Good reads: Robert B. Parker

Enough about things that annoy me, already. Time to talk about things that delight me.

Robert B. Parker delights me.

The author of over 50 novels, Parker is best known for his Boston private detective character Spenser, around whom he’s spun something like 35 novels since 1973. Some have been adapted for the small screen -- you may remember the 1980s TV series Spenser: For Hire starring Robert Urich, or the more recent cable movies starring Joe Mantegna -- but like his contemporary Elmore Leonard, Parker’s material has never had the impact on screen that it does on the page.

That’s because Parker’s detective stories really aren’t detective stories at all. They are explorations of (in no particular order) psychology (Freudian and otherwise), family dynamics, self-deceit, love, loyalty and -- perhaps most of all -- honor. Spenser and his supporting cast -- he has one of the most colorful and entertaining supporting casts in detective fiction -- are all damaged in one way or another, but all share a common thread of trying to redeem their flaws by observing a largely unspoken code of honor. In Spenser’s world, it’s not which side of the law you’re on that determines your worth as a human being -- it’s how you conduct your life, whether it’s with loyalty and courage and honor, or lies and concealment and betrayal.

Fifteen years ago or so, Parker began branching out, interspersing new entries in the Spenser series with stand-alone novels and now two new continuing series. The Jesse Stone novels focus on the police chief of Paradise, Massachusetts, a man of few words and many demons, including alcohol and his emotionally co-dependent ex-wife. The Sunny Randall novels feature female private detective Randall, who’s also still in love with her ex-husband, the only guy in a major Boston crime family to go straight. All three series have distinct tones and narrative approaches, but all share Parker’s supreme gift for snappy dialogue and psychological intrigue. He has also managed to have each protagonist cross over into one of the others’ series at least once, with entertaining results.

Parker’s latest is Now & Then, a Spenser novel, and while I highly recommend it, you won’t be able to fully appreciate it without the context of the 30-some-odd novels that preceded it, as Parker continues to poke around and find new angles to explore themes and events that he’s been percolating for thirty years. My advice is to start with 1973’s The Godwulf Manuscript and read them in order. It’s fun to watch supporting characters get introduced and then reappear over time, to observe how Spenser evolves from a wisecracking self-absorbed male chauvinist to a wisecracking self-aware renaissance man, and to see how neatly Parker pulls off the trick of writing a 35-year series of novels in which the main characters barely age, while lesser ones observe the normal calendar.

Parker is a master. Enjoy.