Category: Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller Page 151 of 154

The second installment in Stout’s Wolfe/Goodwin series is a great follow-up to Fer-de-Lance, following up the outlandish machinations of the killer in the first novel with s more subtle, psychological criminal. The main characters don’t really develop (ever), but they are honed somewhat as Stout solidifies his vision for the series.

Wolfe is approached by a man carrying both a burden of fear and guilt–back in college, he was one of a group of students (associated only by place of residence) played a prank on an underclassman which resulted in a tragedy leaving the victim crippled. Years later, these students are mostly very successful in their various fields but are bound together by this incident, they have periodically helped their victim in various ways throughout the years until he has found his own measure of success. However, it now seems that he has also taken to exacting his revenge on those he holds responsible, and Wolfe’s prospective client wants the detective to put an end to it. Wolfe sends him away, but is eventually provoked by circumstances, money and, of course, Archie to take up the case — investigating a missing persons case, two deaths, and potentially preventing many others.

Stout’s novels are filled with all sorts of characters–particularly when the clients are committees, as in this novel. Most of the characters (even, occasionally, the villains) are little more than a name and a near-stereotypical collection of behaviors/remarks. But most stories feature a character or two (beyond the regular cast of characters) that really stand out and are memorable. TLoFM features two of these: Paul and Dora Chapin. Paul Chapin is an author of some talent, who was left crippled (physically) after the prank mentioned above, but he seems to have been born with an emotional/psychiatric disability that’s worse than that–the physical injury just makes him even more demented. Contemporary authors might do more with his character, might explore the depths of his depravity more than Stout did, but they wouldn’t do so as effectively. (incidentally, he has to be played by Michael Emerson if they were ever to film this). I really can’t describe his wife without getting into spoiler territory, but the pair are amongst the most memorable of all Stout’s creations.

This is closer to the fully-formed Wolfe novel than Fer-de-Lance, but it’s not all the way there yet. For example, Inspector Cramer was smoking a pipe, not chewing a cigar; the chairs used in the office for the guests are non-descript (now that I’m looking for its first appearance, I’m really missing the red leather chair); and Wolfe uses a top-of-the-line atlas instead of his giant globe to take his fantasy trips away from a complicated case. But we are introduced to what will be mainstays of the series: large crowds assembled in Wolfe’s office a time or two; his very dramatic revealing of the solution to the case; and best of all, the introduction of Wolfe’s rival, foil, colleague, champion, and almost friend–Inspector Lionel Cramer of Homicide.

As with any Stout, there are a few handfuls of lines that deserve quoting and requoting, I really should’ve kept a notebook or something handy to jot them down. As it was, I only got three of them noted:

…with the quarry within reach, the purpose fixed, and the weapon in hand, it will often require up to eight or ten minutes to kill a fly, whereas the average murder, I would guess, consumes ten or fifteen seconds at the outside. – NW

She was following what Wolfe called the Anglo-Saxon theory of the treatment of emotions and desserts: freeze them and hide them in your belly. – AG

I felt uncertain too, when I saw her. They don’t come any uglier…At that she wasn’t really ugly, I mean she wasn’t hideous. Wolfe said it right the next day: it was more subtle than plain ugliness, to look at her made you despair of ever seeing a pretty woman again. – AG

Dusted Off: Valediction

By HCNewton

On January 19, 2010

In Authors, News/Misc., Robert B. Parker, Spenser

Robert B. Parker, author of almost 70 books, died yesterday morning. When I read the news this morning, I was stunned. I knew he was getting up in years, but I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea. A few moments later I was hit by a powerful sense of loss — it was like I’d lost a friend.

Many others have — and will — detail the impact Parker had on American publishing, the development of detective fiction in this country (particularly through the authors he inspired), the relative merits of his work. I just want to talk a little about what he meant to me, haphazardly thrown together.

Since the summer of 1987 (or maybe 1988, I’m not sure) I’ve spent hundreds–probably thousands–of hours with Parker. With the exception of the last two years of work, I’ve read nearly all of his books multiple times–many countless times. Each year in college (while I was single, anyway), after my last class on Friday before President’s Day weekend I’d say goodbye to the world and read through the Spenser series in order–this was back before he branched out to other detectives–and many other times throughout the year I’d turn to Parker and Spenser if I needed a good read. And then he brought us Sunny and Jesse (and the Westerns, the baseball book, and the YA novels)–even more sources of enjoyment.

There’s really only one other fiction writer I’ve spent more time with–and I bet it’s a close race. More than once when I needed sanctuary from the world, I’d retreat to Parker. When I needed a comfort read, a quick read, something to break me out of a slump, or when there was a new volume published–and many other times, Parker’s world and words were there. In between those covers was a home away from home, members of my extended family and friends.

