Erle Stanley Gardner (1889–1970)

Gardner is best known for the 80+ novels he wrote featuring Perry Mason, but he also wrote (under the pseudonym A.A. Fair) 30 novels about the Cool & Lam detective agency; this is the first of those, published in 1939.

Bertha Cool is a 60-ish widow who runs the agency she founded after her husband's death. She is a large woman, in both height and weight; Gardner's descriptions of her size are less mean-spirited (*) than they might have been in that era, but it's referred to a lot. That is show more somewhat counterbalanced by the fact that Bertha herself is what we might today call "fat-positive;" she likes to eat, isn't embarrassed about it, and tells people "Don't be bashful; I'm fat."

(*--Note that "less mean-spirited" doesn't mean not mean-spirited. It's hard not to wince at sentences like "She wiggled and jiggled around inside her loose apparel like a cylinder of currant jelly on a plate." But in 1939? It could have been even worse.)

Donald Lam is the narrator of the novel, which opens with his job interview. He's not typical private eye material himself; he's short and slender, and not a good fighter by his own admission. What he has going for him is intellect and a skill for analysis.

The case at hand starts off simply enough. Donald is tasked with tracking down a man in order to serve him with divorce papers; the problem is that the man is wanted by the police, and has done a very good job of hiding himself.

Of course, it doesn't stay that simple, and by the time we're done, Gardner has ended with a doozy of a twist, based on an actual loophole in Arizona law of the day; after the book was published, the state legislature promptly passed legislation to solve the problem.

The great strength here is the relationship between Cool and Lam. They're both used to being underestimated, and have both learned to stand up for themselves, which makes the dynamic between them a little more prickly than your typical employer-employee pairing. Donald challenges Bertha, and she respects him for it.

And unlike a lot of crime fiction (including, for the most part, the Perry Mason novels), Cool and Lam are funny. Their banter is lively, crisp, and witty. I can easily imagine going back for more of this series. show less

The misogyny -- it burns.

Really. And so does the racism. Even more than the average mid-century American mystery offering. There are three attractive young women whom the protagonist Terry Clane could have for the asking (overdoing it much, Mr Gardner?). Towards the end of this book, Sou Ha disclaims any expectations of Clane because "You are not of my race" and in her inscrutable fashion attempts to confess to a murder she did not commit in order to protect the woman he loves... whoever show more that is. Alma, the gifted artist with whom he has a history, comes up with a long speech about how they loved each other before Clane left for China but she has changed, her husband died and she concentrated on her art, and now she is famous but (presumably due to her career and fame) unfit for marriage or motherhood (Queen Elizabeth II didn't get that memo, good for her) and he should marry her sister instead, she knows he wants to. If he really wants to marry Cynthia (and the last scene in the book is fairly explicit about his interest), he's as much of a vapid fool as the drunken little bimbo herself. Fit for marriage and motherhood without a particle of unselfishness or maturity in her whole makeup. Right.

Interestingly, the author (and his representative Clane) is fairly well conversant with Cantonese, although saying that mmm represents "no" is linguistically indefensible in my opinion; it's a negator but cannot stand alone. Bimbo Cynthia giggles that Chinese girls can say "no" without opening their mouth (they can't, but Clane doesn't correct her; she probably wouldn't be listening anyway). Sou Ha's name means, we are told repeatedly, Embroidered Halo, but I wonder if the author somehow confused Hallo and Halo when searching the Chinese/English dictionary, because I personally would expect halo or nimbus to be represented by the character guang -- gong in Cantonese --, whereas ha can stand for "Hallo"... but it's hard to say because of the number of homonymous characters in Chinese. These are the kind of things that bother a linguistics geek.

Also, I want to join the Detective Book Club and get 9 great mysteries, in hardcover, for $1. There's a card to send away for this great deal bound into the middle of my pocket book. show less

The Half-Wakened Wife is one of the better Perry Mason stories I’ve read over the years, and is from that period in the 1950s when Gardner's series was at its zenith. It has some particularly nice moments between Perry and Della that make it memorable. While the caveat of Gardner’s dialog, sometimes much too formal — having characters speak on paper as they never would in real life abounds — exists as always, it’s overcome by some nifty plotting, and those romantic moments between show more Perry and Della.

