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Author: Bob Byrne

Nero Wolfe’s Brownstone: 2020 Stay at Home – Days 18 and 19

Nero Wolfe’s Brownstone: 2020 Stay at Home – Days 18 and 19

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So, last year, as the Pandemic settled in like an unwanted relative who just came for a week and is still tying up the bathroom, I did  a series of posts for the FB Page of the Nero Wolfe fan club, The Wolfe Pack. I speculated on what Stay at Home would be like for Archie, living in the Brownstone with Nero Wolfe, Fritz Brenner, and Theodore Hortsmann. I have already reposted days one through fifteen. Here are days eighteen (April 8) and nineteen (April 9). It helps if you read the series in order, so I’ve included links to the earlier entries. I enjoy channeling Archie more than any other writing which I do.

DAY EIGHTEEN – 2020 Stay at Home

After lunch, I suggested that Fritz prepare some food for Doc Vollmer. I suspected he was volunteering at a local hospital, in addition to treating panicked patients in his practice. I felt a bit guilty, realizing I hadn’t checked on how he was doing at all. Fritz agreed we should feed him. Inviting a doctor over to dinner during a Pandemic was a terrible idea, of course. So Fritz planned a dinner that I could take down and leave on their porch. Helen Gillard had gotten married, and Julia Fellson was now his secretary and assistant. I told Fritz to make enough for both of them. I’m sure she could use a nice meal as well.

I called Julia later and found out that the doctor would be home around nine o’clock, if he didn’t get stuck at the hospital, which was often the case. She said that he was still healthy, but clearly running out of energy. Lately, she had gotten insistent he come home and get some rest, since he began seeing patients at 8 AM there in the brownstone. I thanked her and gave Fritz the update.

About 8:45, I called Vollmer’s office and got Julia. She was just closing up shop. He’d gotten home earlier than usual, but patients had shown up. I told her not to leave and that she was about to get a present on her doorstep. A picnic basket of Fritz’s food, with a bottle of wine and a note, was ready to go. He only lives a half a block away, so I was there in a shake. Julia was watching from the bay window in the front. I waved, showed her the basket, put it on the stoop, and blew her a kiss. She laughed and cried. I couldn’t imagine the daily strain she was under. I started walking back and heard the door open. I turned and she waved and said, “Thank you Archie, you’re a dear. And so are Fritz and Nero Wolfe.”

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Nero Wolfe’s Brownstone: 2020 Stay at Home – Days 16 and 17

Nero Wolfe’s Brownstone: 2020 Stay at Home – Days 16 and 17

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So, last year, as the Pandemic settled in like an unwanted relative who just came for a week and is still tying up the bathroom, I did  a series of posts for the FB Page of the Nero Wolfe fan club, The Wolfe Pack. I speculated on what Stay at Home would be like for Archie, living in the Brownstone with Nero Wolfe, Fritz Brenner, and Theodore Hortsmann. I have already reposted days one through fifteen. Here are days sixteen (April 6) and seventeen (April 7). It helps if you read the series in order, so I’ve included links to the earlier entries. I enjoy channeling Archie more than any other writing which I do.

DAY SIXTEEN– 2020 Stay at Home

Wolfe came down from the plant rooms at the usual time Monday morning, preceded by the sounds of the elevator straining under his one-seventh of a ton. As always, he glanced at me as he walked to his desk, fresh orchid in hand. “Good morning-” He stopped. “WHAT is that?”

I intentionally muffled my voice. “It’s a mask.”

He continued to his desk, placed the orchid in the vase and sat down. “I know it is a mask. What is this flummery?”

I spoke normally. “Flummery? No, sir. You are one of the most atypical human beings on the planet. How do I know you’re not also asymptomatic as well? We spend hours across from each other, here and in the dining room.”

He frowned at me.

“You know, I was on the fence about this thing. It certainly detracts from my charming good looks. Not that anybody is really seeing them nowadays. But then I saw that our very own President, immediately after saying that his administration recommended wearing them, said he wasn’t going to do so himself, without anything resembling a valid reason. That was all I needed, so I voted yes.”

“Perhaps you could find one that mutes you as well.”

