Predictable but fun. It stalls a little when Figueras has his head up his own ass (by Willeford's design), but it fits the theme. I prefer The Shark-Infested Custard in terms of this era of Willeford but it's still worth breezing through.

Let down by this one, after having it hyped up as Willeford's best. Far too much inside baseball of the art world, and no real momentum until the latter part of the book. Rampant misogyny from multiple characters was also a bit of an issue.

I am a massive Charles Willeford fan.

But the Hoke Moseley novels are the only books by him I have read. Two of them, out of four total. The Hoke Moseley novels were his most financially successful, hence they are the most likely Willeford books you will have a chance to purchase from a used bookstore or online. As I did. They are the funniest American crime books I have ever read.

And then there is this book. A rough draft. Published in the 1970s. "Critics say it his best novel" What critics? Where? A bunch of Cool Cats like Tarantino and Pelecanos are quoted on the backflap praising Willeford, but if you look up the respective interviews none of them are actually talking about THIS book.

I'm not CERTAIN it is a rough draft but it reads like one. The exposition needs sanding and the descriptions need adjusting and Willeford's signature humor is out of tune.

My copy has a generic closeup of a woman's painted hand with fingernail polish, with a sticker attached after publication proclaiming: Now a major motion picture!

The cover that goodreads displays first when you search the title is such an adobe acrobat horseshit nightmare that I left it for my review. Pulp and crime novels do have a long and fine tradition of very misleading and lurid covers...

But Willeford deserves better.

Pickup? Cockfighter? The novels always mentioned on his book flaps? That made his reputation? One of which was made into a fun movie with Warren Oates? Used copies are hard to come by and very expensive.

Black Lizard out of Berkeley did its best to resurrect Willeford like they did Jim Thompson and David Goodis, but Black Lizard has been bought out by a multinational conglomerate long ago and NOW only publishes books by the likes of Dashiel Hammett (it's fine if you loved the Maltese Falcon, I don't, but there was already a copy of it IN EVERY BOOKSTORE AND LIBRARY IN THESE UNITED STATES BEFORE BLACK LIZARD STARTED REPRINTING HAMMETT BLACK LIZARD WAS FOUNDED TO PUBLISH OUT OF PRINT CRIME AUTHORS WITH PERSONALITY AND STYLE THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS) and the drivel of aristocrats who went to law school and write 600 page Law and Order SVU drivel, 300 page NCSI ripoffs, 400 page Law and Order Criminal Intent rehash sedatives, and so on, THESE authors wouldn't know a good crime story if it walked into their bathroom and stole the Cornell class ring off their hand while they were beating off.

Overlook Press. I am also a fan of them. They reprinted all of Charles Portis books! But. They reprinted this book in 2020 because a movie that no one remembers seeing or wanted to see (STARRING MICK JAGGER AND CLAES BANG!!!) was being released. At least I think they did. Perhaps the movie is good. Sometimes bad books can be turned into excellent movies. This isn't a bad book, it is just unfinished.

Still better than most of the best sellers on the crime fiction list though.

RIP Charles.

Another superbly written, and fascinating, Charles Willeford neo-noir masterpiece. If it doesn't quite scale the rarefied peaks of my beloved Cockfighter, that's ONLY because very few books possibly could. I recommend that anybody with any sort of interest in noirish'y fiction read him pronto. And a nod to the very interesting LitHub CrimeReads blog which, of course, champions Willeford, but also tons of lesser writers and national traditions that are nearly as good. A great place to get lost browsing.

This is a vicious little satire. It is apparent that Willeford does not like critics. It is especially apparent that he does not like the way critics, reviewers, and dealers use people's work for their own benefit or the way artists rest on their laurels or exploit their own reputations. As with most Willeford books I've read, the real heart of the story (and the best person in the story) is the woman. He uses misogynistic first-person narration from the lead character--a snotty and successful art critic--to really drive this point home. Berenice is the lens through which we should view these terrible people. She sees them for what they are as we are meant to. Figueras' multiple page monologue to her about modern art while she falls asleep is a hilarious little section. Willeford is one of the most enjoyable reads out there. Some would say this is his best novel. I'm not sure I agree. I think that opinion has formed because maybe because this book is more accessible. It deals with more high-brow subject matter and has a bit less sex, violence, and dirty humor than some of his more crime-focused work. Good stuff.

