Forgotten Books: The Real Cool Killers -- Chester Himes

It's hard to call a book that's included in the Library of America "forgotten," but since it's my blog, I'll just talk about it, anyway.  I first read the Coffin Ed and Gravedigger Jones books in the Avon editions (which I still have, of course) not too long after their publication.  However, I had this Berkley reprint on the shelves, and because it's a lot less brittle than the Avons, it's the one I reread the other day.

The first chapter's a dilly.  I don't think anybody could read the first couple of pages and not want to go on.  The writing is colorful and vivid.  It brings the joint where the action takes place to life.  And then the violence begins.  There's a lot of violence, and it's described in short, sharp bursts.  Pretty quickly we're out on the streets of Harlem and a white man has been murdered.  This draws a crowd.  It also draws Gravedigger and Coffin Ed, two cops who are at least as violent as the criminals they're after.  Maybe more violent.  In mere minutes, Coffin Ed has killed a semi-innocent teen and wounded someone else.  The Real Cool Killers, a teen gang, what's left of them, escape with the actual suspect.

The rest of the novel all takes place in the hours following the murder.  There's more over-the-top violence as Gravedigger pursues the killer on his own, Coffin Ed having been suspended.  Oh, sure, the white cops are involved, too, but they're not exactly geniuses.

The novel is also very funny, believe it or not, in its outrageous way.  There's social commentary, too, though it's not presented in the way you might expect.  Some it is oblique, some a little more direct.  Nothing in the book is politically correct, however, and there are things that current readers might find offensive.  

Since I haven't read the Library of America edition, I don't know if the euphemism "mother-rapers" has been replaced by the real term.  Even when I read the books the first time, I thought "mother-rapers" was just as bad as the phrase it was replacing.

Himes could've used a good editor, and the writing in spots is a bit rough.  It's as if he wrote the book very quickly and didn't do much, if any, revision.  Great stuff, though, and there's a nice ending twist as the last ten or fifteen pages turn everything upside down.  Check it out.

FFB: No Chance in Hell -- Nick Quarry (Marvin H. Albert)

Marvin H. Albert had great pseudonyms.  Can you think of a better one than "Nick Quarry" for a writer of hardboiled p.i. novels in the Spillane vein?  Okay, maybe you can, but "Nick Quarry" sure is a good one.  (Later on, Albert used this for a couple of "In the Tradition of the Godfather" novels for Gold Medal, too.)

The p.i. in this case is Jake Barrow, and a killer is after the daughter of his old war buddy.  The killer has just shot Jake's girlfriend in the stomach.  He's also shot Jake's buddy, and he's going to kill more before he's done.  Jake isn't happy, and he doles out a lot of punishment.  He takes a lot, too.  

One thing you can count on in nearly every Albert novel, no matter the pseudonym, is an extended chase scene, always well done, always detailed.  In this one novel, Barrow is chased into the drain tunnels under New York City.  After he gets in, no one's pursuing him, but he still has to find a way out.  It takes him fourteen pages to do it.  There's another chase at the end of the book, but this one takes place in quite a different setting: Santa Fe.  Albert must have enjoyed doing these scenes, and they're always entertaining.  

There's a lot of violence in this book.  It's the kind of book that blurb writers used to describe  by saying, "Out-Spillanes Spillane!"  I'm sure you get the idea.  There's never a dull moment, and one of the interesting things about it is the basis of the plot.  It's very up to date and might have come from last week's headlines.  Check it out.

Update: I thought I'd bring Lee Goldberg's comment up here in case some of you don't read the comments.  Here it is:  Brash Books is bringing back all of the Albert crime novels and thrillers ... Except for Tony Rome. The rights to the Tony Rome novels are held by 20th Century Fox, which is developing a new TV series version. You can find out more about Brash at www.brash-books.com and we've got a Facebook page up with some of our new book covers.  

Update: The covers are also on Pinterest.  Click here to see them.

FFB: A Forgotten Magazine Issue -- Mystery Scene, Volume 1, Number 2

A few days ago I got an e-mail from someone who used to attend our writing workshops at Alvin Community College. She'd been going through some old magazines and had run across a copy of Mystery Scene Volume 1, Number 2, postmarked December, 1985.  She said she'd opened it up and seen my article on selling the first book in the Sheriff Dan Rhodes series and wondered if I'd like to have the magazine.  You're durn tootin' I would.

