I didn't know what to expect when I started reading this book, and it's probably better that you don't know, either. So you'll have to decide for yourself whether to read further.
The book is narrated by Michael O'Connor, who's speaking to an audience that the reader isn't at first certain of, telling the story of his life. A successful burglar who's been a criminal for years, he's still quite young. When he's caught and jailed, the book takes a turn that surprised me. The bus taking him to prison is hijacked, and O'Connor's severely injured. He goes into a coma that lasts for four years. When the sleeper wakes, he's in a brave new world.
The courts have ruled that long-term imprisonment is cruel and unusual. Every prisoner in the U. S. is released. Michael has no idea how to deal with the new system, in which he's a "relearner," someone who's supposed to learn to live the straight life. He has a mentor, an ankle bracelet, and many learning DVDs to watch. He appears to be free to come and go and to make his own choices, but that's not quite true, and there are plenty of twists before the final one at the conclusion.
This is an unusual crime/SF novel. There's mystery and suspense, but it's not the standard kind. The book is as much concerned with crime and punishment and rehabilitation as it is with the story. If you're looking for something a little off the beaten track, give this one a try.
The subtitle of this book is A History of American Film Comedy, and Saul Austerlitz sets out to tell us about thirty great comic figures, devoting a chapter to each one. Surely there won't be any argument about his choices. Judd Apatow, anyone? Well, before you start, read the book. Austerlitz makes a case for at least a couple of figures that I'm really pleased to see included. Doris Day, for one. And while there's a chapter on Mel Brooks, Austerlitz thinks he's overrated. 
A couple of years ago, I reviewed Ed Gorman's Sleeping Dogs, a crime novel about political consultant Dev Conrad. I commented at the beginning of the review that I seemed to be reviewing the same books as James Reasoner at about the same time and that I often seemed to feel the same way about the books. Well, here we go again.
I've admitted several times that when I was a kid in the '50s, I really loved the low-end SF digests (Imagination, Imaginative Tales, Amazing Stories, Fantastic, etc.). But my real favorite, the place where I read the stories that really touched me most, was The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. I liked everything about that digest, the stories, the book reviews, even the poetry. I bought five or six volumes of "Best Of" collections from the SF Book Club, and I still have them. That group includes this one, but when I ran across the paperback the other day, I couldn't resist picking it up. The cover, after all, was worth the price.
I didn't know what to expect when I started reading this book, and it's probably better that you don't know, either. So you'll have to decide for yourself whether to read further.
