Category: writing craft

Periodically, I take a deep dive into the world of the mystery writer, Rex Stout, to re-experience the Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin stories. My PhD advisor and great mentor Herrlee Creel once told me my thesis was coming along okay, but I’d do better in life if I wrote it in readable English. He told me to read Rex Stout and write like him. I’ve been trying ever since.

The list of authors, literary critics, academics, and statesmen who have praised the Nero Wolfe-Archie Goodwin stories ranges from John Le Care to Jaques Barzun, all the way to Henry Kissinger. Stout is read on many levels: sheer escapism, social commentary, and the study of human nature are among the reasons. I read the stories to discover the sources of Stout’s greatness; not only to learn the tricks of his trade, but also to examine his insight into the world he lived in.

Stout and Hammett, Chandler, and Macdonald

Stout is not cynically realistic like Hammett, nor is he lyrical like Raymond Chandler, and he is certainly not deeply psychological like Ross Macdonald. Hammett, Chandler, and Macdonald are firmly rooted in the west coast, San Francisco and Los Angeles. Stout is a New Yorker from the Midwest. The west coast bunch surveys humanity with clear cold eyes; on the surface, Stout is only a short step above an “Oh Gosh Golly, how sophisticated” recent arrival to the big city.

Just when I think I have pushed a pin through Stout’s chest and mounted him under glass, I notice that Stout’s Inspector Cramer has more depth in his admiration-tainted frustration with Wolfe and Goodwin’s antics than any of the Dickensian caricatures who populate Chandler’s LA, or that Archie’s wise cracks have wheels within wheels.

In Chandler, Hammett, and Macdonald’s California the police and city governments are often venal and corrupt. In Stout’s New York, Wolfe revels in luxury. He connives for big fees and repeatedly skirts ethical boundaries. Murderers whom Wolfe thinks may get off in court are forced into suicide. He lies for his own purposes. He snatches the choice bits off the serving platter ahead of his dinner guests. Honest and stolid Inspector Cramer knows all this, yet he, and we poor readers, admire Wolfe, a force for justice that transcends quotidian ethics.

This Dive

My latest dive has been into three books: Target Practice, a compilation of pre-Nero short stories; Fer-de-Lance, the first Nero Wolfe novel, published in 1934; and And Be a Villain, a post WWII novel published in 1948.

I had a purpose in mind: the Nero Wolfe novels are often said to have sprung to life fully mature in Fer-de-Lance. Was that true? I set out to compare Wolfe’s debut with Stout before and after Wolfe.

Target Practice

Target Practice is a collection of short stories published between 1914 and 1917, roughly twenty years prior to Fer-de-Lance. Frankly, I didn’t enjoy them. The words on the page were good: clear, concise, to the point. But the plots felt contrived, disconnected from the characters, and almost all the endings were more like general social comments than the inevitable consequences of the stories themselves.

Stout’s switch to writing mysteries in the mid-1930s conveniently solved his story ending issues. Mystery writers have an advantage: the ending is set. When hidden truth is revealed, the mystery is resolved and the story is over. Mysteries can still fail in many ways, but finding a resolution is seldom a challenge.

The two stories in Target that I liked best were mysteries with strong endings: “Justice Ends At Home” and “Heels of Fate.”

“Justice” has been described as proto-Archie-Wolfe. An office boy and a lawyer who work together in the story are said to be prototypes for Archie Goodwin and Nero Wolfe. I see the similarity, but the duo in “Justice” are bland compared to Archie and Nero. However, Stout showed much of his later flair for the tension through carefully paced revelation of the truth of deception and crime at the heart of the story.

In “Heels of Fate,” I saw more of the future Nero Wolfe. In this story, a livery stable owner has the Nero role; a country lawyer plays the Archie-narrator. The lawyer has none of Archie’s panache. The livery stable owner is decidedly not an arrogant epicure like Nero, but he sizes up a situation and schemes to deal out justice without regard to conventional ethics. “Heels” is a tight and absorbing story and, unlike most of the other stories in Target, the ending is both startling and satisfying.

Fer-de-Lance

When I began to read Fer-de-Lance, I was surprised. Archie and Nero are there, but not fully formed. Archie’s wit and style show only rare hints of what is to come. Nero is crafty, claims to be an artist and a genius, but he is not the great man he becomes in the ensuing books.

The iconic brownstone house and office doesn’t have the rich texture that appears later. There’s no red chair for Wolfe’s client or the huge custom chair for Wolfe’s bulk. The giant globe is still to come. The Wolfe posse is present, but barely. Fred Durkin, Saul Panzer, and Orrie Cather appear, but no Inspector Cramer. Purley Stebbins is a name only. There’s a newspaperman, but he’s not Lon Cohen. The posse has few of the enduring characteristics they take on later. Saul Panzer, New York’s greatest freelance operative, is not a freelance. He’s on retainer with Wolfe.

Most surprising was the writing itself. Raymond Chandler is known for his startling similes. For example, “a face like a building superintendent was watching the work and looking as if it was breaking his heart,” from the first paragraph of The Lady in the Lake. Much of the humor in Archie and Nero comes from Archie’s apparent non-sequiturs that reflect deep knowledge.

The arch non-sequiturs are largely absent from Stout’s pre-Nero era, but appear in Fer-de-Lance. An example: “the house was brand-new, wood with panels and a high steep slate roof, one of the styles I lumped all together and called Queen William.” That’s Archie talking.

Both Stout’s Archie and Chandler’s Marlowe twist our sensibilities. Marlowe flaunts his jaded vision while Archie mocks his own knowledge and taste.

Many of Wolfe’s characteristics appear in Fer-de-Lance. Throughout the series, Archie is the detective who digs out evidence, passing on information, evidence, witnesses, and suspects to Wolfe, who is the active hunter, directing the search, manipulating evidence, setting traps, and, in many cases, meting out judgement and punishment. Ultimately, a Nero Wolfe novel is a recount of Wolfe’s quest for truth from evidence that Archie gathers.

To my taste, Stout’s word craft, characterization, and scene construction in Fer-de-Lance took a step back from the quality of the short stories, although the overall construction is better and Stout’s sure hand with dramatic tension moves the story on. Stout said he changed his entire approach to writing with Fer-de-Lance. Maybe he had to relearn some of his style.

And Be a Villain

I won’t say much about And Be a Villain. During WWII Stout vigorously supported the war effort on radio and the Writer’s War Board and devoted less time to writing mysteries. And Be a Villain is a product of Stout’s post-war burst of stories. It is the first of the Arnold Zeck trilogy in which Archie and Wolfe confront and eventually defeat Zeck, a coldly calculating gangster with a vast organization.

Villain has all the features of a fully realized Wolfe novel. Wolfe’s posse appears in full regalia. The brownstone is complete. Archie wise cracks his way through a mess of unpleasant characters and awkward situations. Wolfe is high-handed. He ignores Zeck’s threats; when the truth comes out, Wolfe sidesteps Zeck’s wrath.

Stout’s statement to Eleanor Roosevelt quoted above is a great insight into the success of the Wolfe-Archie mysteries. Stout’s relatable characters help, the wit and humor that touches almost every page contribute, but Wolfe’s intent pursuit of truth is the principal attraction.