I hadn't seen the magazine in years nearly 30 years.  My copy is in deep storage somewhere in the depths of the Cushing Library at Texas A&M University if they haven't given it away.  So naturally I jumped at the chance to see it again.  As soon as it dropped through the mail slot here at Casa de Crider, I tore open the envelope and started turning the pages.  Holy galloping nostalgia, Batman!  It was overwhelming.

For one thing, there's Ellen Nehr's "Murder Ad Lib" column, which includes an interview with Barbara Michaels and Ellen's reviews.  Ellen was a fan right down to the soles of her white tennis shoes and a unique personality. I feel a little sorry for the generations of mystery readers and fans who've come along since her passing and never known her (and her eccentric spelling, sadly absent in the column, thanks to the editors).  She also has a letter in the issue, informing executive editor Ed Gorman that quiche was served at the PWA luncheon at the Bouchercon (which was in San Francisco that year).  "Bill Pronzini was so embarrassed that he grabbed his passport and left for two weeks in England.  Can you blame him?"

William Campball Gault has a report on the Bouchercon, and he writes about running into pulpster and western writer Tommy Thompson in the lobby of the Sir Francis Drake Hotel.  Thompson had no idea that there was a convention in the hotel.  He was there with his wife to celebrate his 50th wedding anniversary.  So, Gault says, he and Thompson "sat in the lobby and dreamed back, boats against the current. . . .  Someone has said recently that nostalgia ain't what it used to be; it is to old pulp writers."  To me, too, and I'm sorry I wasn't in on that conversation.  I was at the convention, and I did get to spend a good bit of time with Gault.  A great guy, and I'd have loved to meet Thompson.

There's a wonderful interview with Knox Burger conducted by Jon White (it first appeared in Paperback Forum, a publication that I also gave to Texas A&M).  Burger reminisces about his days as an editor at Gold Medal and Dell.  Great stuff, just great.  "There was another guy from that time, a wonderful guy, a madman, but very entertaining and a good writer, named William Campbell Gault.  He was a fiesty little guy."  Hmmm.  Where have I heard that name before?

Ed Gorman's article on Dean Koontz calls Koontz "America's most successful least-known-writer."  Geez, could 1985 have been that long ago?  It's hard even to imagine a time when Koontz could've been called a "least-known-writer."

Max Allan Collins has a movie column, which shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone who's read his blog.  He was already and established writer, as the ad in the issue indicates. Barry Gifford writes about discovering Jim Thompson.  And there's a lot more.  Reading this issue was like opening a time capsule, and I wallowed in nostagia for . . . well, I guess I still am.  Wow.  Where are the snows of yesteryear?

FFB: The Drowning Pool -- Ross Macdonald

A long, long time ago, I can still remember . . . .  Well, actually I can't remember the first time I read Ross Macdonald.  I can just remember how impressed I was by the book I'd picked up and  how it made me want to read everything else by the author.  And eventually I did read everything else, or just about everything.  I was so entranced by his writing and that of Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler that I figured I might even be able to talk someone into letting me write a doctoral dissertation on their books.  And I did.  I owe those three guys a lot.

The Drowning Pool (1950) is the second novel to feature private-eye Lew Archer. I have several copies of it, but when I saw one for a buck the other day, I couldn't resist picking it up. And then I figured it might be fun to read it again. It was.

Ross Macdonald was still feeling his way with this one, so the style isn't what it would be come, but The Drowning Pool has the themes that would occupy him for the rest of his career: dysfunctional families, the sins of the fathers setting their children's teeth on edge, the changing face of California (Ross Mac saw the same sorts of things happening there that John D. Mac saw happening in Florida), the conflict of the generations, and the widening gap between the rich and poor.

Lew Archer's client is a woman who's received a blackmail letter. She doesn't want to tell Archer anything about herself or her family, but he takes the job. Working pretty much in the dark, he begins to turn up plenty of secrets that everybody would like to keep covered, secrets that lead to murder. Typically, even when Archer is supposed to be off the case, he keeps on digging. He can never let go until he finds all the answers.

Macdonald isn't as popular now as his progenitors, Hammett and Chandler. Some readers complain that the plots develop too slowly, and The Drowning Pool doesn't have a murder until more than 60 pages have gone by. Macdonald is more interested in setting up the characters than in presenting a murder on the first page. Other readers might find the book a bit dated. It's not, certainly, in its environmental concerns, though the treatment of homosexuality is a bit off-putting to modern eyes. Still, the narrative works just fine for me, pulling me a long as easily as it did the first time I read the book, nearly 50 years ago. There's even some snappy patter that Spenser would envy.

