I can’t tell you when this became a (largely) annual thing for me to post, but it was on a blog that pre-existed this one. As always, seems like a good day to post it.
Category: Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin Page 2 of 6
My annual tribute to one of my favorite fictional characters (if not my all-time favorite). I’ve got to do an overhaul to this soon, but it is slightly updated and tweaked from last year.
On Oct. 23* in Chillicothe, Ohio, Archie Goodwin entered this world—no doubt with a smile for the pretty nurses—and American detective literature was never the same. He’s the narrator (and, I’d argue protagonist) of the questionably named Nero Wolfe mysteries. While the eccentric and overweight genius might be what brings people to the series, it’s Archie’s wit, attitude, and snappy narrative voice that brings people’s back.
* About 34 years ago, no matter what year it is that you read this.
Since I was in Middle School, if I was suffering a slump of any kind (reading, emotional, physical), time with Archie Goodwin could get me out of it. There were a few years that when I got sick, I’d grab a Nero Wolfe novel to help me get through it (along with the Vitamin C and Chicken Noodle soup), and you can’t tell me it didn’t work. Noted critic Jacques Barzun says it well:
If he had done nothing more than to create Archie Goodwin, Rex Stout would deserve the gratitude of whatever assessors watch over the prosperity of American literature. For surely Archie is one of the folk heroes in which the modern American temper can see itself transfigured. Archie is the lineal descendant of Huck Finn.
While Archie’s about as far from a teetotaler as you can get, to commemorate his birthday, I’m toasting him in one of the ways I think he’d appreciate most—by raising a glass of milk in his honor.
Who was Archie? Archie summed up his life like this:
Born in Ohio. Public high school, pretty good at geometry and football, graduated with honor but no honors. Went to college two weeks, decided it was childish, came to New York and got a job guarding a pier, shot and killed two men and was fired, was recommended to Nero Wolfe for a chore he wanted done, did it, was offered a full-time job by Mr. Wolfe, took it, still have it.” (Fourth of July Picnic)
Long may he keep it. Just what was he employed by Wolfe to do? In The Black Mountain he answers the statement, “I thought you was a private eye” with:
I don’t like the way you say it, but I am. Also, I am an accountant, an amanuensis, and a cocklebur. Eight to five you never heard the word amanuensis and you never saw a cocklebur.
In The Red Box, he says
I know pretty well what my field is. Aside from my primary function as the thorn in the seat of Wolfe’s chair to keep him from going to sleep and waking up only for meals, I’m chiefly cut out for two things: to jump and grab something before the other guy can get his paws on it, and to collect pieces of the puzzle for Wolfe to work on.
In Too Many Women, he’s a bit more concise and describes himself as the:
heart, liver, lungs and gizzard of the private detective business of Nero Wolfe, Wolfe being merely the brains
In Black Orchids, he reacts to an insult:
…her cheap crack about me being a ten-cent Clark Gable, which was ridiculous. He simpers, to begin with, and to end with no one can say I resemble a movie actor, and if they did it would be more apt to be Gary Cooper than Clark Gable.
Over at The Thrilling Detective, he’s described this way:
If Goodwin hadn’t gone to work for Wolfe, he’d certainly have his own agency by now (and temporarily does, in one novel). Far more of the traditional eye, Goodwin is a tough, handsome guy with a photographic memory, a .32 under his well-tailored suit (and sometimes an extra .38 in his overcoat pocket), and a well-developed appreciation for the ladies. And, in the opinion of more than a few cops, officials and stuffed-shirt executives, a mouth that ought to be nailed shut permanently. (Wolfe isn’t immune either – part of Goodwin’s job, as he sees it, is needling the fat man into taking cases, if only to make sure the bills get covered.) He’s not the deductive genius that Wolfe is, but a smart and tenacious op with a good right hook, and a decent and personable man. Most of all, in his narration of the books, he’s a helluva storyteller; it’s his view of the world, and his interaction with Wolfe, that keeps us coming back for each new mystery.
