Strangely formulaic, but enjoyable nonetheless. The Surrealist Sportsman's Club whiles away the mind, wagering years on the outcome of cosmological bouts of various gentleman's sport, clinging tightly to the priceless gift of consciousness which distinguishes us from the beasts. ( )

Reread *****
Certainly no regrets about buying a copy, the savoy edition is wonderful and while the novelty wears slightly i enjoyed it so much i'm going to round up anyway.

First Read ****
Surreal comedy. Sort of like a mix of 'Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas' with the 'Adventures of Baron Munchausen'. Its presented as a sequence of short stories covering various events such as a boxing match against a grandfather clock, a play preformed by plants, a football match against Mars etc.
Its quite funny and does manage to hold the attention unlike many other surreal or tall tale stories. Each section is just long enough so the absurdity doesn't have time to get old and each is presented like a real event except for the extraordinary Things which are doing it. So for example the sports stories are all told with a good sports commentary impression. This keeps things from becoming too surreal, which is something i hate. If you go full surreal and have no grounding element then there's simply no sense of stakes and it becomes boring.
I did have a few problems understanding parts of it, the cricket and horseracing in particular, probably as these are not sports i know very well.
I have a feeling if any of the sections (or the book as a whole) was longer the novelty would have worn off along with the entertainment value but as it stands quite enjoyable.

The ebook version doesn't have any drawings i'll have to search about on the net and see what i'm missing. ( )

The narrator first meets Engelbrecht at the Walpurgis Night Witch Shoot, which is just like a duck shoot except that the vicar and choir are the beaters, the loaders are chaplains and instead of ducks, the prey are witches and warlocks. Englebrecht seemed a pleasant enough little chap - a dwarf, of course, like nearly all surrealist boxers who do most of their fighting with clocks."" He and the narrator are sharing "the finest witch stand in England, and they say the splash as the witches plop into the water all round you is the most exciting sound in the world for a witch shooter and one he never forgets."

The Exploits of Englebrecht is a collection of short stories, most of them based on sporting contests organised by the Surrealist Sporting Club. They're all ludicrous and extremely funny. There's Engelbrecht's greatest ever fight, with a Grandfather clock, a golf match that covers the universe and goes on for centuries, a football match against Mars. The narration is deadpan, as though these are the sort of events you'd read about in the daily paper.

I'd be almost certain that The Exploits of Engelbrecht wouldn't qualify as surrealist literature, despite being littered with the term surrealist. Every time I came across the phrase "when he recovered the priceless gift of consciousness" I had to laugh.

I absolutely recommend this extraordinarily funny, madly imaginative book. ( )

Writing a book of nonsense is an easy task: the difficult, nay almost impossible task is to write a good book of nonsense. With Engelbrecht, the dwarf surrealist boxer, Maurice Richardson has demonstrated precisely how to write a good nonsense book.

There are two aspects of 'The Exploits of Engelbrecht' that make it a timeless classic. First of all, and most crucially, Richardson takes his subject matter seriously. Outside of the dialogue, I do not recall a single exclamation mark, and the prose is free of hyperbole. The nonsense that occurs merely occurs, and much passes without judgement. The world, therefore, is real, and we are witnesses to the dark horror of funny things happening that are not considered even remotely funny by any of the marvellous cast of characters - they are events that must be lived through.

The second aspect is the delightful language through which the stories are told. Engelbrecht is unfailingly introduced as the dwarf surrealist boxer, as if, moving from story to story, we might have forgotten who he was. Then there are the little 'cliches' that Richardson invents, such as referring to the 'priceless gift of consciousness'. Every time he recycles such language it is like meeting an esteemed colleague on the street - a joy, in other words.

'The Exploits of Engelbrecht' is not for everyone. I like to think that it appeals most to those of us with the most refined sensibilities (among whom of course I count myself); if you'd like to join the club, we can thank Rhys Hughes for the new Kindle version, and Christopher Fowler for reminding us all of this magnificent writer, in his book 'Forgotten Authors'. ( )