A number of years ago my best friend, who I was living with at the time, recommended I read Robert B. Parker’s Spenser novels. He and his father were both fans, and knowing my sensibilities, he thought I, too, would enjoy them.
He was correct. I picked one almost at random from the bookstore shelf within a few days. I bought many more after that, soon owning nearly the entire series. Time and circumstances prevented me from completing my collection, though, and there remain five I still haven’t read, nor have I read Parker’s Jesse Stone or Sunny Randall novels.
Spenser, for those of you who don’t know, is a Boston-based private investigator who solves crimes with the help of his best friend, a career criminal named Hawk, his life partner, psychiatrist Susan Silverman, and Lt. Martin Quirk and Sgt. Frank Belson of the Boston PD.
Spenser stands somewhat apart from other literary private detectives, at least those from his origins in the 1970s, in that he is very clearly a tough guy who doesn’t fall prey to masculine stereotypes. He understands the equal value of a physical workout and a night at the ballet. He treats women as equals. He’s a gourmet cook. He knows not every crime can be solved with his fists. Spenser, truly, was a thinly-disguised version of Parker himself, with many elements of Parker’s life, from his wife to his dogs, bleeding into his fictional world in one way or another.
Spenser, channeling his creator, is also a razor-sharp wit. Parker’s ability to write dialogue was far and away his greatest strength, and it was a rare case when I didn’t laugh out loud at least once while reading his characters’ words.
Parker loved Boston, too. The locations in his novels weren’t fictional, but were places he himself had visited while writing. It was said that the best thing to happen to a restaurant was for Robert B. Parker to dine there, as its appearance in his books led to a notable bump in business.
Parker’s work was popular for his entire career, starting with the first book, “The Godwulf Manuscript,” in 1973, all the way to “Sixkill” in 2011. The series even spawned the TV show from which I got this blog’s title, starring Robert Urich as Spenser and Avery Brooks as Hawk. While the books became somewhat formulaic as Parker got older, he can be forgiven that, given how many other strengths they had.
Parker died, quite literally, at his writing desk, the way many writers wish they could go. Four books were published posthumously, as well as one he left incomplete. He left behind, it goes without saying, an impressive body of literature and the legacy of an incredible work ethic.
I do intend to read those last five Spenser novels, plus Parker’s other two series. I’ll probably wait until 2021 to so, though. I have, after all, set myself a rather ambitious reading goal for this year.