The Archie Goodwin FAQ is less succicnt but does a good job of laying out the facts.
I’m not the only Archie fan out there:
- Someone pointed me at this post, The Wit and Wisdom of Archie Goodwin. There’s some really good stuff here that I was tempted to steal, instead, I’ll just point you at it.
- Robert Crais himself when writing an introduction to a Before Midnight reprint, devoted it to paying tribute to Archie—one of the few pieces of anything written that I can say I agree with jot and tittle.
In case you’re wondering if this post was simply an excuse to go through some collections of Archie Goodwin quotations, you wouldn’t be totally wrong…he’s one of the fictional characters I like spending time with most in this world—he’s the literary equivalent of comfort food. So just a couple more great lines I’ve quoted here before:
I would appreciate it if they would call a halt on all their devoted efforts to find a way to abolish war or eliminate disease or run trains with atoms or extend the span of human life to a couple of centuries, and everybody concentrate for a while on how to wake me up in the morning without my resenting it. It may be that a bevy of beautiful maidens in pure silk yellow very sheer gowns, barefooted, singing “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” and scattering rose petals over me would do the trick, but I’d have to try it.
I looked at the wall clock. It said two minutes to four. I looked at my wrist watch. It said one minute to four. In spite of the discrepancy, it seemed safe to conclude that it would soon be four o’clock.
Description:I shook my head. “You’re flattering me, Inspector. I don’t arouse passions like that. It’s my intellect women like. I inspire them to read good books, but I doubt if I could inspire even Lizzie Borden to murder.”
She turned back to me, graceful as a big cat, and stood there straight and proud, not quite smiling, her warm dark eyes as curious as if she had never seen a man before. I knew damn well I ought to say something, but what? The only thing to say was ‘Will you marry me?’ but that wouldn’t do because the idea of her washing dishes or darning socks was preposterous.
“Indeed,” I said. That was Nero Wolfe’s word, and I never used it except in moments of stress, and it severely annoyed me when I caught myself using it, because when I look in a mirror I prefer to see me as is, with no skin grafted from anybody else’s hide, even Nero Wolfe’s.
If you like Anglo-Saxon, I belched. If you fancy Latin, I eructed. No matter which, I had known that Wolfe and Inspector Cramer would have to put up with it that evening, because that is always a part of my reaction to sauerkraut. I don’t glory in it or go for a record, but neither do I fight it back. I want to be liked just for myself.
When a hippopotamus is peevish it’s a lot of peeve.
It was nothing new for Wolfe to take steps, either on his own, or with one or more of the operatives we used, without burdening my mind with it. His stated reason was that I worked better if I thought it all depended on me. His actual reason was that he loved to have a curtain go up revealing him balancing a live seal on his nose.
It helps a lot, with two people as much together as he and I were, if they understand each other. He understood that I was too strong-minded to add another word unless he told me to, and I understood that he was too pigheaded to tell me to.
I always belong wherever I am.
 |
The Misadventures of Nero Wolfe: Parodies and Pastiches Featuring the Great Detective of West 35th Streetby Josh Pachter, ed. Kindle Edition, 364 pg. Read: April 15-27, 2020 |
Wow—2 chances to talk about Nero Wolfe in less than a month? Say what you will about 2020, there are some really nice things going on, too.
In the same vein as the 2018 compilation that he co-edited, The Misadventures of Ellery Queen, Pachter (with the blessing of Stout’s daughter), Pachter presents just what the title promises: a collection of short pieces featuring takes on Nero Wolfe (and, generally, Archie Goodwin).
There are three introductory essays—one by Otto Penzler; one by Stout’s daughter, Rebecca Stout Bradbury; and then one from Pachter (which served as a typical introduction). All three of these pieces were a pleasure to read, but obviously, Bradbury’s is the standout for sentimental reasons.
