Satire on foreign correspondents in a fantastic tale of one William Boot, accidentally thrust into the limelight as foreign correspondent to cover a reputed war in some imagined African country. It was all a matter of confusion of identity -- but Boot thought himself elected, and went, a victim to every suggestion, and a success only through his own stubborn inertness, once on the spot, and his abortive love affair with a stranded tart. He makes the headlines on a fluke -- is a nine day wonder -- and then escapes into anonymity again, leaving another possessor of the name of Boot to take his cloak of glory. Absurd picture of an African village over--run with foreign correspondents, virtually forcing an unwanted civil war upon them, and a satiric commentary on the methods of English journalism. One expects some subtlety in the barbed pen of Evelyn Waugh. This seems dully obvious, a sort of forced and brittle cleverness, with passages of real humor almost lost in the heavy-farce of much of it. Seems to us limited in sales appeal.