ERIC'S BIT or BEE STINGS THEY WERE NOT
Recently I finished re-reading all twenty-one of John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee books. As a mystery reader, you probably already know that McGee lives on a houseboat in Florida and works as a "salvage consultant" who recovers others' property for a fifty percent fee. The novels appeared between 1964 and 1984 and the series was near the end before I discovered it. When I did, John D. MacDonald instantly became one of my favorite authors.
His work was so popular that I was easily able to locate the McGee novels I'd missed at library and garage sales and in used book stores. Then I started to hunt the numerous paperback originals he'd produced during the fifties and early sixties for publishers like Gold Medal. I
must have accumulated a hundred old MacDonald paperbacks in various states of decay, many of the covers featuring young women whose relationship to the story within was as scanty as their clothing.
How popular the McGee books remain with the general public I can't say. Not very, would be my guess. He doesn't fit the modern detective mold. He isn't a loner or an alcoholic. He isn't the product of a dark past nor is he plagued by personal demons. His speech isn't terse, tough and full of wisecracks. Quite the contrary. He is prone to ramble on philosophically, for pages at a time. And he's more likely to deliver a lecture on environmental conservation than on the muzzle velocities of assault rifles. All of which probably precludes any new Travis McGee movie ever being made, more's the pity. (Amazingly there is only a 1970 film starring Rod Taylor and
a television movie that, absurdly, moved the setting from Florida to California)
In one of Lee Child's books, Jack Reacher, breaking into a building, slits the throat of an unsuspecting night watchman. Not a villain. Just an anonymous night watchman. This is the sort of casual violence Travis McGee never engaged in. McGee was not a human killing machine. He used physical force when necessary but it troubled him. He didn't revel in violence, he regretted it.
John D. MacDonald's violence is real, not the cartoon violence we so often read these days. It hurts. It has lasting effects. A MacDonald protagonist does not get shot twice and keep fighting as if he'd suffered a couple of bee stings. McGee needs time to heal. Perhaps in our increasingly brutal era people don't like to be reminded about the reality of violence.
Don't get me wrong, I love modern action and comic book films, but I want something more true to life from time to time, especially from books.
Like his depictions of violence, MacDonald's bad guys are real. Disturbingly so. And horribly human. Not cartoons, so overblown as to be laughable. In more than one book a MacDonald character advances an idea that I believe. That there are human beings who are just plain bad. Without redeeming characteristics. Born bad. Not the result of twisted childhoods. Maybe this utter blackness of the soul is what makes MacDonald's villains so frightening.
Although I was introduced to MacDonald by his most famous creation, his non-Travis McGee books are equally good. Sharply written noir crime novels for the most part, they often had sociological undertones. For one thing he was a sharp observer of the corporate cancer that has metastasized in today's society. In A Key to the Suite, MacDonald describes the corporate gamesmanship and backstabbing leading to murder at a trade convention without ever identifying what the particular corporation produces -- because it doesn't matter, corporate environments being so similar.
Although Travis McGee has received only two movie treatments, MacDonald's 1957 novel The Executioners was filmed twice, as Cape Fear, in 1962 starring Gregory Peck and Robert Mitchum and in 1991 with Robert De Niro and Nick Nolte. I haven't seen either movie and I just finished reading the book for the first time last week. The plot concerns a lawyer and his family being threatened by a criminal he helped put in prison.
What distinguishes the book from modern thrillers I have read is, as with the Travis McGee series, its realism. The family does defend itself by reluctantly resorting to tactics they would never have imagined themselves capable of. However, they do not put on war paint
and turn into superhuman ace marksmen and martial arts experts overnight, as seems to be the norm these days.
Though this is a recommendation of John D. MacDonald's writings, and his Travis McGee series in particular, I admit that today's readers might find the pace of the McGee books too slow and his ruminations could well try their patience. And, yes, from a modern perspective McGee may appear to be a male chauvinist. I prefer to think of him, as he tries to think of himself, as chivalrous.
Who knows, my perspective on MacDonald might say more about me than the actual books. But then that's the beauty of books. We make them so personal.
NECESSARY EVIL or THE BSP TICKER
TWO DEGREES FROM STEPHEN KING or DID WE REALLY SEE THAT?
We live about as far from the world of cinematic extravagancies as it is possible be, so it was especially strange to find ourselves suddenly appearing in a film starring Johnny Depp.
A few nights ago we watched Secret Window, the Depp vehicle based on a novella by Stephen King. At one point his character, a writer, is looking through the June 1995 issue of Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine to locate a story he needed to prove he had not plagiarized a fellow writer. As he flicks through the magazine, to our astonishment we caught a brief glimpse of our names at the head of a page and while we were still boggling, he consulted the index of contents. And there we were with The Obo Mystery, our first short story about Inspector Dorj of Mongolia. So the answer to our headline is yes, we did. Here's the content list for that issue:
http://www.philsp.com/homeville/CFI/t353.htm#BOT
RED-FACED or GET IT RIGHT!
