No Tears for Hilda: Max Easterbrook Investigates - Andrew Garve


I have read a few really, really bad Golden Age mysteries, but this was so bad it was almost funny. Almost.

The crime made no sense. The amateur sleuth was annoying and really, really dumb. And the writing was godawful in that it was rife with misogyny and pop psychology that literally made no sense at all.

And to top all of this, the resolution – as hilarious as it was – was entirely implausible.