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xterminal's review against another edition
5.0
Robert B. Parker, Early Autumn (Dell, 1981)
It may still be a little too early in the game to call the Spenser novels some of the great twentieth-century detective fiction. There cannot, however, be any doubt as to the continuing popularity of, and loyalty to, the line of novels written by Robert Parker about the combination renaissance man/gumshoe. Over the twenty-odd years since The Godwulf Manuscript hit the shelves, Spenser fans have accumulated like mosquitoes in a light fixture. We've watched the characters, consistent over the space of more than twenty novels, grow and change, not just reflecting the spirit of the times (go back and read about some of the godawful getups Spenser dressed in in the mid-seventies, and you can easily imagine Spenser himself looking back and saying, "what WAS I thinking?") but reflecting real changes in the characters themselves. Robert Parker has
achieved something remarkable; he has given us a quarter century in the lives of a select few people in real-time (for the most part) without the storyline ever degenerating into soap opera.
Like all types of evolution/natural selection, though, it doesn't all go at a steady stream. Sometimes the changes in characters come in short, uneven spurts. Early Autumn is one of those, and while I can't swear to it, I suspect that this book has probably garnered more fans for the venerable franchise than any other. If there is a definitive Spenser novel, it is Early Autumn.
Spenser is hired by beautiful divorced socialite Patty Giacomin to recover her son Paul, who's been kidnapped by her ex-husband. Spenser finds the job remarkably easy, at least until the ex-husband sends muscle to try and get the kid back again a few months later. Somewhere along the line, Spenser realizes that neither parents cares about the boy, he's just a pawn in a game of spite-the-ex-partner. So Spenser does the only logical thing, takes the boy himself and tries to inject some logic into the chaotic mess of his life.
This novel is one of the rare places where everything comes together perfectly. The history that's been laid out before us in previous Spenser novels is obviously in play, but as in most of the books in the series, the history never overtakes the present storyline. It's there to draw on, though. Parker uses the situation to explore some of what's come before and foreshadow things that come later; we see the beginnings of the strain on Spenser's relationship with Susan that lead to the events a few years on, and we see the real beginnings of the loyalty that has developed between Spenser and Hawk over the past fifteen years (here, they're still hired guns on the opposite sides of a problem, but we also get the idea that Hawk's decisions are made with Spenser in mind). Parker is, of course, at his usual standard of writing, with the expected level of detective-novel wisecracking, lots of references to works of literature, a good deal of food talk, etc. There are few novels that satisfy the way this one does. *****
It may still be a little too early in the game to call the Spenser novels some of the great twentieth-century detective fiction. There cannot, however, be any doubt as to the continuing popularity of, and loyalty to, the line of novels written by Robert Parker about the combination renaissance man/gumshoe. Over the twenty-odd years since The Godwulf Manuscript hit the shelves, Spenser fans have accumulated like mosquitoes in a light fixture. We've watched the characters, consistent over the space of more than twenty novels, grow and change, not just reflecting the spirit of the times (go back and read about some of the godawful getups Spenser dressed in in the mid-seventies, and you can easily imagine Spenser himself looking back and saying, "what WAS I thinking?") but reflecting real changes in the characters themselves. Robert Parker has
achieved something remarkable; he has given us a quarter century in the lives of a select few people in real-time (for the most part) without the storyline ever degenerating into soap opera.
Like all types of evolution/natural selection, though, it doesn't all go at a steady stream. Sometimes the changes in characters come in short, uneven spurts. Early Autumn is one of those, and while I can't swear to it, I suspect that this book has probably garnered more fans for the venerable franchise than any other. If there is a definitive Spenser novel, it is Early Autumn.
Spenser is hired by beautiful divorced socialite Patty Giacomin to recover her son Paul, who's been kidnapped by her ex-husband. Spenser finds the job remarkably easy, at least until the ex-husband sends muscle to try and get the kid back again a few months later. Somewhere along the line, Spenser realizes that neither parents cares about the boy, he's just a pawn in a game of spite-the-ex-partner. So Spenser does the only logical thing, takes the boy himself and tries to inject some logic into the chaotic mess of his life.
This novel is one of the rare places where everything comes together perfectly. The history that's been laid out before us in previous Spenser novels is obviously in play, but as in most of the books in the series, the history never overtakes the present storyline. It's there to draw on, though. Parker uses the situation to explore some of what's come before and foreshadow things that come later; we see the beginnings of the strain on Spenser's relationship with Susan that lead to the events a few years on, and we see the real beginnings of the loyalty that has developed between Spenser and Hawk over the past fifteen years (here, they're still hired guns on the opposite sides of a problem, but we also get the idea that Hawk's decisions are made with Spenser in mind). Parker is, of course, at his usual standard of writing, with the expected level of detective-novel wisecracking, lots of references to works of literature, a good deal of food talk, etc. There are few novels that satisfy the way this one does. *****
brettt's review against another edition
5.0
The best detective and crime fiction has used the characteristics of its genre as a way of thinking about the world and the people in it. Sara Paretsky uses stories about investigator V. I. Warshawski to comment on women's issues, for example, by telling a top yarn about a case Warshawski is working. At several points in his career, Robert B. Parker used a Spenser story to talk a little bit about his philosophy of life, and in Early Autumn maybe a little bit about parenting, too.
