On the inside back cover of All Wind and Pistol, we find, as is standard in hardback novels, a short biography of the author. Roger Butters, it says, ‘practised as a solicitor until he took early retirement in order to pursue his many interests, which include Buddhism, karate, aviation and dinosaurs’. Pistol, his lead character, can best be described as belonging to the latter category.

Readers of Shakespeare will be familiar with ensign Pistol – he makes his first appearance in Henry IV, Part 2. Butters precedes that entrance with something of a backstory to the character. We are treated to what is described as nothing more than ‘a hilarious account of his adventures… with the action moving rapidly from one farcical situation to another, much in the manner of a Carry On movie or an episode of Blackadder’, or so the advertising blurb would have us believe. Sadly, it fails to attain the dizzy heights of its preferred comparators, but sits perhaps more gamely in that genre often referred to as ‘Moll Flanders meets Benny Hill’.

The story is based in the fourteenth century and the author attempts to write in the language of the day, with lots of Ofts and Good Morrows.

Pursued by creditors, Pistol must find a job and stay out of trouble. Though he succeeds in the first – finding employ as a royal spy – he singularly fails in the latter, finding himself facing duels, the stocks and romantic shenanigans.

It is quite clear that Pistol is a somewhat arrogant, deluded and rather conceited individual – in the style of the time, a braggart. With the book written from his perspective, it is the job of the reader to read between the lines and see what is actually unfolding before him – a classic ‘unreliable narrator’ touch. On occasions, this is somewhat laboured, but that said, the comedy – and there is much of it – is to be found in Pistol’s misreading and misunderstanding of every situation. While this is a popular technique, in this novel it works extremely well.

A delightful example of this is when Pistol spends the night with, arguably, the love of his life and cannot understand why she becomes annoyed when he leaves money in the morning for ‘her services’. ‘I had expected her to pocket the fee with thanks and a promise of repeated favours. Instead, to my utter astonishment, the foul-tempered strumpet flew at me with both hands, scratching my face and screaming abuse.’

While not exactly subtle, this gives a taste of the writing and of the man. This is not perhaps a book for the delicate, but that said it is a likeable (albeit tongue-in-cheek) yarn full of thrills and spills, with the odd twist or two thrown in. All wind and pistol it certainly is, but well worth a place in a Christmas stocking.

Jason M Hadden is a solicitor-advocate