It all has to do with a woman named Jane who wants to sell an island and share the wealth with her sister Martha and Martha’s daughter, Marjorie. Oil rights to the island are in dispute because of some tricky business, however, and it may hold up the deal. Perry joins all the participants in the negotiations on a yachting outing designed to hash out the problem. When he hears a scream on the fog-shrouded night at sea, however, and a woman runs smack-dab into him holding a gun, it can’t be long before someone is charged with murder — even if they can’t find the participant who went overboard.

In some unusual twists, Perry and Paul get sued, and Perry gets fired by his own client, whom Paul Drake believes is absolutely guilty. What leads to the lawsuit is a wet blanket and shoes which prompts Perry to accuse someone, and end up with egg on his face — right in front of Tragg! As usual, the plot’s all a bit complicated, but in the end it all makes sense. Before we get there, we have one of the most romantic moments in the long-running series, as Della sits on the grass with Perry’s head in her lap, remaining awake beneath the stars while Perry sleeps. It’s a rare tender moment, but a second surprising one at the end reveals a wistfulness of the heart for the lawyer and his secretary. They are considering purchasing a property in Della’s name, for a day yet to come. Knowing what we do now, one has to wonder if this wasn’t a reflection of Gardner’s own life.

Only the unnatural formality of dialog in a few spots — especially a scene with Paul Drake rattling on and on from his bed while Perry and Della sit and listen — mar a terrific entry in the series. It’s a minor distraction from a great story and entry in the series. It adds a rather unfortunate sense of artificiality to the story that pulls us away from complete immersion. It’s a minor caveat, however, and I’m still giving this one five stars because it’s got so many good moments to offset the few less than stellar ones. A really great one in the series. show less

“She’s too busy stealing her sister’s boyfriend.” - Della Street

“No, she’s just giving her sex appeal its morning exercise.” - Perry Mason


The Case of the Green-Eyed Sister is one of Erle Stanley Gardner’s Perry Mason novels written in the 1950s, when Gardner was at his zenith in the famous series. This one is surprisingly breezy, in spite of the usual complicated plot involving blackmail and eventually, murder, and a rather lengthy courtroom scene.

It begins like a horse show more jumping from the starting gate when Della makes certain Perry knows she doesn’t like the green-eyed client waiting to see him. Her name is Sylvia Bain Atwood, and she’s trying to get out of some tricky business being run by a guy named Brogan, that Paul Drake believes is a shady but smart blackmailer. The backstory involves whether the money that her ailing father used to get rich — there’s a lot of money involved — came from an old robbery. Sylvia doesn’t want that, because it could void all that money she and her more subdued sister, Hattie, and her brother will inherit.

Sylvia thinks she’s smarter than Mason, and it jams up the works! Her efforts to stay ahead of the blackmailer — and Mason — muddy things up at every turn. With Della in tow, Mason walks in on a murder scene he’s been set up to find, and has a very disagreeable Sgt. Holcomb looking to catch Perry on the other side of the line he’s always skirting. Tragg lends Mason a hand in this one, tipping him off at one point! But Mason’s not the only one in a jam, because when the father kicks off, the green-eyed sister’s schemes cause Hattie to be charged with murder.

This is really an excellent entry in the series, very enjoyable. Even a protracted courtroom questioning doesn't slow this one down enough to mar it significantly. An ice pick, some very tricky business with the blackmail tape everyone wants, and some even trickier business regarding time of death make this one zip along nicely. Even the lengthy questioning in court of witnesses is involving rather than tedious, and this case has one of the most unusual endings of the entire series.

Will Perry let someone fry for a crime they didn’t commit? Will the green-eyed sister get the last laugh? You’ll have to read it to find out. A good one! show less