The trouble with reading a series of books is trying to come up with something new to say with each succeeding book. If I stop enjoying the series, I’ll stop reading the books, so I can’t really complain about them. And I usually read them for enjoyment, not necessarily for any edification–and often the critical faculties will simply take a sabbatical while I’m in the midst of one.

In this Lovejoy mystery, Lovejoy has to overcome his incredulation over the fact that someone might actually possess the Holy Grail, and by the time he does so, someone’s croaked and our roguish antiques dealer may be next. The new antique (er, a bit of an oxymoron) stuff here is Lovejoy’s apprentice selection process, how to fake a chair, and the joys of trying to date all the women in a small English village–eligible or not.

[Finished 12 March 1995]