While this book isn't Macdonald's best, it's still quite good. Macdonald could plot, and he could write. It's no wonder that Macdonald remains one of my favorite p. i. writers.

This post originally appeared on 12/24/10, minus the first paragraph, which has been added for this appearance.

PaperBack

Art Bourgeau, A Lonely Way to Die, Charter, 1980

PaperBack

John Tiger (Walter Wager), Death Hits the Jackpot, Avon, 1954

The Devil -- Ken Bruen

You think Jack Taylor's had tough adversaries before? You think things couldn't get any worse? Think again. This time he's not up against just any adversary. He's up against The Adversary. And while some people might like to think it's all a metaphor, there's just no way (unless Taylor's fantasizing the third-person sections of the novel, which I suppose is possible since he could be fantasizing the rest of it, too) that Mr. K is anyone other than old Scratch himself.

Mr. K has it in for Taylor because Jack has occasionally thwarted his little projects in the past, so just when Jack's approaching redemption (he's even quit smoking) and entry into the U. S. of A., Mr. K strikes. Jack's refused entry, and back in Galway, things go really bad. Even worse than before, and if you've read the previous books in the series, you know how bad that is. It's so bad that before it's over, Jack is smoking again. Ireland and the world are in terrible shape, suffering is everywhere, and Jack's determined to set things right.

In spite of all the misery on display, the book's almost jaunty, thanks to Bruen's patented post-modern style. And there's a lot more to like. Bruen can be counted on to mention lots of great music and a lot of my favorite writers. This time he even mentions his own work. Twice. (Jack picks up a DVD of London Boulevard, and someone recommends that Jack read Sanctuary.) I have no idea where Bruen can take Jack after this one, unless Mr. K turns up again, but wherever it is, I'll be there.

One thing. The ending. I'm still mulling that over. I know that Bruen has a doctorate in metaphysics, and whenever I heard that word, I'm reminded of Lord Byron's comment on Coleridge, who, according to Bryon was "explaining metaphysics to the nation -- I wish he would explain his explanation." Maybe someone will explain things to me one of these days.

Blast from the Past -- Toni L. P. Kelner

Tilda Harper writes "where are they now" articles for various entertainment magazines on a free-lance basis. In Blast from the Past, she's invited to the set of Pharos, based on a obscure comic book whose mysterious author has remained unknown for many years. The movie's lead is John Laryea, who once starred in The Blastoffs, a Saturday morning live-action show that lasted only one season.

Tilda's invited to the set because security is being provided by the company owned by the father of her ex-boyfriend. The father seems to hope that Tilda and his son will get back together if they're around each other all the time. The limo driver for the company turns out to be Pete Ellis, Laryea's co-star in The Blastoffs, though no one recognizes him except Tilda.

When Laryea's assistant is killed by someone driving the limo, Pete's the natural suspect. Tilda thinks he's innocent, and she does some amateur sleuthing to find out what really happened. In the meantime, she's also been given the job of tracking down the author of Pharos, which proves to be a tricky task.

You know Kelner must have had fun writing this book because not only does she get to write an entertaining mystery but along the way gets to create both a Saturday morning show from years ago and a comic book. She really fleshes them out and makes them seem real. Someone might offer her a new job after reading this novel. One thing I particularly liked was that the two characters on The Blastoffs are named Sid and Marty.

Blast from the Past is fast and fun. Check it out.

The Science of Paul -- Aaron Philip Clark

Paul Little, ex-con, gives his grandfather a private burial in the opening scene of The Science of Paul. Then Paul and Tammy, a woman who loves and cares for him, return to Philadelphia. Paul completes his probation in a few days, and then things will be fine. Right? Of course not. Paul walks out on Tammy, and things almost immediately start to go bad. And then they go worse. And worse.

Paul thinks that if he can just get out of Philly and back to his grandfather's farm, he can turn his life around. The question is, will he live long enough to do that. The cops are after him for murder, the bad guy is after him for other reasons, and his probation officer's going to revoke his probation.

While all of this is happening, you might think you're reading a straight-forward crime novel, which you are, but it's also a carefully plotted mystery, with things satisfactorily resolved in the end. Well, maybe Paul's case (couldn't resist that phrase, Willa Cather fans), but the mystery aspects are.

New Pulp Press has another winner here. This is good, hardboiled stuff, and Aaron Philip Clark's a guy to watch. Check it out.