Much has already been made of this book’s background and how it came to be rediscovered, a languishing lost gem ripe for republication, both in the Introduction by the publishers, Nicholas Towasser, and in other press and reviews, notably Stewart Home’s blogged review. This would suggest that there’s little more to be said on the matter, but the text’s history – it was originally published in 1935, but essentially sunk without a trace – is integral to our reading of it. Or is it?

The narrative tone of Bob Moore, a Scot who, as a qualified engineer spent years travelling aboard ships of all sizes and under an array of (often incompetent) captaincies, and finding himself in strange places and tight situations, is amiable and accessible. More saliently, the vocabulary seems, on the surface, to be of its time. There’s no swearing and nothing is described in particularly graphic detail, for example, and the text is littered with the names of places and currencies that have long since changed.

Yet there is something strange about the book. Some of the Scots dialect seems a little incongruous. Similarly, while the voluminous footnotes that provide explanations of both place names (many of which Moore confuses or uses alternative spellings for) and technical notes on engineering are often useful, others, which provide lexical definitions, are rather superfluous. Moreover, their presence locates the book within the realms of annotated academic versions of historical texts, in which the meanings and etymologies of antiquated words, no longer in use, are explained for the benefit of a contemporary audience. I should perhaps point out that I’m by no means complaining, for many of the editorial interjections are highly informative, while many others are most amusing.

But irrespective of the questions regarding narrator’s ‘authenticity,’ there’s no question that Don’t Call Me a Crook! is a highly entertaining read. Moore isn’t a crook, although he is unquestionably a rogue, as much by accident or through naivete as by design. The events are presented sequentially, and as such Moore seems to drift and stumble from one place and one situation to the next, trusting all of the wrong people as he does so. However, the chapters and subchapters are short and serve to render the narrative as much a succession of largely unrelated episodes, and Moore certainly doesn’t learn from his mistakes. This episodic structure makes for a book that’s easy to leave and return to without too much fear of having lost the continuity of the plot: however, the accessible style and pace of action makes it a book that’s easy to read fairly swiftly. Moreover, despite his shortcomings, Moore makes for a personable travel companion, and his (mis)adventures are recounted in a style that’s straightforward, direct and unpretentious, and there are plenty of humourous scenes and colourful characters along the way.

It isn’t a million miles away from Jack Black’s You Can’t Win (a favourite of mine and also cited as a significant influence on William Burroughs’ early works), which is to say that I thoroughly enjoyed it, and applaud Dissident Books and Nicholas Towasser for putting it out. Don’t Call Me a Crook! is a gem, and it deserves to not be a lost one.

And if you’re loving my work, there’s more of the same (only different) at Christophernosnibor.co.uk