Then we move into pastiches, although some felt more like parodies to me—but why quibble? The first entry just didn’t work for me, and almost put me off the project as a whole. But, it’s Wolfe, so as much as I say “almost”—there’s no chance that’d stick. Thankfully, the second entry more than made up for it, as did the rest. A personal highlight came from Pachter reprinting the first chapter of Murder in E Minor, Robert Goldsborough’s first Wolfe novel—I appreciated the reminder that I did really like his work at one point. (I wish something from William L. DeAndrea’s Lobo Blacke/Quinn Booker books had made it in here)
The next section featured a handful of parodies. By and large, I enjoyed this part, but I would’ve appreciated a bit more subtlety with many of the works. The story “Julius Katz and the Case of Exploding Wine” was simply fantastic—I will be tracking down more of these stories by Dave Zeltserman as soon as I can (I have a browser tab open at the moment for an e-store with the collections).
The final section, “Potpourri,” was my favorite. It included things like a story about a circus’ Fat Woman doing a fine Nero Wolfe impression (and was a pretty clever story even without that); Pachter’s short story about a young man named for Wolfe, “Sam Buried Caesar,” which was utterly charming; and a scene from Joseph Goodrich’s stage adaptation of Might as Well Be Dead. The highlight of this section (and possibly the entire book) was a little story called “The Damned Doorbell Rang,” about a couple who used to live next to Wolfe’s Brownstone on West 35th (obviously on the opposite side from Doc Vollmer), who didn’t realize who they lived next to, nor appreciate the goings-on in the brownstone. An inspired idea that was executed wonderfully.
As with almost every compilation ever assembled, there were a lot of high highs and very low lows in this one—and most readers will likely disagree with what I’d put in either category. But I can’t imagine any Wolfe reader not finding more than enough in this book to consider any time spent with it a win. The writers all clearly had fun with the subject matter, and it’s infectious. Pachter has speculated about doing another collection of Wolfean tidbits. If he does, I know I’ll be more than ready to grab it.
For a lot more about the book—the background, more information about some of the entries/authors/whatnot—check out Episode 10 of Like the Wolfe podcast. It’s a fun episode.
This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.
Most of what I’ve written about Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin and their author Rex Stout predates this blog, but I’ve not hid the fact that I’m a near-rabid fan, and will take any excuse to mention them. So imagine my excitement when a few weeks ago, someone joined one of the fan groups on Facebook and mentioned he had a podcast working through the Corpus.
Like the Wolfe is working their way, book by book, through series starting with the first, Fer-de-Lance (something I wrote about it, their podcast episode). Typically, there’s a little bit of material that’s safe for someone who hasn’t read the book under discussion, but most of the episode is full of spoilers and assumes a familiarity with the material.
Which honestly, is fine—few Wolfe and Archie fans read (or re-read, re-re-read, re-re-re-re-read, etc.) the books for the whodunit.
In the first few episodes, the audio quality isn’t that great and the hosts are clearly learning how to do a podcast. But those shortcomings actually come across as charming, and their enthusiasm is infectious. By Episode 8-The Silent Speaker, the audio quality has really improved and the hosts have obviously become comfortable with the format.
I binged the first 9 episodes in under a week, and had a blast. Sure, I’d quibble with some of the observations and would demur with some of their evaluations/criticisms—but that’s part of the fun, right?
Anyway, I’ve blathered on long enough—the hosts, Reyna Griffin and Jeff Quest, were gracious enough to answer a few questions for me. Check these out, and then go listen to their podcast. If you’re new to Wolfe, it’s a great introduction (Quest himself is a newbie), if you’re a die-hard fan, you’ll love revisiting the books (if you’re in between—give it time, you’ll become a die-hard). If you have no idea what I’m talking about? Give the books a shot, and use this podcast to help (I also blathered on a bit about the idea here).
