Happy New Year, Herbie & other stories

Happy New Year, Herbie & other stories by Evan Hunter
Published by Pocket Books 1963

Salvatore Albert Lombino wrote under several pseudonyms, the most well-known being Ed McBain, creator of the 87^th Precinct series. Evan Hunter was the name he used for his more mainstream and literary work, this collection included. I state that fact merely to inform potential readers, not to deter those who have a knee-jerk reaction to the “L” word. Hunter was an excellent writer, and this is a fine collection of his short work.

While the stories lean distinctly in the direction of literary fiction, many of them have at least one foot in genre. The Tourists comes awfully close to being a horror tale, we get a little crime with The Prisoner, science fiction with The Million Dollar Maybe, and fantasy in The Fallen Angel. The 12 stories presented here are all radically different in tone and subject, and reading them straight through doesn’t reveal a formula or give a sense of repetition.

The best tale in the collection is also the first and longest, titled Uncle Jimbo’s Marbles. It tells the story of a young counselor at a summer camp who, having signed up along with his girlfriend so that they can spend the summer together, finds himself stranded on the opposite side of the river from his beloved when the boys camp is quarantined during a polio scare. The camp becomes obsessed with the game of marbles, specifically winning the titular ones from Uncle Jimbo, the champion player at the camp.  The story is lighthearted and funny, and eventually quite touching. The tone and voice of the first person narrator reminded me of Max Schullman’s Dobie Gillis.

This is simply a wonderful collection of stories, and should encourage fans of McBain to seek out more work by Hunter.       

The Only Girl in the Game

The Only Girl in the Game by John D. MacDonald
Published by Gold Medal 1960

This behind-the-scenes drama set in a Las Vegas casino could have easily become soapy melodrama in a lesser writer’s hands, but here is turned into a tense and absorbing tale of love and greed.

Though filled with a large number of characters, each with their own story, the central narrative involves hotel manager Hugh Darren, entertainer Betty Dawson, and oil-rich Texan Homer Galloway and their conflict with casino manager Max Hanes. Hugh and Betty are involved, but their relationship is threatened by the controlling and underhanded tactics of Hanes. Galloway has returned to the casino determined to win back the small fortune that he lost on his last visit, putting him at odds with Hanes as well. The various narrative strands circle and bump into each other until braiding together for a brutal finale.

 If the plot sounds standard the execution is anything but. MacDonald increases the tension gradually by backing his characters slowly into their individual corners. And then he goes and breaks your heart a little.

This is the good stuff. MacDonald’s prose is gorgeous and his dialogue sings. This is the first of his novels I’ve read, and I’m kicking myself for waiting so long. But in the plus column, since he was a prolific author I now have a whole new list of books to look forward to.

The Cold Cash War

The Cold Cash War by Robert Asprin
Published by Dell 1977

Before finding success with his Myth Adventures series Robert Asprin expanded his short science fiction story The Cold Cash War into this novel of the same name. Despite being well-written and intriguing- not to mention short at 187 pages- the book still carries a lot of padding. Furthermore, those coming to this expecting the humorous prose and witty banter of Asprin’s later work will be disappointed. TCCW is a cynical satire devoid of laughs. None of this is to say the book isn’t interesting, merely slight in both theme and impact.

The premise, corporations escalate their metaphorical wars with one another into actual violence and eventually an all too real war with the government, is an interesting one, unfortunately that single idea is all there is. The characters exist only to serve as representatives of the various sides in the conflict, lacking in personality or back story. The closest the book comes to a protagonist is Tidwell, a mercenary for the corporations. He has a bit more depth than the other characters in the book, and has something close to a story arc.

Cynical without ever being dark, amusing without ever being funny, this is an unusual book. It’s a quick read, and even mildly compelling despite the flatness of its characters. I have to wonder though, if the premise seemed more outlandish when it was originally published, because today it barely passes for fiction, let alone science fiction.

The TellTale Tart

The TellTale Tart by Peter Duncan 

Publisher: Gold Medal 1961

More slamming-door hijinks than mystery, The TellTale Tart is an odd duck. It begins when photographer Pete Farrell, along with writer Laura Ames, arrive on the private island of famous novelist John Hope Hamilton. Pete and Laura are initially there to write a feature article on Hamilton, but soon begin investigating the recent death of his secretary. A death the locals suspect was murder.

Despite the investigatory angle, this isn’t a detective novel, or even much of a mystery. The characters occasionally look for a missing journal that contains the answers they need, but the rest of the time is spent with Pete trying, and mostly failing, to get laid.The first-person POV is the saving grace of this slight tale. Self-deprecating and making humorous hay out of his sexual frustration, Pete is a fun narrator and it’s his voice that makes TheTellTale Tart a comic romp instead of a limp mystery.

 The story is preoccupied with sex without ever being overly explicit, all description is of the a-nod-is-as-good-as-a-wink variety.

Peter Duncan was a pseudonym for B.M. Atkinson, who apparently only wrote two books under the Duncan name. Other than a parenting book (What Dr. Spock Didn’t Tell Us) it appears Atkinson mostly wrote short fiction under his own name, some of which can be found online.