[.ca] The Godwulf Manuscript (ISBN 0440129613)

Where it all began - a great book:
This book is the novel that introduced the character of Spenser. The dialogue is witty. The scences where Spenser is on a college campus are nicely structured. The Boston backdrop is well done. The book flows - a great read.

The Godfather of Sass:
Ah, Spenser. Edmund Spenser wrote "The Faerie Queen." And this Spenser is anything but. Former boxer, Korean vet, and armed to the teeth with moxie and sass. And a little hiphugger pistol for those moments when a Dennis-Miller-esque zinger goes right over the thug's head. This intro to Spenser is hilarious in its descriptions of early 70's apparel and attitudes, not the least of which is Spenser's bedding of a mother and daughter within a 24-hour period. Paging James Bond. Anyway, it's all for fun. The plot's kind of 1-2-3 but it's nice to see where Elvis Cole and Fletch (at least the movie Fletch) came from.

Are Boston-baked-beans & Palm Beach Frozen Daiquiri's relished in the same Galaxy?:
How Can Massachusetts and Florida geographically co-exist without curdling, or exploding methane? What caught me in the book description of THE GODWULF MANUSCRIPT was thinking, how cool that Parker (from the "school of hard knocks") was getting in the door of the prestigious Boston university crowd through his tough guy P.I. Persona. Made me want to explore Parker's bio, as well as read this mystery pilot, though I ordered the book mostly from being sold on the 3 Spenser novels I had read prior to reading this pilot, BAD BUSINESS, BACK STORY, POTSHOT. The opening scene of an interview with the university principal captured me instantly, as I hung around with Spenser, cheering him on as he identified and put down a classic, pompous azz. I couldn't resist the soul honesty of a P.I. who isn't vulnerable to or taken in by sheer snootiness. And Spenser continued reinforcing my be-glued-ability by his being brutally unaffected, basically unimpressed by any type of status, prestige, power, or pomp. He breezed aloofly and absolutely artfully through the first half of the book, sloughing off every character's attempt to control or intimidate him, including clients (and the wife of one) with oodles of prestige and/or money and class-stature (who gave him retainers), including a heady collection of various levels and types of police presence (who gave him grief, which he returned in Sam Spade finesse). I gleefully began to get a picture of what Spenser doesn't respect (me neither), a clear idea of what he observed with crisply designed disgust. As I applauded with high entertainment, I was egged on to know the type of person he would respect. The first simple, "I liked her" didn't show up until I could measure well over a third the total page thickness, as I was simultaneously wanting to slow down to savor the read, and wanting to hurry to finish the book and post another raving-lunatic review. Oh. My. Was Amazon's entertainingly-addicting, customer-review-carnival cartwheeling my ability to read leisurely? No worries. I could always run a magnifying glass over the periods of the addiction later, when I could clearly see a shift in my enjoyment of posting reviews becoming greater than my enjoyment in reading escape fiction. But, then, what the heck. My two favorite activities were being fueled nearly perfectly; who should care which addiction was ahead? (Hic.) Should I admit those vulnerabilities? Definitely not. No. Nada. Nein. Prego, non. Nu, nu, nu. However. Unseemly, unprofessional fools like me rush in with foot-in-mouth, tumbling over toes in a ball of confusion, collecting knots in ribbons (in pigtails), and naughts by their names. Whatever. I have a tongue-in-cheek which I can always stick out at any sane, non-foolish people who might bash my brains or trash my trains of thought which won't ever stop. Someday, a collection of wonderful people are gonna start craving the words of this blathering bozo. (Meaning me, of course, not Parker. As I belch & brup, he brains onward in true brilliance). Uplifting my nose to strike a prim pose let me say this ... The style of this pilot is definitely different from the style Parker has arrived at in his later Spenser novels. From my incorrigible point-of-view, the pilot is richer and meatier in setting and action than the later style in the series, with the pilot's dialogue taking a back seat to the narrative drama. I like the style of the pilot, as well as the evolution of it as Parker geometrically-progressed Spenser into a phenomenon. In each variety of Parker's machinations with Spenser's growth, I'm entertained and enthralled as a reader, maybe even blessed (a gift-of-grace I always welcome to erase my curse collection). To shore up my conclusion that this pilot is like the Greek Goddess, Palas Athena, emerging fully mature from the head of Zeus I'll quote the ending passage of a murder scene in which Parker exposes his rich history of having wallowed in the marrow of detective fiction: >> There were no telltale cigar butts, no torn halves of claim checks, no traces of lint from an imported cashmere cloth sold only by J. Press. No footprints, no thumb prints, no clues. Just a drowned kid swelling with death in a shabby bathroom in a crummy apartment in a lousy building run by a grumpy janitor. And me. << Spenser stands between downtrodden youth and sleazy schemes, Ugly Realities, banished, forgotten dreams. It's not the way a detective novelist describes Death which tells the tale of his seasoning; it's the way he sets the murder scene, describes dead bodies, and picks at clues around them. Rewards will come if you hold this opinion in mind while reading chapter 15 from its opening, through the murder scene, through the above