| Why don’t you both start off by giving me a little bit of background info about you as readers/in general? Introduce yourselves to us—and how did you get to know one another? I’m guessing it wasn’t via a Craigslist advertisement, “Looking for a Co-Host for a Nero Wolfe Podcast.” (do note, out of respect for the character that brings us together, I didn’t abbreviate advertisement—I just can’t bring myself to do it anymore) | ||
|
||
| What brought each of you to the Nero Wolfe series? Was it a recommendation from someone? Just stumbling across one in a bookstore? Did you mean to buy a book about Orchid Growing and get a very poor substitute? For me, it was an aunt who insisted I’d like them—she eventually got tired of me ignoring them and just handed me a couple of them (I believe it was Where There’s a Will and something else), and that was it. Three decades later and I’m still re-reading them. | ||
|
||
| Why a podcast? Whose idea was it and how did it come about? | ||
|
||
| What kind of response are you getting to these episodes? | ||
|
||
| * I’d note that I’m one of those riled up by that, Archie has noted that only three men refer to him by his first name. That’s a personal bugbear, and I don’t hold it against them (however must I grimace when I hear it).
One more question about the podcast itself—are we going to ever get to hear your “Lost Episodes” (Some Buried Ceasar, Over My Dead Body, Where There’s a Will, Black Orchids, Not Quite Dead Enough, Booby Trap—I assume Black Orchids is around the corner, given that you did Cordially Invited to Meet Death)? |
||
|
||
| Let’s shift to the books themselves: Jeff, you’re the neophyte (by the way, I’d love to be in your shoes and have all these great reads in my future—they’re great re-reads, but for them to be new again?), so what’s your favorite Wolfean moment so far? Reyna, I don’t know if you can limit yourself to just one at this point (especially without ruining anything for Jeff), so maybe give me one from the books you’ve discussed on the podcast. | ||
|
||
| * Great moment indeed, but it’s from The League of Frightened Men, the second novel (which Quest has mentioned enough on the podcast that I was surprised he slipped here).
You’ve both talked about enjoying Wolfe’s vocabulary. I know that my vocabulary (in writing and in conversation) improves generally when I’m in the middle of a Wolfe novel have you found that? Reyna, this is more likely for you (but Jeff can weigh-in if he wants): do you have a favorite Wolfean word/phrase? How many of them have entered your day-to-day vocabulary? Personally, off the top-of-my-head, I use “flummery” quite often; I can’t type it any other way than, “Pfui,” (and typically pronounce it like that); and will go out of my way to not use “contact” as a verb (and have been told I scowl when people do so at work). ? |
||
|
||
| You talked a little about casting Arche in your Introduction to him, and you’ve suggested actors for other prominent characters. But aside from a little tongue-in-cheek (I presume) casting that I couldn’t hear in your The League of Frightened Men episode, I don’t think I’ve heard you suggest anyone for Wolfe. My current picks for him are Vincent D’Onofrio or Steve Schirripa (assuming he can lose the Brooklyn accent), what about you? | ||
|
||
| Bauer is an inspired choice—Radcliffe’s not bad, either, I can see that working.
Thanks for your time—and thanks for the podcast, I’m thoroughly enjoying it. |
||
|
While reading these posts on Bookidote, beforewegoblog, and The Witty & Sarcastic Bookclub, I noticed myself mentally composing this list—so I figure I had to join in the fun. I’d have posted this last week, but my free laborer realized how little he was getting paid and decided to play video games instead of generating my graphic.
Naturally, I only paid half of his fee.
Enough of that, bring on the Autumn! (even if it feels like Winter here in Idaho):
In Fall, the air is crisp and clear. Name a book with a vivid setting.
The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles by Julie Edwards
I had a hard time coming up with something for this one, honestly. But Whangdoodleland was so vivid that I can still picture parts of it, despite having read it only once in the last 30+ years.
Nature is beautiful…but also dying. Name a book that is beautifully written, but also deals with a heavy topic, like loss or grief.
A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness
When I posted about it, I said, “I’m not convinced that this is really all that well-written, technically speaking. But it packs such an emotional wallop, it grabs you, reaches down your throat and seizes your heart and does whatever it wants to with it—so who cares how technically well it’s written? (and, yeah, I do think the two don’t necessarily go together). A couple of weeks from now, I may not look back on this as fondly—but tonight, in the afterglow? Loved this.” I still look back on it as fondly, for the record.
