I wonder if there's anybody out there as tired as I am of
reading gripes about Parker's novels. If you don't like him,
don't read him. I don't mind wearing out my declining
eyesight skimming through effusive praise of Carroll John
Daly or any number of, ah, writers of dubious stylistic
value. They've made their contributions to the genre and
deserve a little overpraise every now and then. Nobody ever
seems to cut Parker any slack, even though he kept the
private eye novel going through the roughest period of its
history, never mind that he has influenced several of today's
heroes of the hardboiled and created what has become a genre
staple -- the sociopathic sidekick. Okay, so he insists on
sticking in all that crap about Susan Silverman and the dog
and he allows his hero a smugness that can set one's teeth on
edge. With all of that, his books -- and his year he's
published at least three -- are never less than entertaining
and, every now and then, deliver a scene or set piece
(usually a confrontation with a powerful adversary) that
reminds you of what drew you to crime fiction in the first
place.
Dick Lochte
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