ABD'nin önde gelen sert polisiyecilerinden
Charles Willeford'un Yanık Portakal'ı adından sıkça söz ettirmiş, zamanında beyaz perdeye de uyarlanmış bir gerilim ve suç romanı. Ülkesinin sayılı sanat eleştirmenlerinden biri olan ana karakter James Figueras'ın ağzından yazılmış. Hikaye, Figueras'ın modern resmin en önemli temsilcilerinden sayılan, nihilist sürrealist akımının kurucusu kabul edilen, yaşayan efsane olaran anılan bir ressamı kullanarak kariyerinde ilerlemek uğruna, ömrü boyunca savunduğu değerler ile karşı karşıya gelişini, sanat dünyasının entrikalarını ve bir cinayete karışmasını konu alıyor. Modern resme ve gerilim hikayelerine ilgi duyanlara tavsiye ederim.

Frustratingly, the blurb for the edition I read contains information that otherwise wouldn’t have been apparent until over 90% of the way through reading. It shouldn’t have to be said, but if you’re thinking about reading this one, don’t even look at the back cover for danger of critical spoilers.

I would like to review this book but I've started reading another book and can't remember in any detail what Burnt Orange Heresy was about. That might tell you that it didn't leave a lasting impression.

I have a weak spot for
- “why is this person not a household name” authors;
- fiction/non-fiction set in south Florida;
- the unexpected, like profound (but accessible) meditations on art theory in a crime novel
- ridiculous juxtapositions that create charming/absurd scenarios like one character contemplating forgery/fraud/arson (that could potentially alter cultural history forever), attempting to carry on a conversation w the other character across the table who in their oblivion is stubbornly concerned about getting the security deposit back from the local utility after breaking a lease.

the 11th from willeford for me...paperback

burnt orange heresy, 1971

dedication
for the late, great jacques debierue
c. 1886-1970
memoria in aeterna

nothing exists.
if anything exists, it is incomprehensible.
if anything was comprehensible,
it would be incommunicable.
--gorgias

part one: nothing exists

story begins:
two hours ago the railway expressman delivered the crated, newly published international encyclopedia of fine arts to my palm beach apartment. i signed for the set, turned the thermostat of the air-conditioner up three degrees, found the clawhammer in the kitchen, and broke open the crate. twenty-four beautiful buckram-bound volumes, eggshell paper, deckle edged. six laborious years in preparation, more than twenty-five hundred illustrations--436 in full-color plates--and each thoroughly researched article written and signed by a noted authority in his specific field of art history.

two articles were mine. and my name, james figueras, was also referred to by other critics in three more articles. by quoting me, they gained authoritative support for their own opinions.

hoo-rah...onward & upward.

time & place...scene, settings
*james figueras palm beach apartment
*four arts gallery
*gloria's gallery
*the everglades club, palm beach
*james left a rent-controlled village apt in new york
*worth avenue
*royal palms towers...cassidy's place...penthouse there...a 7-story horror of poured concrete on lake worth
*gloria's white pontiac
*james's 7-year old convertible, chevy
*jacques place in paris/past/place where he framed art for others
*red pirate lounge
*dixie drive-in movie theater
*rex art...where materials were purchased
*jacques..."eugene debbs"...place in the swamplands
*rest-stop islands...dobbs house concession restaurant
*six-story brick hotel, valdosta, georgia, the valdosta arms
*a dirt road on the right
*baltimore, greyhound bus station
*regal pines nursing home, near melbourne, florida
*a howard johnson's

