of time and effort to seduce and opera singer in order to get an invitation to an event where the President will be present. While amusing, it is a little tedious. The good news, however, is that once the mayhem starts it is outrageous and laugh out loud funny. McCauliffe once again succeeds in bringing some much needed humor to the grim world of the contract killer.

(Let me apologize for a lack of a cover image. I seem to be experiencing technical difficulties in that department.)

Your Delayed Wednesday Paperback Cover

The first edition of Frank McCauliffe's Of All the Bloody Cheek. I have some good news to go with this cover. JT Lindroos, formerly of Pointblank and currently of The Outfit, has recently let slip that he has just sent a McCauliffe's unpulished Mandrell manuscript, Kill the President? You Must be Mad, to the printer, and it should be available in the not too distant future.

Best of the Year

I usually avoid best of the year type lists, because I don't read enough to make a serious assessment, but I've looked back at my reviews for 2009, and I've decided that if you don't read the following books you are a loser and suck.


Allan Guthrie's Slammer is the book of the year. At first, I thought Zeltserman had the top spot locked up, but this one wins out on review. It's a real leap forward for Guthrie. As I said in the review, it's "Guthrie's first grown up novel." In terms of Guthrie's writing and storytelling, it's an improvement on a style that was already worthy. If this is a glimpse of things to come, I can't wait.


Speaking of Zeltserman, Pariah, was great. It was pretty much perfect in every respect. You can't ask for more than perfection, can you?


While, Of All the Bloody Cheek, was published a long time ago, and reprinted many years ago, I just got around to reading it this year. I've never read anything quite like this comic hitman novel, and I doubt I ever will. Augutus Mandrell is quite the creation, and it is a pity he has been forgotten. Murder doesn't have to be serious.


Snitch Jacket by Christopher Goffard is another novel I came to late, but is still a must read. The story of loser and his friendship with a fake Vietnam vet, it's funny and touching and repulsive all at the same time. A cut above.

And last, but not least, The Big Wake Up by Mark Coggins. The pulpy nature of this one combined with a more realistic element really worked for me. I want to read more August Riordan mysteries, so mission accomplished Mr. Coggins.

Review of Of All The Bloody Cheek

Killing people is a grim business. This is why, in fiction, hitmen are either tormented, existential figures or your garden variety psychopaths. It is rare to find a fictional contact killer who approaches his work with aplomb and joy de vivre. Augustus Mandrell is such a killer. The invention of Englishman Frank McAuliffe and the hero of three published books (and a rumored unpublished fourth one), Mandrell is the world's greatest hitman, and he's going to make sure you know it.



Starting with Of All The Bloody Cheek (Point Blank, 2005), which was first published in 1965, Mandrell narrates his adventures with relish. Cheek is more of a collection of four connected novellas, than a proper novel. The stories take place in the late 30's and early 40's. In each section, Mandrell relates the story of one of his "commissions," with each one being more elaborate than the next. Mandrell even has a nemisis in the form of an American Army Lieutenant (later a major) named Proferra, whose encounters with Mandrell leave him increasingly mutilated and unhinged.



The events may be historical, but McCauliffe gives Mandrell an urbane, witty, voice that is still engaging over 40 years after it initally appeared. McCauliffe has succeeded in creating a unique hitman who provides a wonderful counterpoint to his more serious counterparts. Unfortunately, Cheek is the only book in the series in print. Point Blank had, at one point, intended to reprint them all, but that plan seems to have fallen by the wayside. Pick this one up while you can still find it.