Spenser: Far Higher

I voiced my displeasure with Robert B. Parker’s Early Autumn, moaning, “where’s the blood” and “gimme some murder!” My problem was not with the novel itself – I believe it to be beautifully written – but that it is much more a coming of age story than a crime novel. Early Autumn is about a relationship tested and a boy learning life lessons, and its pages provide a portrait of the detective I believe to be the most ethical of the detectives we have read: Spenser. I define ethics as, simply, the Golden Rule: treat other people as you would like to be treated. At first blush, perhaps too simple to use in this essay, and indeed the golden rule casts a wide net. The golden rule is, however, a way of living, and it is the way each detective moves through life –albeit a fictional life – that will be examined here. It occurs to me that in order to develop a list of suspects, police – or in this case, the detective –must prove motive. In the same way, I will determine the motivation of the detectives – why they behave the way they do – and conclude that Spenser is indeed far higher than the rest. I will then examine how Parker broadcasts the importance of leading an ethical life through Spenser’s actions.

What motivates the other detectives, then? Block’s Matthew Scudder is a man forever atoning for his sin. He lights candles at the local Catholic church: “And, of course, one for Estrellita Rivera, who would never get to be eight” (The Sins of the Fathers, 19). Scudder does good because he did bad, not because doing good is the right thing to do. McBain’s Andy Parker is motivated by racism. We discussed at length in class that Andy is unaware of his racism. I disagree, but more to the point: being unaware is inexcusable. I highly doubt that after years on the force in that particular precinct, that Andy does not understand how his attitude and words can be so upsetting, harmful, and dangerous. Perhaps because I listened to the audio version of the book, I paid keener attention to the inflection of Andy’s voice each time he was accused of saying something racist, and Andy was not believable. “Hell, you know me better than that. I don’t care if a guy’s Puerto Rican or Chinese,” Andy says. Hernandez replies with a deadpan, “Sure” (See Them Die, 84). Hernandez agrees with me. Hammett’s Sam Spade may have his own code, but his motivation is revenge –revenge for his murdered partner. Spade triumphantly tells Brigid, “You killed Miles and you’re going over for it” (The Maltese Falcon, 213). Hammett’s Continental Op wants to see the guilty hang. His motivation is simple bloodlust. He solves each crime and the criminal is turned in, but at the end of nearly every story he nearly salivates as he declares their fates. “With her assistance it was no trick at all to gather up the rest of the evidence we needed to hang him (“The Tenth Clew,” 38). “You’re going to Seattle, Ed, to hang for Ashcraft’s suicide” (“The Golden Horseshoe,” 81). “The Chinese went to the gallows” (“The House in Turk Street,” 108). “They hanged him” (“The Farewell Murder,” 287). Placing Spenser upon a pedestal and declaring him far higher than the rest is almost unfair. At great personal cost – monetary, and his relationship with Susan – Parker takes on a summertime chore to raise, for all intents and purposes, an orphan. What a guy. Parker paints Spenser as a hero, but he is no Christ-like figure or superhero – he is just a man. Spenser’s motivation, shown time and again, is living by and passing on the assets of the golden rule.

I attempted to determine at what moment Spenser decides he must help Paul – I mean, reallyhelp the boy. Paul initially mistrusts Spenser. “What do you care? It’s not your business. Whyn’t you leave me alone?” “Because right now you’re in my keeping and I’m trying to decide what’s best to do with you” (26). Spenser knows that all the boy needs is guidance, and without it, he will remain adrift. For example, Paul hangs on the periphery of every conversation he comes near. This behavior resonates with me, recognized as a habit of an only child. As much as a teenager tries to act cool and aloof, those ears are open, not wanting to miss a thing: Paul overhears Spenser’s confrontation with Mel and Elaine (20-24); Paul sits right in the room “watching television” as his mom pawns him off in order to achieve a private evening (31-34); Paul witnesses Harold and Buddy bullying their way in (71-74). Just afterward, Spenser confesses that he feels sorry for Paul, and that is why he agrees to, in essence, babysit. I do not think Spenser has yet decided to take the boy on as a project, though, I think that comes later, and I think it is on page 62:“Your father ever take care of you?” Spenser asks. Paul replies, “No.” The reader is told little to nothing of Spenser’s relationship with his own father, but to my mind it is that simple exchange that threads the needle for Spenser. Paul must be taught to be, in Spenser’s word, “autonomous” (99).

Building a house is such a strong symbol in and of itself in the importance of living an ethical life. The Christian tradition would invoke the parable of the wise and foolish builders, and the importance of having a strong foundation. Of the many things Spenser knows he can teach Paul, that foundation is by far the most important. Though the symbolic house building is a lovely image, Parker’s lessons are spelled out beautifully on their own in simple life lessons. “A way of living better is to make the decisions you need to make based on what you can control”(114). Spenser and Paul have a long discussion about gun violence and his personal rules – Paul speaks first: “How come you didn’t shoot them?” “I didn’t need to” (75). “Why don’t you?” “Something to do with the sanctity of life. That kind of stuff” (76). It is Spenser’s summation and final conclusion that are the most telling: “You make rules for yourself and know that you’ll have to break them because they won’t always work” (76). Spenser gently guides Paul toward ethical action: “I also think it’s bad form to talk about your mother that way to a stranger.” “Why?” “It’s just not done” (28). Later, Spenser does so again: “How come you wouldn’t let her pay for it?” “It didn’t seem the right thing to do” (35). “I still don’t see why you want to pay for my dinner.” “I’m not sure. It has to do with propriety. Appropriateness. Doing things right”(37). Spenser explains to Susan, “The kid’s never been taught how to act. He doesn’t know anything. He’s got no pride. He’s got nothing he’s good at. He’s got nothing but the tube.” “I’ll teach him what I know. I know how to do carpentry. I know how to cook. I know how to punch. I know how to act” (98). Spenser leads by example, though, even when Paul is not there to witness. “Do you think [Paul would] think less of me than he does now?” Patty asks. “No. He’d think less of me” (67), Spenser replies. He continues, “I’m committed to another woman. I’m committed to protecting your son. Screwing his mom, pleasant as that would be, is not productive” (69).

Ethical living, according to Parker, stems from honesty. Right from the start, Spenser never lies to Paul. He is brutally honest and tells the boy what he needs to hear, no matter how hard it might be. At the cabin, Spenser gets right to the heart of the matter: “Your parents are no help to you. If anything, they hurt. You can’t depend on them. They got you to where you are. They won’t get better. You have to” (123). When Spenser tells Paul he plans to blackmail his parents, he says,“But remember, you probably will care. It probably will hurt. It’s okay for it to hurt. It’s very sensible that it should hurt” (160). Spenser knows that holding back the truth would only do Paul a disservice, and teaches Paul that it is literally bad to pull your punches, all the while delicately teaching him that honesty is the best policy.

In “The Simple Art of Murder,” Raymond Chandler claims a detective must be “the best man in his world and a good enough man for any world.” I would take Spenser in my world any day, and am thankful that Robert B. Parker was in my world for a time, even though I was not aware of him. Paul asks Spenser if Hawk is his friend. “He’s not good. But he’s a good man. You know the difference? You will. It’s a difference I’m going to help you learn” (108). With Early Autumn, Parker left a legacy by mapping out instructions for leading an ethical life. Spenser teaches Paul, and Parker teaches us, simply and effectively.