Fall is Back to School Season. Name a Nonfiction Book that Taught You Something.
Timekeepers: How the World Became Obsessed With Time by Simon Garfield
If I’m going to read a non-fiction book, it had better teach me something or I’ll end up ranting about it for days/weeks/months! This one popped to mind, though. In my post about the book, I said: “Did I learn something from the book? Much more than I expected to. The chapter on the French experiments alone probably taught me enough to justify the whole book. I didn’t/couldn’t stick with the details of watch-making (I have a hard time visualizing that kind of detail), but even that was fascinating and informative on the surface. Most topics broadened my understanding and taught me something. Also, the sheer amount of trivia that I picked up was great (the amount of time spent recording the first Beatles LP, why pop music tends to be about 3 minutes long, etc., etc.).”
In order to keep warm, it’s good to spend some time with the people we love. Name a fictional family/household/friend-group that you’d love to be a part of.
The Household of Nero Wolfe from the books by Rex Stout
(yeah, that picture is from the A&E TV show, not exactly the books—but in that image in particular, they look just about perfect)
There were many families/groups/households that I could’ve picked for this, but that Brownstone on West 35th Street is near the Platonic ideal for a place to live—I’d love to spend time with Mr. Wolfe, Archie and Fritz (not to mention Saul, Fred, Orrie, Lily, Lon . . .)
The colorful leaves are piling up on the ground. Show us a pile of Autumn-colored spines.
(I thought this was going to be hard, but in the end, I had to not make the pile bigger!)
Also…wow, clearly, I’m not a photographer. It’s a shame I don’t live closer to my pal, Micah Burke, things around here would look much spiffier.
Fall is the perfect time for some storytelling by the fireside. Share a book wherein somebody is telling a story.
A Plague of Giants by Kevin Hearne
That’s really 90% of the book—a bard telling stories. How he pulls this off, really impressed me.
(Hammered by Kevin Hearne would also qualify, but I liked the storytelling in this one better)
The nights are getting darker. Share a dark, creepy read.
Darkness Take My Hand by Dennis Lehane
This one disturbs me every time I read it (4-6 I think), I still remember having to sleep with the lights on after I stayed up reading it until 2-3 in the morning the first time—I doubt I was a very good employee the next day. (Sacred maybe is creepier, but this is the better book by Lehane)
The days are getting colder. Name a short, heartwarming read that could warm up somebody’s cold and rainy day.
Wonder by R. J. Palacio
The “short” in the category is the sticky wicket. But this is a quick read (even if the page number is higher than I’d count as “short.” Formulaic? Yup. Predictable? You betcha. Effective? Abso-smurfly. Textbook example of heartwarming.
Fall returns every year. Name an old favorite that you’d like to return to soon.
Magic Kingdom for Sale — SOLD! by Terry Brooks
Ive been thinking about this book a lot since Bookstooge’s Quick Fire Fantasy post. Gotta work this into the 2020 reading schedule.
I’m tagging any blogger who reads this. Play along.
My annual tribute to one of my favorite fictional characters (if not my all-time favorite). I’ve got to do an overhaul to this soon, but it is slightly updated and tweaed from last year.
On Oct 23 in Chillicothe, Ohio, Archie Goodwin entered this world—no doubt with a smile for the pretty nurses—and American detective literature was never the same.
I’m toasting him in one of the ways I think he’d appreciate most—by raising a glass of milk in his honor.
Who was Archie? Archie summed up his life thusly:
Born in Ohio. Public high school, pretty good at geometry and football, graduated with honor but no honors. Went to college two weeks, decided it was childish, came to New York and got a job guarding a pier, shot and killed two men and was fired, was recommended to Nero Wolfe for a chore he wanted done, did it, was offered a full-time job by Mr. Wolfe, took it, still have it.” (Fourth of July Picnic)
Long may he keep it. Just what was he employed by Wolfe to do? In The Black Mountain he answers the statement, “I thought you was a private eye” with:
I don’t like the way you say it, but I am. Also I am an accountant, an amanuensis, and a cocklebur. Eight to five you never heard the word amanuensis and you never saw a cocklebur.
