The Convertible Hearse

Rating:
Summary: The Convertible Hearse Takes Too Leisurely A Drive.
Review: This is a smooth, capable PI novel featuring former LA Rams lineman Brock Callahan.

For those who don't know, Callahan was one of the first "sympathetic" PIs, rising up, I guess, in the wake of ultra-violent Hammers and world-weary Marlowes. And Callahan is definitely sympathetic. In fact he's a little too nicey-nice. While not exactly a monk (he cheats on his girlfriend after a quarrel), he's just not mean enough or cynical enough to make it gripping. The simple fact that he HAS a steady girlfriend (who's a decorator, for pity's sake) should tell fans of Sam Spade's ilk that Callahan marches to a different, softer beat.

A Southern Cal location with mobsters and some street-level violence does not a hard-boiled detective make. He is much too cooperative with the cops, morally sanctimonious at times (yet moreso in other novels), and even a little neurotic in his hand-wringing. He has to be convinced to carry a gun, and vomits after using it. He isn't particularly fast with a quip, nor good in a scrap, surprising for an NFL star. He can't hold his liquor, a fact which would get him kicked out of a great many detective clubs on its own. The characters (except the mobsters) are all fairly well-heeled and polite. He even scolds another character for being a cynic. All of which makes Callahan unusual in the PI field, certainly in the 50's... just not to my tastes.

It is unfair to criticize a novel or its characters for merely being what they are; so I offer these statements in a spirit of comparison to help other readers, knowing that my highwater mark in the PI genre is Farewell, My Lovely. And I realize there is a substantial audience for a kinder, gentler hero; but among Gault's writings, I just prefer the somewhat tougher Joe Puma novels, that's all. (They're much tougher to find, too.)

This novel has to do with Callahan's girlfriend wanting to buy a Cadillac from Loony Leo, one of those cheesy used car dealers seen on late night TV then and now. It turns out the car is stolen, and soon Leo winds up dead. A lot of people had motive, including some brutal racketeers, and Callahan must sort it all out. He does so, kindly, minding most of his P's and all of his Q's, and trying to stay everybody's friend, even feeling a little bit guilty about tricking the killer (Oh, come on, Brock!) into confessing.

There is some good dialogue, a nice touch of light humor, and a few telling descriptions of life in LA such as Chandler might have made. Author Gault outlines the title as a fitting metaphor for urban sprawl and extravagant spending, and although it doesn't carry over into the mystery itself, it forms an interesting backdrop. But there is also some transparent moralizing and a couple of prose passages that come from nowhere, such as the difference between college and pro football teams; these are not long and not gauche, but are distracting from the whole.

Gault later went into the more lucrative field of juvenile sports fiction, or he might be better known by modern audiences for his mystery writing. When he came back to writing them in the 80's, Callahan had aged and become even softer, in my view, almost an apologist.

Gault did better when he allowed his characters some harsher personas and more cynical foibles. The Convertible Hearse is a quick read, solid but unmemorable fare.

Rating:
Summary: The Convertible Hearse Takes Too Leisurely A Drive.
Review: This is a smooth, capable PI novel featuring former LA Rams lineman Brock Callahan.

For those who don't know, Callahan was one of the first "sympathetic" PIs, rising up, I guess, in the wake of ultra-violent Hammers and world-weary Marlowes. And Callahan is definitely sympathetic. In fact he's a little too nicey-nice. While not exactly a monk (he cheats on his girlfriend after a quarrel), he's just not mean enough or cynical enough to make it gripping. The simple fact that he HAS a steady girlfriend (who's a decorator, for pity's sake) should tell fans of Sam Spade's ilk that Callahan marches to a different, softer beat.

A Southern Cal location with mobsters and some street-level violence does not a hard-boiled detective make. He is much too cooperative with the cops, morally sanctimonious at times (yet moreso in other novels), and even a little neurotic in his hand-wringing. He has to be convinced to carry a gun, and vomits after using it. He isn't particularly fast with a quip, nor good in a scrap, surprising for an NFL star. He can't hold his liquor, a fact which would get him kicked out of a great many detective clubs on its own. The characters (except the mobsters) are all fairly well-heeled and polite. He even scolds another character for being a cynic. All of which makes Callahan unusual in the PI field, certainly in the 50's... just not to my tastes.

It is unfair to criticize a novel or its characters for merely being what they are; so I offer these statements in a spirit of comparison to help other readers, knowing that my highwater mark in the PI genre is Farewell, My Lovely. And I realize there is a substantial audience for a kinder, gentler hero; but among Gault's writings, I just prefer the somewhat tougher Joe Puma novels, that's all. (They're much tougher to find, too.)

This novel has to do with Callahan's girlfriend wanting to buy a Cadillac from Loony Leo, one of those cheesy used car dealers seen on late night TV then and now. It turns out the car is stolen, and soon Leo winds up dead. A lot of people had motive, including some brutal racketeers, and Callahan must sort it all out. He does so, kindly, minding most of his P's and all of his Q's, and trying to stay everybody's friend, even feeling a little bit guilty about tricking the killer (Oh, come on, Brock!) into confessing.

There is some good dialogue, a nice touch of light humor, and a few telling descriptions of life in LA such as Chandler might have made. Author Gault outlines the title as a fitting metaphor for urban sprawl and extravagant spending, and although it doesn't carry over into the mystery itself, it forms an interesting backdrop. But there is also some transparent moralizing and a couple of prose passages that come from nowhere, such as the difference between college and pro football teams; these are not long and not gauche, but are distracting from the whole.

Gault later went into the more lucrative field of juvenile sports fiction, or he might be better known by modern audiences for his mystery writing. When he came back to writing them in the 80's, Callahan had aged and become even softer, in my view, almost an apologist.

Gault did better when he allowed his characters some harsher personas and more cynical foibles. The Convertible Hearse is a quick read, solid but unmemorable fare.