Friday, September 23, 2016

Friday's Forgotten Books, September 23, 2016


The Evil Days by Bruno Fischer (archives of Ed Gorman) 
 
Bruno Fischer had one of those careers you can't have any more. There's no market for any of it. He started out as editor and writer for a Socialist newspaper, shifted to terror pulps when the newspaper started failing, became a successful and respected hardcover mystery novelist in the Forties and early Fifties, and finally turned to Gold Medal originals when the pb boom began. His GMs sold in the millions. His House of Flesh is for me in the top ten of all GMs.

Then for reasons only God and Gary Lovisi understand, Fischer gave up writing and became an editor for Colliers books. But he had one more book in him and it turned out to be the finest of his long career.

Fischer shared with Howard Fast (Fast when he was writing mysteries under his pen names) a grim interest in the way unfulfilling jobs grind us down, leave us soulless. Maybe this was a reflection of his years on the Socialist newspaper. The soullessness features prominently in The Evil Days because it is narrated by a suburban husband who trains to work each day to labor as an editor in a publishing company where he is considered expendable. Worse, his wife constantly reminds him (and not unfairly) that they don't have enough money to pay their bills or find any of the pleasures they knew in the early years of their marriage. Fischer makes you feel the husband's helplessness and the wife's anger and despair.

The A plot concerns the wife finding jewels and refusing to turn them in. A familiar trope, yes, but Fischer makes it work because of the anger and dismay the husband feels when he sees how his wife has turned into a thief. But ultimately he goes along with her. Just when you think you can scope out the rest of the story yourself, Fischer goes all Guy de Maupassant on us. Is the wife having an affair? Did she murder her lover? Is any of this connected to the jewels? What the hell is really going on here?

Sometimes we forget how well the traditional mystery can deal with the social problems of an era and the real lives of real people. The hopelessness and despair of these characters was right for their time of the inflation-dazed Seventies. But it's just as compelling now as it was then when you look at the unemployment numbers and the calm reassurances by those who claim to know that the worst is yet to come.

All this wrapped in one hell of a good tale by a wily old master. 
Margot Kinberg, IN THE BLEAK MID-WINTER, Julie Spencer-Fleming
B.V. Lawson, FIRST COME, FIRST KILL, Richard and Frances Lockridge
Steve Lewis/William F Deeck, WEREWOLF, Charles Lee Swem
Todd Mason, SELECTED STORIES by Fritz Leiber, SELECTED STORIES by Theodore Sturgeon ; VIRTUAL UNREALITIES: THE SHORT FICTION OF ALFRED BESTER 
Neer, Three Vintage Mysteries Written Under Pseudonyms
J.F. Norris, WILD JUSTICE, George Birmingham
Matthew Paust, ELIMINATION, Ed Gorman
Reactions to Reading, PIETR, THE LATVIAN, George Simenon
James Reasoner, TRAILS WEST, Eugene Cunningham
Richard Robinson, GROTTOS OF CHINATOWN, Arthur J. Burks
Gerard Saylor, THE PAPERBOY, Pete Dexter, SEDUCTION OF INNOCENT, Max Allan Collins
Kevin Tipple/Barry Ergang, BLUNT DARTS, Jeremiah Healy
TomCat, NECK AND NECK, Leo Bruce
TracyK, THE DIAMOND FEATHER, Helen Reilly
Westlake Review, SMOKE

6 comments:

Mathew Paust said...

Speaking of masters, Ed's reviews not only entice one to read a book about subjects many of us turn to fiction to escape from, the backgrounds he includes of the writing and publishing milieu are alone worth the read.

pattinase (abbott) said...

Love reading his blog.

Margot Kinberg said...

I do like a traditional mystery. And sometimes they really can deal with social issues. This one looks good (and thanks for including my post in the list!).

Richard Robinson said...

Link for Todd's entry not working......

J F Norris said...

A bit later than usual today, but it's done now.

Wild Justice by George A. Birmingham

Thanks, Patti!

Yvette said...

Mine just went up on the blog, Patti. My only excuse is that I simply forgot. Apologies.