quoted passage, to the point of the building super saying, "Yes sir." I slipped effortlessly from tearing to cheering. Of course, most of Spenser's bottom lines which he spelled out for the duds (not the dudes) in life are cheer surgers. The above noted few page segment of this novel gives a near perfect description of Spenser's sentiments, and the seeds of his code. (Uncannily and brilliantly, he returns to this pilot's times and themes in BACK STORY). Speaking of codes, sentiments, and similarities, I'm continuing to see common denominators between Parker's Spenser and Lawrence Sander's Archy McNally; but now (as I live, belch, and breathe), I'm beginning to notice the dramatic dichotomy between them (and the world-view-contrast between Boston and Florida isn't lost on me either). I had this strange brain spark while reading, earlier in the story, the first scene in which Spenser exchanges non-pleasantries with his client, Roland Orchard (Rollie to his "Hi Ho Silver" super-snob of a wife, paragon-of-pomp). The Jasmine-perfumed spark I got was, "I wonder if Sanders read this scene and thought, `wouldn't it be interesting if I developed a P.I. series which was a comical-antithesis of Spenser, a series which would base on a bright side of a family take-off from the Orchards?'" This wouldn't be the Osmonds, of course, (Lawrence was too overflowing with highbrow, literary-pizzaz-panache), but maybe the ... McNally's ... Maybe Sanders could dramatize an old-money-family even Parker could respect? Considering the dates of publication of the pilots to each series, with Spenser out-of-the-bag in 1973 and McNally out-of-the-chute in 1991 ... I'd love to know if these two authors have read each other's books. I wonder if they might have even known each other or communicated in some way (when Sanders was alive)? I might bet that Sanders was a fan of Spencer, but that Lawrence wanted to do his own Floridian deal in the detective genre. Sanders had too much effervescence to his personality to be able to diffuse it (silent but deadly) into another classic-type P.I. series. Instead, he used the heck out of a continued expansion of who (whom?) he was. Do we all do this, if we seek to glow and grow? So, you see, THE GODWULF MANUSCRIPT has sparked me to begin comparing these two series from various angles, especially contrasting the types of humor, the literary finesse, the intellectual prowess, and the "codes" of ethics of Parker Vs Sanders, Spenser Vs Archy. What fascination I have ahead. A recent order from Amazon included McNally's SECRET (the pilot to that series) and GOD SAVE THE CHILD, the second in the Spenser chain, in which he meets Susan Silverman, who does silver right. As a bit of intrigue into how an author's brain sparks can be hammered into thematic chains, note the scene in this pilot in which Spenser first meets Mrs. Orchard and how his description of that paragon and her living-room plays cold, jarring notes on the word, concept, and color of Silver. Loved the way Quirk and Spenser do their first male bonding scene in which Spencer answers each of Quirk's litany of nagging concerns with "me either." Also enjoyed the earlier hostile scenes between these two justice juggling guys as they took their time taking measure of each other, yet seemed to sense kindred-ness "at first sight." Or, was I just imagining that early intuit, since I knew how the connection evolves? Sometimes it's hard to know how a book would have panned out if read before or after certain other books and pre-conceived notions and preparatory reviews. Mood, background, and pre-conceived's have can have enormous effect on how one enjoys (or not) a read. Many readers, including me, approach a pilot to an established series with the belief (or hope) that it will be less or more than the ensuing books. I attempt to read a pilot looking for the seeds of the later developments, with the attitude of reveling in awe at them. Did! (Done?) This is a pure and polished gem upon which a pulchritude of a collection has grown, written by an author who had already picked and primed his seasoning as a novelist. That he continued writing from that level and plateau-ed higher has earned him every sparkle of his limelight. When he is criticized I automatically want to screech, "crime" (though I cherish free speech and honesty). I can't help it. I'm thankful when what I get for my dime allows me to wine and dine in my mind, as the author sears the social brine. More please!! More, more, more. Linda G. Shelnutt

A rolicking start to a great series:
I've read about a half-dozen Spenser novels, not in order, and finally decided to go through them chronolgically. This is the first, and it marks the birth of the original wiseass, Spenser. Reading these books, one realizes that the plot itself doesn't count as much as the character of Spenser. Wiseass, smart-aleck, and sometimes efficient detective, he is fun and it's always a pleasure to read these novels. But this one doesn't deserve 5 stars, if only because the nascent character hasn't yet ripened. Read on for more stories about Spenser, as Parker develops him and creates a real character.

A breezy read:
The first Spenser novel has some flaws. Do we really need to know the exact route Spenser takes every time he drives somewhere? And what is the Ceremony of Moloch doing in the story? Weird. However, Robert B. Parker kept me turning pages with his witty dialogue and portrayal of Spenser, the brash, smart-mouthed private eye with poetry in his soul. Much of the fun of this novel comes from seeing Spenser stumble into some strange goings-on while trying desperately to stay one step ahead of the crooks. I love how Spenser always parks illegally! That was a nice touch. Overall, an enjoyable read.