Fer-de-Lance

Rex Stout's Fer-de-Lance is the first of 40+ books (novels or short story collections) featuring the exploits of private investigator Archie Goodwin (2 parts Huck Finn, 1 part Philip Marlowe) and his eccentric employer, Nero Wolfe (1 part Sherlock Holmes, 1 part Mycroft Holmes)–yes, I am one of those who think that Archie's the main character in the mis-nomered Nero Wolfe Mysteries.

In reading about Rex Stout/Nero Wolfe (either by fans or professionals) there's an oft-quoted line from Walter D. Edmonds that you simply cannot avoid seeing, “I shall never forget my excitement on reading Fer-de-Lance, sprung like Athena perfect form the Jovian brow, fresh and new and at the same time with enough plain familiar things in scene and setting to put any reader at his ease.” Aside from Oliver Wendell Holmes' margin note (“This fellow is the best of them all.”), there's nothing that sums up Fer-de-Lance better, sprung like Athena indeed.

It really doesn't matter how many times you've read it, but upon re-reading (and probably even initial reading if this isn't your first encounter with Wolfe and Archie–my initial read was more than 20 years ago, so I don't remember) you can't help be struck by how much Fer-de-Lance fits the model of a mature Wolfe novel–almost all the elements are there. These characters are introduced in practically their final format–a little tweak here and there over the course of the first few novels (off the top of my head I can't say how many) will get them in their final form, plus the addition of a few other characters will be necessary, but the cast of characters is already over 90% complete. In the first chapter we already have Wolfe, Archie, Fritz, Theodore, Fred and Saul presented in a manner fully recognizable to the familiar reader. The story follows a fairly typical route (‘tho the identity of the murderer is revealed far earlier than is the norm), and the essential environmental elements are there–the beer, Wolfe's eccentric schedule, the orchids, a relapse, the food, a cocky scheme to land a client, an outrageous stratagem for getting that last essential piece of evidence (not that Wolfe needs it to solve the crime, merely to prove he was correct)–the only thing missing is the gathering of the witnesses/suspects/clients for Wolfe to reveal everything in his characteristically dramatic fashion. One recurring thought I had while reading it this time was that this could just as easily have been the fifteenth installment in the series as the first.

As I don't recall reading about Stout consulting notes–and he's known not to rewrite any part of these stories–the fact that he can keep all the idiosyncrasies he establishes here well-intact over the next 40 years is a testimony to his mental prowess as much as anything else could be. (Contrast Stout to contemporary authors who find themselves re-writing their own protagonist's biographies thanks to their refusal to check their facts/fix errors).

Enough of that–what about the book itself? Wolfe takes a small case as more of a favor/indulgence/get-him-off-my-back to one of his operatives and in doing so, stumbles upon a fact or two that leads him to conclude that a university president has been murdered in a preposterous manner. Seeing (and seizing) the opportunity to earn a large fee from this, Wolfe sends Archie to place a $10,000 bet with the District Attorney responsible for the area the president died in–wagering that an exhumation of the body will produce two particular evidences of homicide. No bet is made, but since it's Nero Wolfe suggesting it, the body's dug up, the evidence found and we're off...

A fun read, a decent mystery (Stout will get better at this), great characters, and a good introduction to a wonderful world fit for revisiting over and over again.

The second installment in Stout's Wolfe/Goodwin series is a great follow-up to Fer-de-Lance, following up the outlandish machinations of the killer in the first novel with s more subtle, psychological criminal. The main characters don't really develop (ever), but they are honed somewhat as Stout solidifies his vision for the series.

Wolfe is approached by a man carrying both a burden of fear and guilt–back in college, he was one of a group of students (associated only by place of residence) played a prank on an underclassman which resulted in a tragedy leaving the victim crippled. Years later, these students are mostly very successful in their various fields but are bound together by this incident, they have periodically helped their victim in various ways throughout the years until he has found his own measure of success. However, it now seems that he has also taken to exacting his revenge on those he holds responsible, and Wolfe's prospective client wants the detective to put an end to it. Wolfe sends him away, but is eventually provoked by circumstances, money and, of course, Archie to take up the case – investigating a missing persons case, two deaths, and potentially preventing many others.

Stout's novels are filled with all sorts of characters–particularly when the clients are committees, as in this novel. Most of the characters (even, occasionally, the villains) are little more than a name and a near-stereotypical collection of behaviors/remarks. But most stories feature a character or two (beyond the regular cast of characters) that really stand out and are memorable. TLoFM features two of these: Paul and Dora Chapin. Paul Chapin is an author of some talent, who was left crippled (physically) after the prank mentioned above, but he seems to have been born with an emotional/psychiatric disability that's worse than that–the physical injury just makes him even more demented. Contemporary authors might do more with his character, might explore the depths of his depravity more than Stout did, but they wouldn't do so as effectively. (incidentally, he has to be played by Michael Emerson if they were ever to film this). I really can't describe his wife without getting into spoiler territory, but the pair are amongst the most memorable of all Stout's creations.

This is closer to the fully-formed Wolfe novel than Fer-de-Lance, but it's not all the way there yet. For example, Inspector Cramer was smoking a pipe, not chewing a cigar; the chairs used in the office for the guests are non-descript (now that I'm looking for its first appearance, I'm really missing the red leather chair); and Wolfe uses a top-of-the-line atlas instead of his giant globe to take his fantasy trips away from a complicated case. But we are introduced to what will be mainstays of the series: large crowds assembled in Wolfe's office a time or two; his very dramatic revealing of the solution to the case; and best of all, the introduction of Wolfe's rival, foil, colleague, champion, and almost friend–Inspector Lionel Cramer of Homicide.

As with any Stout, there are a few handfuls of lines that deserve quoting and requoting, I really should've kept a notebook or something handy to jot them down. As it was, I only got three of them noted:

...with the quarry within reach, the purpose fixed, and the weapon in hand, it will often require up to eight or ten minutes to kill a fly, whereas the average murder, I would guess, consumes ten or fifteen seconds at the outside. - NW

She was following what Wolfe called the Anglo-Saxon theory of the treatment of emotions and desserts: freeze them and hide them in your belly. - AG

I felt uncertain too, when I saw her. They don't come any uglier...At that she wasn't really ugly, I mean she wasn't hideous. Wolfe said it right the next day: it was more subtle than plain ugliness, to look at her made you despair of ever seeing a pretty woman again. - AG