I gave him a sarcastic grin, which I then realized was completely wasted under the mask. I sat quietly after that, working on some germination records, and then reading the paper. Wolfe couldn’t seem to get comfortable in his chair, and he snuck glances at me, which I ignored, every so often. He could not get past the mask. Frankly, I was getting a little tired of just sitting there wearing it. But I wasn’t about to take it off.

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Nero Wolfe’s Brownstone: 2020 Stay at Home – Days 14 and 15

Nero Wolfe’s Brownstone: 2020 Stay at Home – Days 14 and 15

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So, last year, as the Pandemic settled in like an unwanted relative who just came for a week and is still tying up the bathroom, I did  a series of posts for the FB Page of the Nero Wolfe fan club, The Wolfe Pack. I speculated on what Stay at Home would be like for Archie, living in the Brownstone with Nero Wolfe, Fritz Brenner, and Theodore Hortsmann. I have already reposted days one through thirteen. Here are days fourteen (April 4) and fifteen (April 5). It helps if you read the series in order, so I’ve included links to the earlier entries. I enjoy channeling Archie more than any other writing which I do.

 

DAY FOURTEEN – 2020 Stay at Home (SaH)

Okay – it’s been two weeks and things are starting to get a little…close, around here. I’m the only one of us who spent a lot of time away from the brownstone, so I’m feeling the strain the most. Of course, I’m the one who goes out for ‘essential’ errands, like taking Wolfe’s laundry to the cleaners. And I try to take a walk at least every other day. Fresh air, stretching my legs, and seeing other human beings – properly social distanced – has been the best medicine.

Fritz hasn’t needed help with the food provisions yet, though I’ve offered. And I have enjoyed watching Bogart movies with him. Last night we saw To Have and Have Not. He liked the suspense and the adventure, and I’d say that he was rather smitten with Lauren Bacall. I admired her spunk when she poked fun at Dolores Moran’s flirting with Bogie. Reminded me of a certain blonde I know. I told him the story that the movie came out of a bet. Ernest Hemingway bet Howard Hawks that the director couldn’t make a good movie out of his worst novel. So Hawks changed a few things around, cast Bogart, and made that film. For my money, Hawks won the bet hands down.

Tonight, I think we’ll watch They Drive by Night. I have a sneaking suspicion Fritz will be hooked by Ida Lupino’s courtroom scene.

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Nero Wolfe’s Brownstone: No Voting Day

Nero Wolfe’s Brownstone: No Voting Day

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Last week, I mentioned that I wrote over 40,000 words about Archie Goodwin and Nero Wolfe enduring Stay at Home together. And that the series was inspired by how I felt on the day that Ohio postponed its Primary Voting Day. That scene is below. So, if you’re a Nero Wolfe fan, read on. If not – well, you’re here for my weekly column, so read on anyway! The elevator made its usual groans of protest as it carried Wolfe’s one-seventh of a ton down from the rooftop plant rooms, where he spent two hours in the morning, and two more in the afternoon, with Theodore Horstmann, tending to 10,000 orchids. It was my personal opinion that the elevator needed more than a two hour recovery period period after having to move him from the ground floor to the roof level. Gravity was not its friend. No man ever followed routine like Nero Wolfe. Mycroft Holmes looked like an undisciplined lout compared to my employer. Every morning at 11 AM, he came down from the plant rooms, entered the office, greeted me with “Good morning, Archie,” crossed to his desk, and followed a routine there. So imagine my surprise, sitting at my own desk, when I heard him turn and take two steps down the hall, towards the front door, or the kitchen. I looked up as silence settled in the hall. He had stopped. “Archie, stop this foolishness. Why is the car not ready? Get out here.” While I am by no means a sigher in Wolfe’s class, working for him has made me a pretty good one. I let one out, got to my feet, and went out of the office. It was Election Day: except, it wasn’t. There were only a few things guaranteed to get Nero Wolfe to venture out of his office and undertake a journey into the wild world outside. And Sunday Mass wasn’t one of them. But he had never failed to sally forth to vote since I had come to work for him. He viewed voting as his side of a solemn contract with the government. But this April 28th, 2020, was different. The coronavirus pandemic had started parts of America into shutdown mode the prior month. Those who thought that pre-emptive action was a good thing touted the governor of my old home state, Ohio, as the kind of leader we needed in Washington. Others, who probably would have said we should stay out of World War II, thought that it was too soon. Regardless of which side you were on, by early April, it was clear that America was in trouble. Rumors were that Ft. Knox was switching its gold reserves over to toilet paper, because it was harder to find. …