Patty Giacomin hires Spenser to watch out for her son Paul, because her ex-husband Mel has tried to take him even though Patty has custody. A couple of thugs make things interesting, and Spenser winds up taking Paul with him to Maine in order to protect him from Mel. In the process he decides to try to educate Paul on how to shape himself as a person, something neither parent seems interested in. But when the situation changes and the parents agree to take Paul back, Spenser realizes he will have to intervene a little more forcefully. He's good at that, but the other players may push him past his boundaries and Paul might end up in the middle of the violent game.
Autumn was Parker's seventh Spenser novel and eighth overall, published in 1980. By then well-polished and still in top form, Parker makes it zip along and loads it with Spenser's quick wit and tough guy action. But the punching and shooting take a back seat to Spenser's intervention in Paul's life, and Parker probably writes more long passages of dialogue in Autumn than in any of his other books. The dismal teen wonders why Spenser makes him do things like learn to work out and build a house, and Spenser explains that he has to teach Paul something, and working out and carpentry are what he knows.
The talkiness and relatively sparse action make some Spenser fans downtick the novel, but for anyone who wants to get one of the clearer pictures of what Parker thinks and the way those thoughts fuel all of his protagonists, it's well worth the time. Admittedly, if he'd tried to write this story during his later doldrums, it would have been hard to bear (and probably called All Our Yesterdays), but this Autumn happens while its author is still in full creative bloom.
Original available here.
Patty Giacomin hires Spenser to watch out for her son Paul, because her ex-husband Mel has tried to take him even though Patty has custody. A couple of thugs make things interesting, and Spenser winds up taking Paul with him to Maine in order to protect him from Mel. In the process he decides to try to educate Paul on how to shape himself as a person, something neither parent seems interested in. But when the situation changes and the parents agree to take Paul back, Spenser realizes he will have to intervene a little more forcefully. He's good at that, but the other players may push him past his boundaries and Paul might end up in the middle of the violent game.
Autumn was Parker's seventh Spenser novel and eighth overall, published in 1980. By then well-polished and still in top form, Parker makes it zip along and loads it with Spenser's quick wit and tough guy action. But the punching and shooting take a back seat to Spenser's intervention in Paul's life, and Parker probably writes more long passages of dialogue in Autumn than in any of his other books. The dismal teen wonders why Spenser makes him do things like learn to work out and build a house, and Spenser explains that he has to teach Paul something, and working out and carpentry are what he knows.
The talkiness and relatively sparse action make some Spenser fans downtick the novel, but for anyone who wants to get one of the clearer pictures of what Parker thinks and the way those thoughts fuel all of his protagonists, it's well worth the time. Admittedly, if he'd tried to write this story during his later doldrums, it would have been hard to bear (and probably called All Our Yesterdays), but this Autumn happens while its author is still in full creative bloom.
Original available here.
theirresponsiblereader's review against another edition
adventurous
emotional
inspiring
reflective
slow-paced
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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This is the least “Spenser”-ish of the Spenser novels, and it’s the most quintessentially “Spenser”-sh. If that’s possible. I’ve probably read it more than any other in the series and probably could’ve written 75% of what I’m going to end up saying here without cracking it open. But why deny myself?
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This is the least “Spenser”-ish of the Spenser novels, and it’s the most quintessentially “Spenser”-sh. If that’s possible. I’ve probably read it more than any other in the series and probably could’ve written 75% of what I’m going to end up saying here without cracking it open. But why deny myself?
I’m going to try to keep this from getting out of control, but no promises.
Please. I have no one else. Please.”
“There’s a qustion whether you need anyone else,” I said, “but I’ll take a whack at it on one condition.”
“What?”
“You tell me your name so I’ll know where the bill gets sent.”
She smiled. “Giacomin,” she said, “Patty Giacomin.”
“Like the old Ranger’s goalie,” I said.
“I’m sorry?”
“Gentleman of the same name used to be a hockey player.”
“Oh. I”m afraid I don’t follow sports much.”
“No shame to it,” I said. “Matter of not being raised properly. Not your fault at all.”
She smiled again, although this time it was a little unsure, as if now that she had me she wasn’t certain she wanted me. It’s a look I’ve seen a lot.
What’s Early Autumn About?
