Donald E. Westlake (1933–2008)

When asked by a student what it takes to be enlightened, a great spiritual teacher replied: "You must want God as much as a drowning man wants air."

Once, as a teenager, swimming in the rough waves of the ocean, a panic-stricken white haired geezer grabbed my arm and cried out for help. In that instant I knew what it meant for someone to want air so badly he would have pulled me under so he could continue breathing.

The narrator of Westlake's tale, Burke Devore, is one such drowning man show more gasping for air. In Bruke's case, drowning is being over fifty and unemployed with a wife and kids. Air is a job.

Burke has spent his entire career as a polymer paper specialist. Its the 1990s, the post-Reagan years - he was downsized along with hundreds of other dedicated employees many months ago. The money is about to run out. Burke stands to lose his nice house in Connecticut, his car, his possessions, any remaining shred of respect from his family. As far as Burke is concerned, he stands to lose his life. No doubt about it, Burke Devore needs a job. Fast.

After trying to win a job these past months their way, the way society says you have to win a job, Burke realized the odds were stacked way too high against him, too many other equally qualified job hunters in his specialized field and too few companies looking to fill his position.

Burke Devore knows what he has to do. He goes up to the attic, locates the chest with the Luger pistol his father brought back from Germany as a souvenir after the war. He sets his plan in motion, a plan to pinpoint those other qualified job hunters competing for a polymer paper manager job, his job.

Can he really do it, kill off the competition? With his very life on the line, you bet he can.

American author Donald E. Westlake wrote The Ax at age sixty-five, with more than forty published novels to his credit. Mr. Westlake brings a true writer's wisdom to this work I judge an overlooked classic. Through the magic of entering the heart and mind of Burke Devore, the author makes credible the incredible, plausible the implausible, how an everyday kind of guy, a law abiding citizen can take drastic measures to reclaim his life.

You read The Ax with a combination of shock and fascination. Your jaw drops. Can this really be happening? It can. And the more pages you turn, the more you appreciate the tale's black humor. Wow! Donald E. Westlake. Why haven't I heard of this guy before?

And there's such an acid critique of society. Burke Devore reflects on capitalism's underbelly, how politicians, stockholders and the CEOs are the real enemy. The rich don’t care about a workforce toiling, bleeding sweat and sweating blood to keep their company in the black. Not one bit. What the rich at the top care about is maximizing profit. If merging with another company or moving their plant overseas can squeeze out the most profit, that’s what they’ll do. Thousands of men and women who have created a life around their job means nothing. Let them and their families eat cupcakes. Don't go away mad, gang, just go away.

Burke cracks a wry smile. Fortunate in years past for those blue collar types, steel worker, miners, factory workers - when automation hit and they could be replaced by machines, at least they were unionized. But nowadays when computers replace white collar middle managers like himself, no unions. Your education and professionalism, so the theory goes, gives you benefits enough. What a joke.

Stopping to fuel up his car, Burke considers another solution to his problem: banditry. Simply pop into a convenience store like this one with a Pakistani behind the counter, point the Lugar at his face and demand all the cash in the till. He could rob such a convenience store once a week until Social Security kicks in. Now that’s convenient!

No, that's not the solution. Burke knows the solution.

To find out how Burke will fair in his role as a methodical serial killer, I highly recommend reading The Ax. Middle America never had a more articulate spokesperson.



American author Donald E. Westlake, 1933 - 2008 show less

Richard Stark and Donald E. Westlake may have been one and the same person, yet their books are dramatically different. True, both wrote about crime, but Westlake's criminals, especially his Dormunder gang, were mostly harmless and mostly hapless. Nothing ever went right for them. It was all about the comedy. Stark, meanwhile, wrote about Parker, a hardcore professional who leaves few clues, and fewer laughs, behind.

“The Outfit” (1962), one of the earliest Parker novels, finds him with a show more new face, thanks to plastic surgery, but still with the same lifestyle. In the opening chapter he's in bed with a woman when a hitman breaks in to kill him. Parker gets the upper hand and discovers the hit was ordered by the head of the Outfit, a nationwide crime network.

Parker decides to take on the Outfit. First he writes letters to all the freelance criminals he knows, telling them that if they have ever considered striking one of the Outfit's operations, most of them involving illegal gambling, now was the time to pull off those jobs. Meanwhile, Parker himself, aided by a semi-retired associate, goes after the head of the Outfit.

As usual in these novels, the action is fast-paced, and other, even worse criminals, not innocent civilians, are the only ones who get hurt.

Actually this Parker novel does have one thing in common with the Dortmunder novels. Parker enters a bar where the restrooms are labeled "Pointers" and "Setters." This same gag, among the few ever used by Richard Stark, would later be used by Donald E. Westlake in most of the Dortmunder adventures. show less

"And then a big, goofy smile lit up his face like a haunted house going up in flames..." - what a great line.

"suffering from expression deficit disorder" describing a waiter.

A little strange in a clash of vibe and time setting. Published and set in the early 00s, there are pretty racist phrases littered in like 'rag heads', which probably people still use today, but don't say out loud very much. It feels like the book was written in the 70s or 80s and updated with modern bits like Meehan show more being an 'internet technician' or whatever his cover is supposed to be. Clunky.

More trunk novel clues - someone slippery and fake is described as a 'stock swindler' - who would say that now, or even 20 years ago? Hedge fund guy or Bond trader even, but stock swindler? Also, no one has a cell phone. Granted it's early days and no smart phones, but professionals of this caliber had Qualcomms or Nokias. I had one and I was a lowly cube-dweller. show less

A great one! In his introduction, Luc Sante says that the books "all but read themselves." That's pretty good, and true--I read the first 40 pages on a Friday night and the rest on Saturday morning. I found myself covering the last sentences of chapters with my hand, so my eyes wouldn't light upon the terrific sentences that propel the plot. This one is especially good and the first in the series (I think) in which Parker laughs. Of course, it has a perfect last sentence.

Ever hear show more mathematicians go on about "the beauty of calculus?" The Parker books seem to be beautiful for the same reasons: there's perfect economy, without a wasted syllable, and all the complexities move and work out towards an elegant solution. show less