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A Writer’s Year – 2020

A Writer’s Year – 2020

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BGers in 2019 – seems like a LONG time ago

And so 2020 comes, mercifully, to an end. We all dealt with issues that impacted our lives – beyond just ‘The Pandemic.’ In January, my wife and I separated. I also left my job of twelve years. December brought a dissolution to start the month, and a hard drive failure to finish it (and no, even though I’ve had two of them fail before, I still didn’t adequately back things up – I’m working on fixing that). For much of 2020, the Pandemic was actually my fourth-biggest daily concern. What a year!

But as you read this, 52 Monday mornings have come and gone, and my byline was there every week. With literally every single part of my life turned upside down, I didn’t miss a deadline. I managed to run A (Black) Gat in the Hand for the third straight year. With some help from various talented friends, we’re up to 68 installments. (Black) Gat is something of an adopted child here at the World Fantasy Award-winning Black Gate, but I think it’s a great addition to the world of hardboiled commentary. I can pretty much guarantee it will be back in 2021.

Discovering Robert E. Howard, and Hither Came Conan, were outstanding series’ in which I gathered a bunch of friends, old and new, to share their expertise and comments, on Robert E. Howard topics. In late 2019, I had started recruiting folks for a similar series featuring the novels of my all-time favorite writer: John D. MacDonald (REH is number two).

But then my home and work life exploded like a nuclear bomb (January really was an apocalyptic month), and that project fell by the wayside. Like those movie projects which are set to go, then hit a major road bump and simply never recover (like DiCaprio’s Travis McGee project), I don’t know if I’ll get that back on track. But I’d still like to. I think that John MacD is one of the greatest writers of the 20th Century – in any genre.

And after that series was queued up and ready to go, the plan was for another group-REH series. Hither Came Conan was going to be succeeded by Flintlocks & Rapiers: Solomon Kane. Another gathering of knowledgeable REH folks were going to each be assigned a Kane story, and ruminate on what was good (and maybe a little not-so-good). But, as mentioned above, 2020 didn’t follow the script.

With my personal 2021 looking a lot less seismic, I’m weighing that project for Black Gate. The Kane Canon is chock full of interesting elements. It’s sword and sorcery. And it’s fantastic; if not exactly ‘fantasy.’ It’s REH doing it his way. I think I might be able to get this one at least underway in 2021. I want to highlight Kane (I’m a bigger Kane, than Kull, fan).

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The Casablanca Letters

The Casablanca Letters

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I think that Groucho Marx was one of the funniest men who ever lived. And I laugh out loud a the movies he made with his brothers. Well, most of them, anyways. I strongly recommend his book. The Groucho Letters. When word was making the rounds around 1944 that the boys were going to make a movie called A Night in Casablanca, Warner Brothers threatened legal action. Jack and the boys felt that this intruded in the territory of their Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman movie of a few years before. Casablanca was not yet remotely the classic it is regarded as today. But Warners didn’t want the Marx Brothers trying to make a buck off of their own film.

Groucho penned what has become a well-known letter to the Warners. It’s full of his great wit and is absolutely worth reading. It’s less well-known that he wrote a couple follow-up letters. Here are The Casablanca Letters – with a few footnotes from me.

Dear Warner Brothers:

Apparently there is more than one way of conquering a city and holding it as your own. For example, up to the time that we contemplated making a picture, I had no idea that the City of Casablanca belonged exclusively to Warner Brothers.

However, it was only a few days after our announcement appeared that we received a long, ominous legal document, warning us not to use the name “Casablanca”.

It seems that in 1471, Ferdinand (1) Balboa (2) Warner, the great-great grandfather of Harry and Jack, while looking for a shortcut to the city of Burbank, had stumbled on the shores of Africa and, raising his alpenstock, which he later turned in for a hundred shares of common (3), named it Casablanca.