Patty Giacomin comes to Spenser (in a newly relocated office, this will be important a few books from now) for help, her ex-husband has taken their teenaged son in some sort of revenge move. She wants Spenser to get him back. He does so, in possibly the dullest scene in the series (only because it was so easy). This is not the kind of stuff we read P.I. novels for—Paul’s back home by page 30.
Three months later, a stranger attempts to kidnap Paul, but he escapes. Patty hires Spenser to stay with them and protect Paul—and her, after the would-be kidnapper and an accomplice try to break in and take Paul. Spenser interferes with that plan, but Paul’s safe, Patty’s eventually kidnapped by these men, and the exchange is set up, son for mom.
Spenser and Hawk interfere with that plan, and this time it gets a bit more violent. Clearly things are going to keep escalating, so they need another tack. It’s decided that Patty will lie low with a friend for a while, and Spenser and Paul will go out of town until the heat dies down. Spenser had promised to build a cabin for Susan on some property in Maine, so he and the boy head off to do that.
At this point, it’s not just about keeping Paul safe for Spenser. He’s trying to help the kid—trying to push him into being an autonomous person with skills and interests. Angela Duckworth would say that Spenser’s trying to foster grit in Paul, who certainly needs something.
Clearly, Mel Giacomin has some less-than-savory friends/business associates if he can get this kind of help. Spenser moves the bodyguarding to the side and beings investigating—why would Mel be able to find this kind of help? Would knowing this give Spenser the leverage to get Mel out of Paul’s life?
Paul
When we first meet Paul, he’s a sullen, almost affect-less fifteen year-old whose major form of communication is a shrug. He has no interests, few friends, really doesn’t seem to care which parent he’s with, and would rather just sit around watching syndicated reruns all day than worry about any of this. (one can only imagine how a Paul would be written today with hundreds of cable channels, Netflix (and the rest)—not to mention the Internet—rather than the few choices that 1981 TV provides.
When we first meet Paul, he’s a sullen, almost affect-less fifteen year-old whose major form of communication is a shrug. He has no interests, few friends, really doesn’t seem to care which parent he’s with, and would rather just sit around watching syndicated reruns all day than worry about any of this. (one can only imagine how a Paul would be written today with hundreds of cable channels, Netflix (and the rest)—not to mention the Internet—rather than the few choices that 1981 TV provides.
When Spenser starts to teach him to exercise, to box, and to swing a hammer, Paul couldn’t care less about any of it. He goes along because he has nothing better to do (there’s no TV at the cabin) and because Spenser’s not really taking no for an answer. Soon Paul goes along with it because he’s seeing and feeling the results of an active lifestyle.
When Spenser gets ready to investigate his parents, Paul’s more than willing to tag along and help. He’s not a budding P.I., this isn’t Spenser adding a Robin to his Batman. It’s Paul exercising some self-determination. By the end of the novel, he knows who his parents are. He understands their motivations and what they’re like when they’re not being some of the lousiest parents you’ll encounter in print. More than that, he’ll know the kind of man he wants to be and he’ll know how he wants to become that kind of man.
Susan
Previously to now, we’ve seen Susan understand and support Spenser’s work. She may not enjoy it or agree with his methods, but she understands and supports him—even assists him as best as she can (when feasible). But that’s not the case in Early Autumn, she discourages Spenser from following his plan. She’s outright critical about parts of it, and spends most of the novel in one “funk” (Spenser’s word) or another. This case, and Spenser’s approach to it, puts a strain on their relationship, and it’s easy to understand why that is from her perspective (his, too, neither are wrong).
Previously to now, we’ve seen Susan understand and support Spenser’s work. She may not enjoy it or agree with his methods, but she understands and supports him—even assists him as best as she can (when feasible). But that’s not the case in Early Autumn, she discourages Spenser from following his plan. She’s outright critical about parts of it, and spends most of the novel in one “funk” (Spenser’s word) or another. This case, and Spenser’s approach to it, puts a strain on their relationship, and it’s easy to understand why that is from her perspective (his, too, neither are wrong).
While Susan doesn’t seem to come across all that well for much of the book, she does come across as human. She’s not perfect, she’s a little jealous, she’s put out that Spenser will just drop strangers on her front door with no warning claiming to be in danger. But when the chips are down, she pitches in, and eventually embraces Spenser’s mission regarding Paul. In a few years, we won’t see that complex of a reaction from Susan. The character (and the series) will be less for that, so when possible, I’ve got to enjoy it.
Hawk
We get a scene in this book that in my mind we get a lot more than Parker actually wrote (although it does show up in Spener: For Hire a few times), someone has contacted Hawk about a hit on Spenser. Something Hawk would never do, but not too many people know that. It’s a great scene, and Hawk seems to enjoy it more than even I do.