In The Red Box, he says
I know pretty well what my field is. Aside from my primary function as the thorn in the seat of Wolfe’s chair to keep him from going to sleep and waking up only for meals, I’m chiefly cut out for two things: to jump and grab something before the other guy can get his paws on it, and to collect pieces of the puzzle for Wolfe to work on.
In Black Orchids, he reacts to an insult:
…her cheap crack about me being a ten-cent Clark Gable, which was ridiculous. He simpers, to begin with, and to end with no one can say I resemble a movie actor, and if they did it would be more apt to be Gary Cooper than Clark Gable.
I’m not the only Archie fan out there:
- A few months back, someone pointed me at this post, The Wit and Wisdom of Archie Goodwin. There’s some really good stuff here that I was tempted to steal, instead, I’ll just point you at it.
- Robert Crais himself when writing an introduction to a Before Midnight reprint, devoted it to paying tribute to Archie—one of the few pieces of anything written that I can say I agree with jot and tittle.
In case you’re wondering if this post was simply an excuse to go through some collections of Archie Goodwin quotations, you wouldn’t be totally wrong…he’s one of the fictional characters I like spending time with most in this world–he’s the literary equivalent of comfort food. So just a couple more great lines I’ve quoted here before:
I would appreciate it if they would call a halt on all their devoted efforts to find a way to abolish war or eliminate disease or run trains with atoms or extend the span of human life to a couple of centuries, and everybody concentrate for a while on how to wake me up in the morning without my resenting it. It may be that a bevy of beautiful maidens in pure silk yellow very sheer gowns, barefooted, singing “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” and scattering rose petals over me would do the trick, but I’d have to try it.
I looked at the wall clock. It said two minutes to four. I looked at my wrist watch. It said one minute to four. In spite of the discrepancy it seemed safe to conclude that it would soon be four o’clock.
Description:I shook my head. “You’re flattering me, Inspector. I don’t arouse passions like that. It’s my intellect women like. I inspire them to read good books, but I doubt if I could inspire even Lizzie Borden to murder.”
She turned back to me, graceful as a big cat, and stood there straight and proud, not quite smiling, her warm dark eyes as curious as if she had never seen a man before. I knew damn well I ought to say something, but what? The only thing to say was ‘Will you marry me?’ but that wouldn’t do because the idea of her washing dishes or darning socks was preposterous.
“Indeed,” I said. That was Nero Wolfe’s word, and I never used it except in moments of stress, and it severely annoyed me when I caught myself using it, because when I look in a mirror I prefer to see me as is, with no skin grafted from anybody else’s hide, even Nero Wolfe’s.
If you like Anglo-Saxon, I belched. If you fancy Latin, I eructed. No matter which, I had known that Wolfe and Inspector Cramer would have to put up with it that evening, because that is always a part of my reaction to sauerkraut. I don’t glory in it or go for a record, but neither do I fight it back. I want to be liked just for myself.
When a hippopotamus is peevish it’s a lot of peeve.
It was nothing new for Wolfe to take steps, either on his own, or with one or more of the operatives we used, without burdening my mind with it. His stated reason was that I worked better if I thought it all depended on me. His actual reason was that he loved to have a curtain go up revealing him balancing a live seal on his nose.
It helps a lot, with two people as much together as he and I were, if they understand each other. He understood that I was too strong-minded to add another word unless he told me to, and I understood that he was too pigheaded to tell me to.
I always belong wherever I am.
Witty and Sarcastic Book Club tagged me in her little creation—a tag based on Universal’s Classic Movie Monsters. There’s a lot of recency bias in my pics, but oh well—I liked the list. I really need to do more things like this, it was fun.
