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Spenser

Created by Robert B. Parker
(1932-2010)

“I try to be honorable. I know that’s embarrassing to hear. It’s embarrassing to say. But I believe most of the nonsense that Thoreau was preaching. And I have spent a long time working on getting myself to where I could do it. Where I could live life largely on my own terms.”
— The Promised Land

Love him or hate him, everybody who gives a tinker’s cuss about detective fiction seems to have an opinion about Robert B. Parker‘s immensely popular (and highly influential) series about Boston P.I. SPENSER (no first name).

Including more than a few less than affectionate nods from some of his fellow detective fiction writers. Sour grapes?

The first four books (The Godwulf ManuscriptGod Save the Child, Mortal Stakes and Promised Land) were a slap in the face of a genre that had had largely lost its way, if not artistically at least, then, commercially. They made a strong impression on those hungry for a successor to the Hammett-Chandler-Macdonald trinity. The books are certainly strong, if somewhat derivative, particularly of Chandler. Not surprising, though — Parker wrote his doctoral dissertation at Boston U. on the three of them. But they’re damn good reads, and introduced an intriguing new gumshoe, one whose success and popularity is still — at this point forty years on — reverberating through the genre.

Spenser’s a real piece of work. A gourmet cook who pumps iron, an ex-boxer who quotes poetry, a sensitive guy who enjoys getting physical. A guy who goes enjoys a fine gourmet meal and a cold mug of beer, preferably in the same place.And he certainly isn’t shy about violence. A true romantic who considers himself a thug for hire and whose closest friend, Hawk, is a former leg breaker for the mob.

Born in Laramie, Wyoming (where Chandler was supposedly conceived), Spenser was delivered by C-section; his mother dying in childbirth. He was raised by his dad and his mother’s two brothers, all three of them carpenters. He eventually left, and ended up in Boston as a private detective. Along the way, he was a boxer, a serviceman in Korea, and a Massachusetts State Trooper, assigned to the DA’s office in Suffolk County. But he had (as he puts it) a bit of problem with authority. Or, as his pal Captain Healy of the State police puts it in Bad Business: “they canned your ass for being an insubordinate fucking hot dog.”

And then, in God Save the Child, he met Susan Silverman, and man, that was he he wrote. Detective fiction was never the same.

Eventually, Parker’s success (books on the bestsellers list and a hit TV show) and his own literary pretensions got in the way. After the overblown, over-long, and overly violent A Catskill Eagle (1985) wherein Spenser chucks his precious  moral and cold-bloodedly killed a couple of people in the process of rescuing Susan. Parker probably lost some readers, about then, and it didn’t help that several of the books in the late eighties and early nineties were little more than padded novellas with phoned in plots, while Spenser, always a bit smug, became an almost unbearable, infuriatingly self-satisfied wiseass, while his pithy back-and-forth with Susan — and the appearance of Pearl the Wonder Dog — had even devoted fans wondering if Parker had lost it.

And yet, and yet…

Even in the weakest novels, there were moments of greatness, and flashes of the old grit and wit. When Parker and Spenser were hitting their stride, there weren’t — and still aren’t –many that could touch them. Even a mediocre Spenser novel is a joy to read. As one friend put it, “the cat had flow.”

Whether his detractors (and they’re numerous) admit it or not, Parker was one of good ones; certainly one of the most popular and influential private eye writers of all time, and has come closer than most of being spoken of in the same breath as Hammett, Chandler, Macdonald and Spillane. Certainly few authors have managed to match the opening salvo of his first four books.

And then, perhaps in defiance of his critics, in the late nineties, Parker came roaring back to life. He started to write standalones (including a well-received YA novel featuring a teenage Spenser) and created three (three!) new series characters (small town police chief Jesse Stone, female private eye Sunny Randall and a very popular Western series featuring town-taming guns-for-hire  Virgil Cole & Everett Hitch). He went from writing a new Spenser every year to cranking out three or four books a year. The writing became leaner, arguably meaner and certainly tighter, and the Spensers became must-reads once again, as though being freed from the yoke of television production allowed Parker to refocus on his writing. Certainly, there was a sense of revitalization going on, and if Parker didn’t always reach the heights of the early novels, Spenser was nonetheless active and vital once again, ticking off bad guys and fighting the good fight, entertaining his multitudes of fans.

Parker made it look effortless and easy, but trust me — writing that well isn’t easy.

As Frederick Nolan said, in 100 Great Detectives, “Spenser is. Take it or leave it.”

TELEVISION

The inevitable television show, Spenser for Hire, was, however, disappointing. Robert Urich, though likable enough as Dan Tanna in VEGA$, was woefully miscast. In the shows, Spenser was just another TV dick with a cool car, more smug than thug; only slightlymore full of himself than most, and his deep fondness for literature was reduced to a few quips nabbed from quotation books. Susan was a cardboard character, easily swapped out for another actress for one season, as though even the producers thought nobody would notice. And every now and then, an attempt was made to incorporate the novel’s sensibilities into the series, usually with dreadful results.

One of the more ambitious episodes, from the third (and final) season, “Child’s Play,” scripted by executive producer Yates, had Spenser in pursuit of a hit man. In the course of the inevitable gun battle, Spenser shoots and kills an innocent boy. The issues of gun control and escalating urban violence are touched upon. They’re just not touched upon enough to matter. And of course, Spenser walks. And the next week, he was blasting away as usual.

“I had killed a child and it would be a long time before the pain and hurt would go away. Not now, but later, in some quiet place I would lay down my gun and grieve for the child who’d never grow old.”

Really?

Still, there were some nice touches. Spenser’s “neat, TV dick car” was a dark, ivy green 1966 Mustang, and the on-location shooting in Boston was a nice change of pace. The writing, when it wasn’t trying so hard to be IMPORTANT, had a nice, Mannix-like vibe to it. And then there was Hawk.

