People who came to Perelman late commonly had difficulty understanding the zeal of earlier converts and, by chance, I could see why; I myself read his books in the wrong order and underwent the strange experience of being somewhat tired of him before I became a fan. A bit too mechanical, I thought of his later stuff.

To my mind almost all his best work is crammed into one volume—Crazy Like a Fox, first published in 1944 but spanning his oeuvre from 1931 to then. This was an awkward belief to hold during his later lifetime, because one didn't want to go about droning, "Don't read his latest." Yet it might have done his reputation a service, as it might many a slipped writer's, and it should certainly be said now….

[Perelman's] literal latest, The Last Laugh, should perhaps be read when you get round to it, but only...