I just don’t understand your attitude. Even if they plan on re-releasing the picture, I am sure that the average movie fan could learn to distinguish between Ingrid Bergman and Harpo. I don’t know whether I could, but I certainly would like to try.

You claim you own Casablanca and that no one else can use that name without their permission. What about Warner Brothers — do you own that, too? You probably have the right to use the name Warner, but what about Brothers? Professionally, we were brothers long before you were. When Vitaphone was still a gleam in the inventor’s eye, we were touring the sticks as the Marx Brothers and even before us, there had been other brothers — the Smith Brothers (4); the Brothers Karamazoff; Dan Brouthers (5), an outfielder with Detroit; and “Brother, can you spare a dime?” This was originally “Brothers, can you spare a dime” but this was spreading a dime pretty thin so they threw out one brother, gave all the money to the other brother and whittled it down to “Brother, can you spare a dime?”

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A (Black) Gat in the Hand: More Cool & Lam from Hard Case Crime!

A (Black) Gat in the Hand: More Cool & Lam from Hard Case Crime!

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I say Erle Stanley Gardner, and you say…Ed Jenkins? Lester Leith? Paul Pry? Stop that!! All correct, but we were looking for Perry Mason. Probably the most famous defense lawyer in fiction, Mason made Gardner the best-selling author in the world at the time of his death. Raymond Burr is forever linked in minds as the picture of Mason.

But my favorite books from Gardner are those featuring his duo of Cool and Lam. And Hard Case Crime has released their fourth and final volume featuring the mismatched pair. Top of the Heap, Turn on the Heat, and The Count of 9, were all previously reissued. And as I wrote about here, Hard Case published the previously unreleased second novel, The Knife Slipped. William and Morrow Company had objected to the content and declined to publish it upon completion. Gardner moved right along and wrote Turn on the Heat, which became number two, released in January of 1940. There would be twenty-seven more books, with the final, All Grass Isn’t Green, hitting shelves in 1970. And The Knife Slipped joined the list in 2016.

Kudos to Hard Case for getting some of this series back in print. The paperbacks from Dell and Bantam can be found used, but not always on the cheap. And getting them in good condition can be a bit difficult. I myself don’t even have all 29 yet, and I’m a C&L fanboy. It’s good that Hard Case has made it easy to buy a couple of these books. And of course, it was FANTASTIC to find a lost Cool and Lam title.

If you’ve not read Cool and Lam, the widowed Bertha Cool runs a detective agency, and she hires the disbarred, down on-his-luck Donald Lam: at slave wages. His cunning and sneakiness produce results and he pushes his way into a partnership in book five.

Bertha LOVES money. She basks in the fees that Donald brings in, but she incessantly complains about the razor-thin line he walks with the law. And about his expenses, which are not at all unreasonable. She’s just so cheap she makes Scrooge look generous.

This constant friction makes for an entertaining duo. As Donald writes,

‘At that, our partnership would probably have split up long ago if it hadn’t been so profitable. Money in the bank represented the most persuasive argument in Bertha’s life, and when wit came to a showdown where the dissolution of the partnership was threatened, Bertha could always manage to control her irascible temper.’

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By Crom: A Pair of Perrys (Conan)

By Crom: A Pair of Perrys (Conan)

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I have talked about Conan pastiches in a couple of prior Black Gate posts; and I’ve linked to them at the bottom of this one. Here’s something from one of them:

From 1982 through 2003, eight authors (though primarily four) cranked out 43 new Conan novels for Tor. At two per year, the quality varied wildly, as you can imagine. John M. Roberts’ Conan the Rogue is an homage to Dashiell Hammett’s Red Harvest and one of my favorite Conan books. Steve Perry’s Conan the Indomitable is one of the worst fantasy books I’ve ever read (even though it is a direct sequel to Perry’s Conan the Defiant, which I mostly liked.)