Sure, in recent years, I’ve been disappointed, even annoyed by some of his work — but I’m always back for the next go ’round, eager to forgive and forget and move on. Usually, I’ve been rewarded for that–even in his most problematic output, he could bring a smile to my face with a turn of a phrase. I’m so looking forward to the last three (I think) books coming out this year (even if I’m really sick and tired of the Cole/Hitch series, I’ll eagerly snap it up)–but I can’t imagine a year where more of my bookshelves aren’t occupied with 3+ new volumes with his name on them.

I owe Dr. Parker a deep debt of gratitude for the impact he’s made on my life, my thinking, for some great stories, essentially for some great times.

But perhaps what Parker was best at creating were characters that were well-rounded, flawed (but not irredeemably so), basically, human (not that all of his characters fit this, many were more thinly drawn than a stick figure). So for all the characters great and small, like Virgil Cole, Everett Hitch, Martin Quirk, Frank Belson, Rita Fiore, Chollo, Henry Cimoli, Joe Broz, Tony Marcus, The Grey Man, Spike, even Sunny and her family, Rosie, Pearl (both of them), Suitcase, Molly, Jesse, Paul Giacomin, Susan, Hawk (naturally), and most of all, for Spenser, I want to thank you, Dr. Parker.

You will be missed.

Dusted Off: The Mermaids Singing by Val McDermid

By HCNewton

On January 13, 2010

In Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

I’ve been watching (read: obsessing over) the BBC’s Wire in the Blood over the last couple of weeks, and but haven’t been terribly inclined to read the source material — which is more than a little odd for me, I normally have to immerse myself in that kind of thing. Something about the stories and the way they were being told kept me from it. On the whole, I’m not a big serial killer fiction kind of guy–I’ll dip into that type of thing occasionally, but generally if it’s from an author I follow (I’m a little more inclined to handle the subject on TV than I am in movies or in print, but even then…)It was an aside in a blog entry by Lee Goldberg, contrasting TV series adapted directly from books vs. those based on the character/franchise that gave me the necessary push. I thought I knew what he was getting at, but wanted to see it in practice.

The Mermaids Singing is the first installment in the novel series (which was also the first story adapted for TV), the setup is essentially this: Detective Chief Inspector Carol Jordan and her the Assistant Chief (who’s name I can’t recall atm because the book’s already back at the library) are convinced that a series of murders are the work of a serial killer, despite the outright (and seemingly blind) hostility Jordan’s immediate supervisor has to the idea. The Asst. Chief recruits a local psychologist, Dr. Tony Hill, to work out a profile of the killer–luckily, he’s heading up a nationwide task force to profile killers of this sort in an effort to help the police. Jordan’s assigned to liaise between Hill and the investigation. As they work together, the two recognize kindred spirits and a shared idea for how a profiler can best assist the police in their investigations (both for this case and others), and a friendship–and partnership–develops between the two.

McDermid’s point of view keeps jumping from character to character — primarily between Hill and Jordan, with a handful of supporting characters getting their moment in the sun — with journal entries from the killer in between chapters. Normally I’m not crazy about this technique, but on the whole, I thought it worked here — particularly as a way of focusing on the two methods of tracking the killer: the police procedure (seen through Jordan’s eyes) and the psychological profile (Hill’s). Hopefully as the series progresses we lose the voice of the killer, while we see Jordan’s and Hill’s voices become stronger.

The killer’s work is highly sexual in nature, but not even the densest copper needs Hill to tell him that. McDermid makes a lot of hay along these lines — almost, but not quite, going overboard. Not just with the killer’s sexual problems, but with one of her protagonists as well. The thematic link here worked well, but I hope that’s not something that’s dwelled upon in future installments.

It’s not an equal partnership, by any means, Jordan’s in the driver’s seat, and she’s not too intimidated or outclassed by Hill’s expertise. I think a little of that is lost in the TV series, where it almost seems that the detectives are but means for Hill to gather information that they are clueless when it comes to interpreting. In fact, it’s solid police work that saves the day–police work guided by the profile, no doubt, but police work nonetheless.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, I think I see what Goldberg was talking about: as an adaptation, the TV show captured the essence of the core of characters, and did a fantastic job of bringing 85+% of the novel to screen. The changes in plot were small, and the one new character introduced helped the adaptation into a better set up to an ongoing series than the novel did. That character also toned down the least appealing feature of Hill’s character, making him palatable to TV.

As a novel, it worked well (even without reference to the TV series), the relationship with Hill and Jordan will easily lead to further cases together, and character development. McDermid’s style, and the cleverness of her plot, definitely create a desire to see further adventures with the pair, and it’s easy to see why this is a series that’s lasted over a decade.