characters
*james figueras, art critic living in florida, has a book, art and the preschool child...a revision of his columbia master's thesis...& a condensed version of same, a 1,600-word piece is included in the encyclopedia. vol. iii has his article on jacques debierue. he taught art history at c.c.n.y. he had a puerto rican father & a white mother...he writes on a hermes typewriter. james claims that he has no superego or conscience, as his father did not exist for him from the age of one...died when he was 12, but parents separated when he was one, although the man supported them financially.
his two...favorite movements: dada & surrealism...jacques, the symbol of the divide between the two.
*jacques debierue, the greatest painter in the world, french artist, now a hermit hiding in the south florida swamplands...hiding out...having been aided by cassidy...under the name, eugene v. debs. his code: no pido nunca a nadie, i never asked nobody for nothing, said to be the father of nihilistic surrealism.
*clive bell...who has argued that art was "significant form"
*thomas wyatt russell, managing editor, fine arts: the americas, who offered james a position on the magazine as a columnist & contributing editor
*john heywood, who wrote: wherever you find ache, thou shalt not like him.
*gloria bentham, late-40s, art dealer and gallery owner in palm beach, was married for six months to a hardware store manager in atlanta
*berenice hollis, a high school english teacher from duluth, minnesota...james met her at the four arts gallery...they get together until james tires of her
*larry levine, coconut grove...a printmaker james had known in new york, prints, as in art
*his...larry's wife, paula
*jack wade, a mechanic in south miami, a truman lover...fashions a pair of glasses...wants t.r. on mount rushmore
*lincoln borglum...who finished the heads on rushmore
*gutzon...his father
*mr. joseph cassidy, 50s...penthouse at the royal palm towers...art collector, & a criminal lawyer in chicago where his practice is located
*naive haitian artists...primitives, not in the "native" sense...but in the artistic sense
*herbert "herb" westcott, 27-yr-old, a young cleveland painter who has spent time in haiti
*eddy...a bartender
*a tottering old man
*old mrs. weissberg, who lived in #2...apts where james resides
*3 types of collectors...that james defines
*dr. g.b. lang...working on a catalogue of cassidy's collection at cassidy's home in chicago...from university of chicago, too
*widow in lauderdale...gloria got her haitian primitives from her
*cassidy's filipino houseboy, rizal
*7 people at cassidy's when gloria & james arrive, making 9
*sloan, the bartender at cassidy's place
*dr. hank goldhagen, an ass't professor of anthropology at columbia that james knew
*his 1st wife died...in an urn
*his second wife, claire, too...died & the one thing he (james) is sorry for (no superego) is that he told james to put the 2nd in the same urn, save big money, save big money, when you shop menard's!
*willy buttner, berlin, between the wars, formed scatalogieschul, movement lasted 8 minutes
*herr buttner and his three defiant fellow exhibitors
*together w/their cretin model
*swiss essayist, franz moricand, 1st to use the term nihilistic surrealism to refer to debierue's art, his 1st show, his own, at his apt, called no. one., an empty frame showing the wall behind it, a crack and so forth and so on and scoobie doobie doobie.
*one old spanish nobleman from sevilla visited paris a half-dozen times for the sole purpose of taking another look at no. one.
*harold rosenberg..."the tradition of the new"
*timmy fraser...who sang "my funny valentine" at the red pirate lounge
*ray vint...this curious business w/the fly
*man ray...some dude
*james's landlady in florida
*girl at the western union
*an ancient black doorman
*a woman...another curiosity, magazines under the counter, cosmopolitan...heh!
*two blue-suited men w/ties
*a young black man wearing white coveralls
*a museum director...maury katz, some dude
*some cops
*the negro maid
*manager of the dixie drive-in, m. albert price
*desk clerks...night clerk...bellman


a quote or two
evil, like everything else, should keep pace with the times.

thinking, the process of thinking, and the man thinking are all one and the same.

an idea...or two
degenerate art...entartete kunst...kel-ka-chose doz nazis came up with...to help define, explain, show "degenerate art" during their reign, etc...a term used by hitler & the brown shirts to condemn modern art, lacking, a liberal media...they made doo

artists listed among that group:
otto dix, emil nolde, franz marc, paul klee, kandinsky, max beckmann...and many more....marc

part two: if anything exists, it is incomprehensible


part three: if anything was comprehensible,
it would be incommunicable/

update, finished, saturday morning, 5 jan 12, 9:45 a.m. e.s.t.
an okee-dokee story...not blown away...not bored to tears and yeah, there's the connection to his Miami Blues...a few links and so forth...a character therein w/a card in his pocket w/this protag's name...jaime...in one spelling here.

dunno what to make of it...this artist guy a pigment of willeford's imagination...not real, so how does one take james's extended instruction to berenice, art history, jacques's history...this that the other?

some curious things...the fluorescents in jacques's room..."two blue white to one yellow"...the colors, a curious thing, for those interested in colors, fluorescent lights. is there such a thing as festrol repellent? and the term "wind-wing" as in crack your wind-wing...get some air to this room (car).

so all is well and all manner of things are well.

Short...not sweet...brilliant

Not my favorite Willeford novel--it feels more like a crime caper than a gritty noir--but it definitely reflects his uniquely eccentric voice and worldview.