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A review by alesia_charles
Early Autumn by Robert B. Parker
4.0
I'm always amazed by how subtle Parker could be via writing that appears to be very simple and transparent. As with poetry, there's a lot going on in the spaces between the words.
But this is an awfully austere story. Hired to protect a mother and son from their ex-husband/father, Spenser decides to save the kid from both of them. The kid literally does nothing with himself but go to school and watch TV: neither of his parents, it seems, have taken the slightest interest in him except as a possession. The way to do this, according to Spenser, is to pressure the kid into developing some strengths of his own, some belief in himself. He also finds out what the kid is interested in doing and makes the parents give it to him.
Simple and hard and bitter. The kid doesn't even know how to be happy, but it is implied that he does learn to walk on his own, emotionally speaking. Maybe happy will come later. There's only so much you can do for a not-quite-sixteeen-year-old.
See what I mean?
But at the same time, Susan Silverman is in this book, and Spenser himself, of course: living (fictional) proof that being tough doesn't require being heartless or unhappy. Hawk's in the book too, being enigmatic in his manfriendship with Spenser as usual.
Yet it's also a more overtly philosophical book than Parker's usual. There's a long conversation between Spenser and the kid, about why the kid's parents are the way they are. Part of Spenser's take is:
There's also people being shot, shot at, beaten up, and threatened. This is a hard-boiled main character, after all, and the kid's father is trying to act like he thinks a gangster is supposed to. Plus Spenser does have his special way of getting into people's faces.
And this is kind of a long review for a book that's only 221 pages long. Read it at your own risk of existential crisis.
But this is an awfully austere story. Hired to protect a mother and son from their ex-husband/father, Spenser decides to save the kid from both of them. The kid literally does nothing with himself but go to school and watch TV: neither of his parents, it seems, have taken the slightest interest in him except as a possession. The way to do this, according to Spenser, is to pressure the kid into developing some strengths of his own, some belief in himself. He also finds out what the kid is interested in doing and makes the parents give it to him.
Simple and hard and bitter. The kid doesn't even know how to be happy, but it is implied that he does learn to walk on his own, emotionally speaking. Maybe happy will come later. There's only so much you can do for a not-quite-sixteeen-year-old.
See what I mean?
But at the same time, Susan Silverman is in this book, and Spenser himself, of course: living (fictional) proof that being tough doesn't require being heartless or unhappy. Hawk's in the book too, being enigmatic in his manfriendship with Spenser as usual.
Yet it's also a more overtly philosophical book than Parker's usual. There's a long conversation between Spenser and the kid, about why the kid's parents are the way they are. Part of Spenser's take is:
"Too much positive is either scared or stupid or both. Reality is uncertain. Lot of people need certainty. They look around for the way it's supposed to be. They get a television-commercial view of the world. ... They spend their lives trying to be what they're supposed to be and being scared they aren't."
There's also people being shot, shot at, beaten up, and threatened. This is a hard-boiled main character, after all, and the kid's father is trying to act like he thinks a gangster is supposed to. Plus Spenser does have his special way of getting into people's faces.
And this is kind of a long review for a book that's only 221 pages long. Read it at your own risk of existential crisis.