While trying to come up with the last couple of entries for this, I took a Facebook break and read a couple of posts on a Nero Wolfe fan group, and realized I could fill my blanks from that Corpus. Then it occurred to me that I could do one of these with entries only from the Nero Wolfe series. Or, the Spenser series. Huh. (I’d have trouble with some other series depending how you define “sequel” below). Watch me control the impulse.
Dracula: a book with a charismatic villain
My Pick: Gotta go with Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs, every other charismatic villain I can think of pales in comparison.
Bonus Nero Wolfe Pick: (yeah, so much for restraint—this was a fun additional challenge) Paul Chapin in The League of Frightened Men (my post about the book)
Bonus Spenser Pick: The Gray Man in Small Vices
The Invisible Man: A book that has more going on than meets the eye
My Pick: The Last Adventure of Constance Verity by A. Lee Martinez (my post about the book)
Bonus Nero Wolfe Pick: Even in the Best Families
Bonus Spenser Pick: Early Autumn
Wolf-Man: A complicated character
My Pick: Doc Slidesmith in Needle Song (my post about the book)
Bonus Nero Wolfe Pick: Can I just use Nero Wolfe? Eh, Orrie Cather in A Family Affair
Bonus Spenser Pick: Patricia Utley in Mortal Stakes
Frankenstein: A book with a misunderstood character
My Pick: The Luidaeg in The Unkindest Tide by Seanan McGuire (my post about the book)
Bonus Nero Wolfe Pick: Over My Dead Body (my post about the book)
Bonus Spenser Pick: Hawk, A Promised Land
The Bride of Frankenstein: A sequel you enjoyed more than the first book
My Pick: Stoned Love by Ian Patrick (my post about the book)
Bonus Nero Wolfe Pick: The League of Frightened Men (yeah, that’s the second time this shows up, but it’s the sequel…) (my post about the book)
Bonus Spenser Pick: God Bless the Child
Creature from the Black Lagoon: An incredibly unique book
(there’s a better cover now, but this is the first)
My Pick: A Star-Reckoner’s Lot by Darrell Drake (my post about the book)
Bonus Nero Wolfe Pick: Some Buried Ceasar (my post about the book)
Bonus Spenser Pick: A Savage Place
The Mummy: A book that wraps up nicely (see what I did there?)
My Pick: Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire (my post about the book)
Bonus Nero Wolfe Pick: This applies to almost every one of them, I’m going to go with The Doorbell Rang
Bonus Spenser Pick: The Judas Goat
I’m not going to tag anyone, but I’d encourage any reader to give it a shot. I’d like to see your lists.
Also, I’ve been thinking for awhile I needed to do a re-read of the Spenser series. This post has convinced me I really need to get on that.
seems like a good day to post this…
A man condemning the income tax because of the annoyance it gives him or the expense it puts him to is merely a dog baring its teeth, and he forfeits the privileges of civilized discourse. But it is permissible to criticize it on other and impersonal grounds. A government, like an individual, spends money for any or all of three reasons: because it needs to, because it wants to, or simply because it has it to spend. The last is much the shabbiest. It is arguable, if not manifest, that a substantial proportion of this great spring flood of billions pouring into the Treasury will in effect get spent for that last shabby reason.
–Nero Wolfe
from And Be a Villain
My annual tribute to one of my favorite fictional characters (if not my all-time favorite).
On Oct 23 in Chillicothe, Ohio, Archie Goodwin entered this world–no doubt with a smile for the pretty nurses–and American detective literature was never the same.
I’m toasting him in one of the ways I think he’d appreciate most–by raising a glass of milk in his honor.
Who was Archie? Archie summed up his life thusly:
Born in Ohio. Public high school, pretty good at geometry and football, graduated with honor but no honors. Went to college two weeks, decided it was childish, came to New York and got a job guarding a pier, shot and killed two men and was fired, was recommended to Nero Wolfe for a chore he wanted done, did it, was offered a full-time job by Mr. Wolfe, took it, still have it.” (Fourth of July Picnic)
Long may he keep it. Just what was he employed by Wolfe to do? In The Black Mountain he answers the statement, “I thought you was a private eye” with:
I don’t like the way you say it, but I am. Also I am an accountant, an amanuensis, and a cocklebur. Eight to five you never heard the word amanuensis and you never saw a cocklebur.