Apologies are due to Gary Hogg, presenter of The Geordie Hour on Radio Tyneside. Last time around we declared it was repeated on Wednesdays at 9 pm, following initial broadcasts at 5 pm Sundays (their time, adjust as necessary for your time zone!). Well, we wuz wrong. Mind, Sunday at 5 pm was right, but the programme is now repeated at 7 pm Wednesday. As we observed at the time (no pun intended) we listen courtesy of the intertubez but several other options are listed here:
https://www.radiotyneside.co.uk/f18/main/pages/howtolisten.php
AN EXCITING THANKSGIVING WEEK or IT ALL MAKES WORK FOR THE WORKING MAN TO DO
Our holiday week could well be described as real life imitating art, for it followed a pattern similar to the story related in the old Flanders and Swann favourite The Gasman Cometh.*
Monday began with smoke and soot on the water heater. Obviously an emergency replacement was needed, but the plumber could not oblige until the chimney had been checked for blockages. Fortuna smiled, for the appropriate expert was able to came on Tuesday. He discovered the outside length of flue was almost choked with rust and had a couple of holes in it. In fact, when he shook it, it came off in his hand! His opinion was it was made of inferior material compared to the inside portion, which he judged to be of excellent quality.
Once the outside part of the chimney was replaced, raised, and strapped securely in place, the plumber was able to out next day to look over the situation, measure the niche where water heater lives, and give us a quote. He was of the opinion it dated from the eighties, when things were built to last. Unfortunately he could not return on Thursday due to the holiday, but arrived on Friday. As it happened, he was already booked to do a local water heater replacement that morning so would already be in the area. He arrived about an hour early as the first job was much easier to accomplish than expected. The householder had not pressed the reset button -- how embarrassing!
His arrival kicked off a series of events reminiscent of the Flanders and Swann classic, except compressed into one afternoon rather than a week. To begin with, he had difficulty emptying the water heater via the usual method of hooking a hosepipe to the heater drain. This meant having to turn off the water to the whole house and draining the water lines. This took 45 minutes to get the task done because the heater had so much sediment in it, one of the disadvantages of living in an area with hard water. As the work continued, it was discovered the gas valve needed replacement, so gas was cut off. Thus no heat and a cold house.
Even so, appliance replacement was now under way!
Onward he forged, detaching a tangle of old copper piping from the heater. Having done that, he realised he could not get it out of its niche. The solution: the vanity sink had to be taken off the little cupboard it perches on in order for both of them to be moved a few feet so the old heater could be hauled away. By which we deduced the vanity was installed after the heater.
The replacement water heater was brought in and it was discovered that although it featured the same 40 gallon capacity as the old one it was wider than its predecessor. At this point we began to wonder if knocking down part of a wall might be in the near future. But we were fortunate, as the new arrival only just fitted into its niche with a couple of inches to spare.
Almost done now, no? No! The brand new gas valve proved to have a part missing but the plumber had the right type in his van. So with a new valve and replacement lines attached and gas and water restored, the heater fired up.
As Flanders and Swann observed all those years ago, household matters of this nature all make work for the working man to do. Once a certain amount of time has passed after dealing with this sort of difficult situation, we're generally able to laugh about all the mess and chaos involved -- but right now a feeble smile is really about all we can raise.
We are now taking predictions on which appliance will conk out next...
* https://genius.com/Flanders-and-swann-the-gas-man-cometh-lyrics
AND FINALLY
We are fast approaching the gate of the year. Before it creaks open to allow 2020 to come down the pike, we'll close with all good wishes for whatever holiday our subscribers celebrate and the same for the endeavours of those who don't. The next Orphan Scrivener will show up in your in-box on February 15th, the twentieth anniversary of its first issue. It hardly seems possible!
See you then!
Mary R & Eric
who invite you to visit their home page, to be found hanging out on the virtual washing line that is the Web at http://reedmayermysteries.000webhostapp.com/ There you'll discover the
usual suspects, including more personal essays, a bibliography, and our growing libraries of links to free e-texts of classic and Golden Age mysteries, ghost stories, and tales of the supernatural. It also hosts the Orphan Scrivener archive, so don't say you weren't warned!
Meantime, our joint blog, largely devoted to reviews of Golden Age of Mystery fiction, lurks about at http://ericreedmysteries.blogspot.com/ Intrepid subscribers may also wish to know our noms des Twitter are @marymaywrite and @groggytales. Drop in some time!