The one thing the shows got right was Hawk. Big, black and menacing, he had more edge in one episode than Urich had in a season. After the series ended in 1988, Avery Brooks reprised his role of Hawk in A Man Called Hawk in 1989, a disappointing use of a good actor and a great role.

As well, the “Play It Again, Sammy” (January 30, 1988) and “McAllister” (April 3, 1988) episodes served as pilots for proposed spin-off series, but neither was picked up. Sammy, played by Sal Viscuso, was a con-man turned sleazy private eye (written by Lee Goldberg and William Rabkin) and McAllister, was a federal prosecutor (Steve Hattman and William Robert Yates wrote that one).

A few years later, Spenser For Hire was brought back in four full-length TV movies for Lifetime, reuniting the original cast, but they only served to tarnish Spenser’s television image further. This go ’round, they didn’t even bother to film in Boston, settling for Toronto instead.

In the late nineties, Parker signed a project deal with A&E to do several more Spenser movies, as well as several films based on his Jesse Stone novels, about a reformed alcoholic LAPD officer who becomes the chief of police for a small island off the coast of Massachusets. The Jesse Stone films, starring Tom Selleck, fared far better than the three Spenser TV movies starring Joe Mantegna. Mantegna was potentially a good choice — he certainly had more acting chops than the affable, but miscast future Love Boat captain Robert Urich. According to Steven Bucci on rec.arts.mystery “[Parker] said that while originally he couldn’t see Spenser being played by Joe Mantegna, he was truly pleased with the final results. He said Joe Mantegna did a very good job in the role, that he felt the movie proved to be the best version of Spenser to date.”

I’m less convinced, mostly because despite Mantegna’s skills, the scripts were so lame that they made barely any difference at all. Mantegna may have been marginally better than Urich, but by that point, who cared? And while Mantegna looked like he might have taken a punch or two in his life, didn’t anyone notice he wasn’t, uh, built like a boxer?

But apparently Spenser’s coming back to the tube. In 2018, it was announced that Netflix was planning to release a string of Spenser made-for-TV movies, with Donnie Wahlberg to star as Spenser, who is now recast as an ex-felon. Is this so Donnie won’t have to shave? It finally reared its head in 2020, as Spenser: Confidential, and so far nobody has asked for a sequel.

SPENSER, POST-PARKER

Many were caught short, when less than two years after Parker’s death in 2010, his publishers announced that journalist and novelist Ace Atkins would be continuing the Spenser series. The responses ranged from “Great! More Spenser!” to “What? Does the widow want new curtains?”

As something of a geek when it camer to Spendser, I confess I was taken aback myself. Atkins had previously written four enjoyable novels about a former footballer turned blues proferssor/amateur sleuth Nick Travers, as well as several acclaimed historical crime novels, but I’d never thought of his writing as being particularly Parkeresque. I just didn’t think he could ever fill Parker’s shoes. I didn’t think he had the chops.

I was wrong. Boy, was I wrong. Atkins’ first spenser novel, Lullaby (2012) was some kind of wonderful; a solid foray into Spenser’s world that a seriously deep knowledge of all things Spenserian. Atkins nailed it — the banter with Hawk, the glib flirtations with Susan, the moral and ethical dilemmas that highlighted Parker’s best work. Not Parker, perhaps, but a few better and reasonable facsimile than I had ever expected.

It turned out that Atkins himself, as revealed in an essay in the Otto Penzler edited In Pursuit of Spenser (2012), was something of a geek himself when it came to Parker, citing him as a personal hero and inspiration, both as a writer and as a man. Not all the books that have followed were as good, but something pretty momentous happened in Kickback (2015), the fourth Spenser novel by Atkins. It opens with Spenser getting a call in the night. Someone is in trouble, a young girl. Spenser grabs his coat and hat, and we’re off. And I realized that all my lingering reservations about the providence of the book, or the justness of another author taking over another man’s characters were gone. I wasn’t thinking Parker. I wasn’t thinking Atkins. All I was thinking was “Spenser’s back! And this is gonna be good.”

And props should be given for Atkins returning Spenser back to his seventies roots, making him a beer guy once more. Even better, though, is that Spenser’s still a smart ass, and still capable of dropping absolute gems of wry observation, like when he describes Lynn, Massachusetts as having all the “charm of both a hipster paradise and London during the war” in Little White Eyes (2017).

Then again, the less said about Silent Night, the 2013 holiday-themed novel allegedly started by Parker and completed by his long-time literary agent Helen Brann, the better.

THE EVIDENCE

UNDER OATH

NOVELS

   

SPENSER NOVELS BY OTHER WRITERS

SHORT STORIES & OTHER BITS’N’PIECES

RADIO

TELEVISION

TELEVISION MOVIES: THE LIFETIME YEARS

After the “hit” series was cancelled, ABC/Lifetime produced four full-length movies starring the late Robert Urich and Avery Brooks reprising their roles as the wisecracking Boston detective and his bad-ass sidekick, taking their plots — for once — directly from Parker’s novels.

TELEVISION MOVIES: THE A&E YEARS

In 1999, A&E took a whack at the franchise, as well, casting Joe Mantegna for three further movies, also all based on Parker novels. They stopped after two, for which we should all give thanks.

TELEVISION MOVIES: NETFLIX 

ALSO OF INTEREST

FURTHER INVESTIGATION

Report respectfully submitted by Kevin Burton Smith. Thanks to Gerald So and Bob Ames for kicking up a bit of enlightenment on this one, and keeping me posted on all manner of things Spenserian. Also, much thanks to our automotive expert, Jason, for helping us spot the Mustang.

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