In The Red Box, he says
I know pretty well what my field is. Aside from my primary function as the thorn in the seat of Wolfe’s chair to keep him from going to sleep and waking up only for meals, I’m chiefly cut out for two things: to jump and grab something before the other guy can get his paws on it, and to collect pieces of the puzzle for Wolfe to work on.
In Black Orchids, he reacts to an insult:
…her cheap crack about me being a ten-cent Clark Gable, which was ridiculous. He simpers, to begin with, and to end with no one can say I resemble a movie actor, and if they did it would be more apt to be Gary Cooper than Clark Gable.
I’m not the only Archie fan out there:
- A few months back, someone pointed me at this post, The Wit and Wisdom of Archie Goodwin. There’s some really good stuff here that I was tempted to steal, instead, I’ll just point you at it.
- Robert Crais himself when writing an introduction to a Before Midnight reprint, devoted it to paying tribute to Archie. — one of the few pieces of anything written that I can say I agree with jot and tittle.
In case you’re wondering if this post was simply an excuse to go through some collections of Archie Goodwin quotations, you wouldn’t be totally wrong…he’s one of the fictional characters I like spending time with most in this world–he’s the literary equivalent of comfort food. So just a couple more great lines I’ve quoted here before:
I would appreciate it if they would call a halt on all their devoted efforts to find a way to abolish war or eliminate disease or run trains with atoms or extend the span of human life to a couple of centuries, and everybody concentrate for a while on how to wake me up in the morning without my resenting it. It may be that a bevy of beautiful maidens in pure silk yellow very sheer gowns, barefooted, singing “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” and scattering rose petals over me would do the trick, but I’d have to try it.
I looked at the wall clock. It said two minutes to four. I looked at my wrist watch. It said one minute to four. In spite of the discrepancy it seemed safe to conclude that it would soon be four o’clock.
Description:I shook my head. “You’re flattering me, Inspector. I don’t arouse passions like that. It’s my intellect women like. I inspire them to read good books, but I doubt if I could inspire even Lizzie Borden to murder.”
She turned back to me, graceful as a big cat, and stood there straight and proud, not quite smiling, her warm dark eyes as curious as if she had never seen a man before. I knew damn well I ought to say something, but what? The only thing to say was ‘Will you marry me?’ but that wouldn’t do because the idea of her washing dishes or darning socks was preposterous.
“Indeed,” I said. That was Nero Wolfe’s word, and I never used it except in moments of stress, and it severely annoyed me when I caught myself using it, because when I look in a mirror I prefer to see me as is, with no skin grafted from anybody else’s hide, even Nero Wolfe’s.
If you like Anglo-Saxon, I belched. If you fancy Latin, I eructed. No matter which, I had known that Wolfe and Inspector Cramer would have to put up with it that evening, because that is always a part of my reaction to sauerkraut. I don’t glory in it or go for a record, but neither do I fight it back. I want to be liked just for myself.
When a hippopotamus is peevish it’s a lot of peeve.
It helps a lot, with two people as much together as he and I were, if they understand each other. He understood that I was too strong-minded to add another word unless he told me to, and I understood that he was too pigheaded to tell me to.
I always belong wherever I am.
80 years ago today, Archie Goodwin — one of my top 5 All-Time Favorite Characters — met the only woman who could keep his attention for more than a few months, Lily Rowan. Lily shows up several times in the series and threatens to steal every scene she appears in (and frequently succeeds). Check out this post from Today in Mystery Fiction for the details — one of my favorite scenes, from one of my favorite books in possibly my favorite series — (I think I have 3 or 4 copies of it), so I had to say something.
How they met 80 years ago, when Archie’s only in his mid-30’s, is beyond me. But Math was never my strong suit, I’m sure it makes sense, surely Charlie Epps (or Larry or Amita) could explain it to me.