If your knowledge of British humour begins and ends with Monty Python, or if you think Austin Powers really is British, then this book will be an eye-opener for you. Where the Pythons provide an in-your-face, broad, loud, slapstick experience, Stephen Potter is exquisitely dry and understated. He sets about on the thankless and nearly impossible task of teaching us perfectly ordinary people how to lord it over our peers. Or betters, for that matter. Doctors, for instance, assume a state of instant authority and dominance by the simple act of having us remove our clothes first thing. How to counter this age-old tactic? Arrange for a female acquaintance to call you as soon as you're starkers, and engage in a knee-slapping, ribald conversation. Any doctor will have a hard time meeting your eyes after that call! A salesman should never rush a pen into his client's hand, hoping he'll skip the fine print. Instead, read out loud the most obfuscatory phrases ("whereas the party hereinafter called the copyholders shall within the discretion of both signatories ..."), and have a shared laugh as you both try to figure out what they can possibly mean. It's good form to then pat your pockets, looking in vain for a pen. Done properly, the client will offer his own pen, which of course you'll take home with you.
If you're not used to reading the Queen's English, you'd better have a dictionary (preferably the O.E.D.) close at hand. Despite the passing of half a century, some of these ploys and gambits will be fresh and viable today. Mind you, I should avoid any driving advice given by Plaste, tempting though it may be. Though if you're afraid of heights, then the Art of Not Rockclimbing will suit you to a "t". This is all brilliant stuff, though the connoisseur will prefer the all-in-one volume, "The Complete Upmanship: Including Gamesmanship, Lifemanship, One-Upmanship, Supermanship." Highly, highly recommended.