We get a scene in this book that in my mind we get a lot more than Parker actually wrote (although it does show up in Spener: For Hire a few times), someone has contacted Hawk about a hit on Spenser. Something Hawk would never do, but not too many people know that. It’s a great scene, and Hawk seems to enjoy it more than even I do.
He’s not around for much of this book, but when he is, it matters. I don’t think Hawk’s appearances before now have qualified, but I’d say he steals almost every scene he’s in. It’s one of those cases where a supporting character becomes as, if not more, beloved than the series protagonist/central character.
He’s ruthless, he’s dependable, and he does what he thinks is necessary—even when it conflicts with Spenser’s wishes—because he thinks Spener’s soft. Frequently, he lets Spenser’s “rules” get in the way of what he wants to do. But this time, he won’t–because he’s convinced it’ll get Spenser killed, and then Hawk would have to come along and get revenge later. He’d rather cut out the middle stuff and take care of it now. No matter what Hawk, Spenser, and others may say about the two of them being the same. They’re not. And it’s because of things like this.
He’s ruthless, he’s dependable, and he does what he thinks is necessary—even when it conflicts with Spenser’s wishes—because he thinks Spener’s soft. Frequently, he lets Spenser’s “rules” get in the way of what he wants to do. But this time, he won’t–because he’s convinced it’ll get Spenser killed, and then Hawk would have to come along and get revenge later. He’d rather cut out the middle stuff and take care of it now. No matter what Hawk, Spenser, and others may say about the two of them being the same. They’re not. And it’s because of things like this.
The Criminal Investigation
As I said before, it’s obvious that Mel Giacomin is up to something. Upstanding citizens don’t enlist criminal help in a custody case (they wouldn’t know how). Spenser and Paul take very little time or effort (although there is some, helping Paul increase his grit) to uncover enough to send his father to jail—or to blackmail him into supporting Paul’s education while keeping him safe from further abductions.
As I said before, it’s obvious that Mel Giacomin is up to something. Upstanding citizens don’t enlist criminal help in a custody case (they wouldn’t know how). Spenser and Paul take very little time or effort (although there is some, helping Paul increase his grit) to uncover enough to send his father to jail—or to blackmail him into supporting Paul’s education while keeping him safe from further abductions.
It’s a step or two above perfunctory, and it really doesn’t matter. The core of this book is Paul. Paul and his relationship to his parents. Paul and Spenser. Paul starting to think and act on his own behalf, making choices, and being autonomous to whatever degree he can. Parker has to throw in the criminal activity because Spenser’s not Spenser without a villain to thwart. Also, how else would it stay in the genre?
So, what did I think about Early Autumn?
You’ve gotten yourself in a lot of trouble over this, Jack, and don’t you forget it,” he said.
I said, “Name’s Spenser with an S, like the poet. I’m in the Boston book.” I stepped through the door and closed it. Then I opened it again and stuck my head back into the hall. “Under Tough,” I said. And closed the door, and walked out.
I love it. We get the clearest, and most unabashed description of Spenser’s code of honor, code of life, and way of approaching things that we’ll ever get. He’s embarrassed to talk about it to Rachel Wallace, he’ll joke around the truth with others, and he and Susan will cover the same ground ad nauseam. But here he’s trying to pass it on to Paul, even if Paul doesn’t embrace it wholeheartedly, Spenser wants to inspire Paul to come up with his own code, his own guiding principles and the best way to do that is by being open an honest.
We learn so much about Spenser here that it’s essential reading for anyone wanting to understand the character.
I was younger than Paul the first few times I read this book, and I won’t say that it inspired me the same way it does Paul. I can’t say I developed the need for, or interest, in being an autonomous person, or in defining my own moral code. But the novel did inspire me, it made me think about life in a way that most people my age didn’t do (probably still don’t).
I was younger than Paul the first few times I read this book, and I won’t say that it inspired me the same way it does Paul. I can’t say I developed the need for, or interest, in being an autonomous person, or in defining my own moral code. But the novel did inspire me, it made me think about life in a way that most people my age didn’t do (probably still don’t).
The dialogue was snappy, I learned early on that it a shrug shouldn’t be used as an all-purpose method of communication, the action was good (if almost an afterthought), and anything that contains a couple of strong Hawk scenes is worth the read.
This isn’t Spenser at his smartest, his toughest, or even his funniest. But it’s Spenser in the raw, the Platonic ideal of Spenser on display for readers and characters alike.
It’s a great read.
This isn’t Spenser at his smartest, his toughest, or even his funniest. But it’s Spenser in the raw, the Platonic ideal of Spenser on display for readers and characters alike.
It’s a great read.
aoutrance's review against another edition
3.0
Redemption of whiny, annoying teenagers is my favorite. It's just that getting to the redemption is dreary, mind-numbing work.