So, let’s take a look at those two Steve Perry books. I think that Ryan Harvey may hold Roland Green in less esteem than he does Perry, but I suspect it’s a close call. I think that Perry was the Tor author cranking out Conan books just for the money. On the whole, they’re bad, and I recommend everyone else ahead of him. Though I don’t recommend Green much, if ever. I talk about the books, and Conan writers, who I like, in the other posts below. You can see what I consider good about them. I don’t think Perry respected the character, or cared about the quality of the plot. Having said that, Conan the Defiant wasn’t too bad as a sword and sorcery paperback. Unfortunately, its follow-up was tripe.

Conan the Defiant

Conan the Defiant is the second of the five novels which Perry wrote in the Tor Series. In William Galen Gray’s chronology it is the fourth Conan tale (following Conan of Venarium, “Legions of the Dead” and “The Thing in the Crypt”), and taking place before Sean Moore’s Conan the Hunter.

The young Conan comes upon a lone priest being waylaid by five bandits. Impressed with the stranger’s skill with a wooden staff, the Cimmerian wades in and helps the man dispatch his opponents. Cengh, a priest of the Suddah Oblates, is later murdered, sending Conan on a quest of justice for his short-time friend.

In typical Conan fashion, he beds Elashi, a desert-bred warrior maiden, as well as Tuanne, a beautiful zombie. Yep, a zombie. Being the irresistible stud he is, the trio engage in threesomes all along their trek to the bad guy’s castle. This one seems to rate higher than normal on the Conan adolescent fantasies scale.

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The Mandalorian: Fidelity & Innovation

The Mandalorian: Fidelity & Innovation

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I’m not a Star Wars fanboy. I’ve seen the movies, and most of the cartoon shows. Though I’m pretty spotty on The Clone Wars, which my son Sean can cite chapter and verse. I read books by Alan Dean Foster and Timothy Zahn way back when, but that’s about it.

But I like Star Wars. And I’m fairly open-minded. I thought that a few of the movies, like The Phantom Menace, weren’t that great. And The Last Jedi just about put me to sleep. But on the other hand, Solo was a fun caper/heist flick, with a Star Wars overlay: I’m in!

Star Wars Rebels was a much better animated series than The Resistance, for me. I liked all the lore they filled in. Which brings us to Jon Favreau’s terrific project, The Mandalorian. Favreau played a major role in launching the Marvel cinematic universe, and I can’t think of any better hands to be holding Star Wars at the moment.

A year ago, I raved about the first three episodes of season one, which I binge-watched with my son. I loved the rest of the season, and as I type this, we’re through episode five of season two.

SPOILER ALERT – If you’re reading this before watching the show: that’s surprising. Seems like everybody I know is watching every episode on the Friday it drops. Go catch up on Disney+, then read the rest of this. END SPOILER ALERT

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Steamed – Gaming here at Black Gate

Steamed – Gaming here at Black Gate

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Hudsucker_RobinsElevatorEDITEDThe pay phone on the wall by the door into the dungeon…cellar…basement…journalist’s suite below Chicago’s permafrost layer rang at the Black Gate World Headquarters. I vaulted over the wood plank that rested on two sawhorses, which served as my desk. The last person who hadn’t answered before the third ring had been sent downstairs. ‘Downstairs’ was rumored to be the lair of a beast that Conan wouldn’t be able to defeat.

“Black Gate World Headquarters. Home of the world’s preeminent fantasy magazine.”

“Who is this?” barked the voice of John O’Neill, Founder, editor, publisher, CEO, CFO, and overall Grand Poobah of Black Gate. I could think of a three-letter acronym beginning with ‘S.’ “Is that you, Bryne?”

I took a breath. I had been writing for Black Gate for going on seven years now, and he still got my name wrong. I had given up trying to correct him after the second year. I figured, as long as I remained on the payroll, it didn’t really matter. Not that I actually got paid.

“Yes, sahib.”

“What are you doing down there?”

“Just working on a column, sir.”

“What do you mean, man? You’re in the office on a Sunday, working on a column?”

I caught myself. “Working on three columns, sir. I finished two yesterday.”

“That’s better. Thought I was going to have to reassign some stories from that Ted guy. Can’t have you coasting on past accomplishments.” He paused. “Of course, we’re a team here – no individual egos.”

Yours is certainly big enough for the rest of us, I thought.

“What was that, Bryne?”

“I didn’t say anything, sir.”

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