Dusted Off: Secondhand Smoke by Karen E. Olson

By HCNewton

On January 12, 2010

In Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

As I mentioned last week, when reading over my list of ’09 reads, I couldn’t recognize one title, Karen E. Olson’s debut, Sacred Cows, and that I felt incredibly guilty about that. So I picked up the second installment in her Annie Seymore mysteries this weekend to assuage that guilt. It didn’t take too long to get re-immersed in Annie’s world, I’m glad I did.

Olson’s focus isn’t on the case, it’s not about the mystery for her. This is Annie’s story–it’s about what happens to her (and those around her) while she investigates/reports on this case.

Annie Seymore is a single woman, pushing 40; a life-long resident of New Haven, CT; and a newspaper reporter getting tired of it all (I look really forward to seeing how that progresses in further novels in particular–especially in light of all the industry troubles). This particular novel finds her between relationships–still dealing with the detrius of her last as she begins her next. While reading, I thought Olson focused too much on that, but in retrospect, I think I was wrong. Not sure why it struck me that way.

Of course Annie has her share of family issues (who doesn’t?). She has a strong relationship with her father–who seems to have some connections with certain nefarious types. Things with her mother are more strained–an upstanding member of the community, lawyer, who happens to be dating the new publisher of Annie’s paper.

Oh yeah, the mystery, can’t forget that–a neighborhood institution, an Italian restaurant, burns down on Thanksgiving across the street from Annie’s apartment. A body is found inside, but the building collapses before the firemen can retrieve it. This sets off a domino effect involving illegal gambling, animal rights protesters, the Mob, the FBI, and of course, Annie and her circle.

This book did have the misfortune of being the book I started within the same hour that I finished Val McDermid’s rather intense, The Mermaids Singing, so I spent the first 75-100 pages thinking how lightweight it was. True, comparitively speaking, it is–but that’s a good thing, Annie’s not Tony Hill or Carol Jordan, and the world’s better off that she isn’t. A good, fast-paced, entertaining read–definitely coming back for more.

Dusted Off: Fer-de-Lance by Rex Stout

By HCNewton

On January 7, 2010

In Authors, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin, Rex Stout

Rex Stout’s Fer-de-Lance is the first of 40+ books (novels or short story collections) featuring the exploits of private investigator Archie Goodwin (2 parts Huck Finn, 1 part Philip Marlowe) and his eccentric employer, Nero Wolfe (1 part Sherlock Holmes, 1 part Mycroft Holmes)–yes, I am one of those who think that Archie’s the main character in the mis-nomered Nero Wolfe Mysteries.

In reading about Rex Stout/Nero Wolfe (either by fans or professionals) there’s an oft-quoted line from Walter D. Edmonds that you simply cannot avoid seeing, “I shall never forget my excitement on reading Fer-de-Lance, sprung like Athena perfect form the Jovian brow, fresh and new and at the same time with enough plain familiar things in scene and setting to put any reader at his ease.” Aside from Oliver Wendell Holmes’ margin note (“This fellow is the best of them all.”), there’s nothing that sums up Fer-de-Lance better, sprung like Athena indeed.

It really doesn’t matter how many times you’ve read it, but upon re-reading (and probably even initial reading if this isn’t your first encounter with Wolfe and Archie–my initial read was more than 20 years ago, so I don’t remember) you can’t help be struck by how much Fer-de-Lance fits the model of a mature Wolfe novel–almost all the elements are there. These characters are introduced in practically their final format–a little tweak here and there over the course of the first few novels (off the top of my head I can’t say how many) will get them in their final form, plus the addition of a few other characters will be necessary, but the cast of characters is already over 90% complete. In the first chapter we already have Wolfe, Archie, Fritz, Theodore, Fred and Saul presented in a manner fully recognizable to the familiar reader. The story follows a fairly typical route (‘tho the identity of the murderer is revealed far earlier than is the norm), and the essential environmental elements are there–the beer, Wolfe’s eccentric schedule, the orchids, a relapse, the food, a cocky scheme to land a client, an outrageous stratagem for getting that last essential piece of evidence (not that Wolfe needs it to solve the crime, merely to prove he was correct)–the only thing missing is the gathering of the witnesses/suspects/clients for Wolfe to reveal everything in his characteristically dramatic fashion. One recurring thought I had while reading it this time was that this could just as easily have been the fifteenth installment in the series as the first.

As I don’t recall reading about Stout consulting notes–and he’s known not to rewrite any part of these stories–the fact that he can keep all the idiosyncrasies he establishes here well-intact over the next 40 years is a testimony to his mental prowess as much as anything else could be. (Contrast Stout to contemporary authors who find themselves re-writing their own protagonist’s biographies thanks to their refusal to check their facts/fix errors).

