The Magnificent
Seven- Potshot-A Spenser Crime Novel by Robert B. Parker-A
Review
Book Review
By Sam Lowell
Potshot, Robert B. Parker,
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, New York, 2001
Of late I have been on
something of a Spenser crime detection novel run, you know those sagas of the
Boston-based P.I. with the big burly physique and the no nonsense
grit and determination to see a case through to the end, the bitter end if necessary,
written by the late Robert B. Parker. I started out several reviews of those
books by explaining that most of the year when I review books I review
high-toned literary masterpieces or squirrelly little historical books fit for
the academy. I also said that come summer time you never know will turn up on
your summer reading list and why. So blame this run on the summer heat if you
must. I confessed that like any other heated, roasted urban dweller
I was looking for a little light reading to while away the summer doldrums.
Then I went into genesis about how I wound up running the rack, or part of the
rack, after all there were some forty Spenser books in the series before Parker
passed away in 2010. I will get to the review of his 2001
effort Potshot in a minute after I explain how I came to read
yet another Parker crime novel for crying out loud.
See, as I have mentioned
elsewhere of late in reviewing some of the other Parker-etched books every year
when the doldrums come I automatically reach for a little classic crime
detection from the max daddy masters of the genre Raymond Chandler or Dashiell
Hammett from my library to see the real deal, to see how the masters worked
their magic, in order to spruce up (and parse, if possible) my own writing.
This summer when I did so I noticed a book Poodle Spring by
Raymond Chandler and Robert B. Parker. This final Philip Marlowe series book
was never finished by Chandler before he died in 1959. Parker finished it up in
1989.
Robert B. Parker, of
course, had been a name known to me as the crime novel writer of the Spenser
series of which I had read several of the earlier ones before moving on to
others interests. That loss of interest centered on the increasingly
formulistic way Parker packaged the Spenser character with his chalk board
scratching to my mind repetition of his eating habits, his culinary likes and
dislikes, his off-hand racial solidarity banter with his black compadre Hawk,
his continually touting Spenser’s physical and mental “street cred” toughness
and his so-called monogamous and almost teenage-like love affair with Susan.
They collectively did not grow as characters but became stick figures serving
increasingly less interesting plots.
Checking up on what Parker
had subsequently written in the series to see if I had been rash in my judgment
I noticed and grabbed another Chandler-Parker collaboration or sorts reviewed
in this space previously Perchance To Dream: Robert B. Parker’s
Sequel To Raymond Chandler’s The Big Sleep. Since I was on a roll, was
being guided by the ghost of Raymond Chandler maybe, I decided to check out
Spenser again. And because we still have several weeks left of summer and crime
novels have the virtue of not only being easy on the brain in the summer heat
but quick reads I figured to play out my hand a little and read a few other
Parker works. Now we are all caught up on genesis.
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