Enough of that–what about the book itself? Wolfe takes a small case as more of a favor/indulgence/get-him-off-my-back to one of his operatives and in doing so, stumbles upon a fact or two that leads him to conclude that a university president has been murdered in a preposterous manner. Seeing (and seizing) the opportunity to earn a large fee from this, Wolfe sends Archie to place a $10,000 bet with the District Attorney responsible for the area the president died in–wagering that an exhumation of the body will produce two particular evidences of homicide. No bet is made, but since it’s Nero Wolfe suggesting it, the body’s dug up, the evidence found and we’re off…

A fun read, a decent mystery (Stout will get better at this), great characters, and a good introduction to a wonderful world fit for revisiting over and over again.

Dusted Off: The Ides of April

By HCNewton

On April 15, 2009

In Calendar Items, Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin, Quotations

which means it’s time for me to post this quote again.

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

Dusted Off: The Little Sleep

By HCNewton

On March 17, 2009

In Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

Paul Tremblay‘s debut novel, The Little Sleep, not only sports a eye-catching title, but a premise that’s just as intriguing.

Obviously, the title’s supposed to get the reader thinking of noir classic, The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler–so one expects the lone-wolf, tougher than nails, sardonically witty gumshoe typified by Philip Marlowe. But Tremblay’s protagonist, Mark Genevich, has one challenge his predecessors in the genre doesn’t have…he’s a narcoleptic. So he’s falling asleep, hallucinating and losing control of his body and the most inconvenient times (for Genevich, anyway…the occasionally seem a convenient deus ex machina to get Tremblay out of a scene).

Initially, the book didn’t do much for me–had a hard time caring for Genevich or his problem, his client, and the early chapters seemed a little too erratic. But I hung in there, and eventually, Genevich explains his disorder enough that you can accept the bouncing-around nature of the first chapters. I’m still not sure how sympathetic Tremblay ever makes him, but you do at least start to want him to figure out what’s going on–which is close enough.

I remember when I started working the graveyard shift (I guess 3^rd shift is the term we’re supposed to use now), I had a lot of days where I couldn’t be sure that I wouldn’t fall asleep w/o warning–in a theater, during a slow after-dinner conversation, on the road(!)–and I recognized the embarrassment, anger and confusion Genevich displayed. No matter what precautions he took, the very real danger of waking in a different place or his body not acting like he intended always loomed large. I’m assuming Tremblay has no first-hand knowledge of the disorder, but he sure acts like he does.

Genevich’s path to solving this particular case follows many of the typical hardboiled paths, but he cannot travel those paths like his forefathers because of his disorder. Unlike with Monk, Genvich’s problem is never fodder for humor–unlike Monk’s OCD, which would’ve been very easy, and probably very entertaining. Tremblay sticks to the high road, however, resulting in a deeper, probably more satisfyingk, read.

Dusted Off: Exactly what I’d Write if I was Erudite

By HCNewton

On January 12, 2009

In Authors, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin, News/Misc., Rex Stout

Terry Teachout’s blogpost today, “Forty years with Nero Wolfe” is one of those posts I really wish I could’ve written.

Give it a read, hopefully Teachout can convince you to pick up Wolfe. Outside The Bible, a handful of Reformed and Puritan writers, Stout’s the only author I’d recommend to every person I know w/o a disclaimer or a second thought.

Dusted Off: Happy Birthday, Archie!

By HCNewton

On October 23, 2008

In Calendar Items, Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin, Quotations

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 Picinic)

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 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 one more great line 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.

Dusted Off: Chasing Darkness by Robert Crais

By HCNewton

On July 9, 2008

In Authors, Elvis Cole/Joe Pike, Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller, Robert Crais

I was able to steal 10 minutes here and there, and was able to finish Elvis Cole’s latest adventure. This is the best Cole in years (The Watchman, technically a Joe Pike novel, doesn’t count).

Pike is Pike (Hawk to the 3rd power); Elvis is still the less-funny, more-broody of the later novels; the nameless cat is still the nameless cat, and the regular supporting cast is at least mentioned.

The status remains quo with Elvis’ relationships with Carol and Lucy. Elvis won’t let go of Lucy, who is trying to distance herself from him (with a degree of success). Carol’s still hung up on Elvis, but seems in more control of her emotions. I’ve liked Starkey in every one of her appearances, this time, perhaps more than others.

Crais was near the top of his game when it came to plotting–I suspected the culprit early on, but it was still well plotted. What appealed to me most about this was that what drew Elvis into the case wasn’t something in his personal history, a friend’s past, Pike’s past, etc. Yes, there was a historical draw–but it was professional, making this a case of Elvis finishing a job, not exploring what made him who he is today, etc.

The ending was also pleasantly small. There was no apocalyptic battle between Elvis, Pike and several gunmen, or whatever. A simple, solid resolution. Yes, something that resonated, something that read well and contained the requisite suspense…just not an ‘end of the world’ scenario.

Sadly, have to wait another year for the next installment–but am sure it’ll be worth it.