Fer-de-Lance

This book is Exhibit A in the argument for not always starting to read a series with the first book. And yes, I usually do start with the first book when I can, and sometimes it's absolutely essential in order to fully appreciate how the characters evolve. But Stout's Nero Wolfe series of mysteries, which were written over a span of time between 1938 and 1975, are most certainly the exception that proves the rule.

That's due in large part to the way Stout structures the books. While the setting of each book reflects the time period in which it was written, the characters themselves — enormously sedentary detecting genius Nero Wolfe; his handsome, wisecracking, athletic assistant Archie Goodwin (swoon); live-in gourmet French chef show more Fritz; police nemeses Inspector Cramer and Sergeant Stebbins; newspaperman Lon Cohen — never change. They remain the same ages and personalities from the first book to the last, with only minor exceptions. Wolfe is forever in his mid 50s, Archie is forever 32-ish, and so on.

It might sound odd to think of characters never aging even as they operate in a New York City and an American culture that changes drastically, but somehow Stout makes it work. And it has the advantage of avoiding the absurdity of Robert B. Parker's detective Spenser, who in the early 1970s is a Korean War vet and ages at a normal pace through the series, yet is still somehow kicking ass and taking names in the 21st century, well past the age he should be worrying bout breaking a hip during one of his inevitable fisticuffs.

While it's true that Stout's characters remain the same age, that's not to say that they sprang fully formed from the beginning, and that brings us around to why you shouldn't start this series with this book, the first. It took maybe 3 or 4 full-length novels before Stout had fully found Archie's and Nero's voices. Having read the later masterpieces like If Death Ever Slept, a discerning reader will find the dialogue a bit stilted in this maiden effort without the characteristic sparkle and sass that would develop in Archie's first-person narration once Stout hit his stride.

The mystery, though, is still first-rate, involving a snake, a golf club, and an airplane — to say more would be to say too much. Just do me and yourself a favor and don't read it until you've already fallen in love with Wolfe's World. Hands off Archie, though; I saw him first. show less

I can see how over like 35 years this became a class act series. These detective characters are entertaining. But man, in this first one, Archie Goodwin is so notable for both his racism and the sheer improbability of his outlandishly frequent consumption of glasses of milk. Both the racism and all that milk are kind of gross, unpleasant, and unheroic.

Six-word review: Classic mystery still delivers satisfying entertainment.

Extended review:

Following an impulse to renew my former familiarity with the Nero Wolfe series after forty-plus years, I began with a used paperback of the first one, Fer-de-Lance, which I purchased online. This happens to be a 1992 reissue from Bantam, and it begins with an introduction by one Loren D. Estleman, whom I don't know. Estleman gives a brief overview of the series and observes that there's no need to worry about reading the books in order because Rex Stout avoided the problem of confusing chronology "by the simple expedient of never changing his characters." How he got them right from the very beginning is a marvel that I had never contemplated show more before.

I approached this reread with very few memories of specific cases and none of the outcomes, meaning that I could read them all as if new. What I remember--no spoiler here--is the framework: the house setup, the daily routine, the relationship between Wolfe and Archie, the final showdown scene, and how the culprit is always outed in the end. I'm delighted to return to that world-righting certainty, especially after a few too many contemporary murder mysteries in which the author decided to treat us to existential angst instead of a satisfying solution.

Estleman concludes the introduction with this paragraph:

This is a world where all things make sense in time, a world better than our own. If you are an old hand making a return swing through its orbit, welcome back; pull up the red leather chair and sit down. If this is your first trip, I envy you the surprises that await you behind that unprepossessing front door.

I can't remember the last time, if ever, I was ushered into a book by an introduction that addresses repeat readers. That alone suggests how well the series holds up.

Not that this 1934 novel fully withstands scrutiny with a 21st-century lens; dated references aside (how many of us remember Decoration Day?), there are clear, inescapable instances of ethnic and gender stereotyping and prejudice that would never get past the guardians of PC today. For example, one character is suspect because he "look(s) like a foreigner"--a defect that narrator Archie expresses using an epithet that I've never heard before, but that plainly isn't very nice; and young female office workers are girls, but when one is replaced by a male of the same age, he's a man.

However, I do believe that we have to allow for attitudes that are products of their place and time, which is not to condone them, but neither is it to condemn them for not being three-quarters of a century ahead of their time. I'm certainly not going to deny myself the pleasure of revisiting the world of Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin on that account. Not when I know that I can rely on it, just as Estleman says, to present a place where truth, order, and justice prevail. That's what I want from an old-fashioned murder mystery, that and the illusion that real life could sometimes work that way. Because the world I come from doesn't.

Fer-de-Lance brings us a full-scale exhibition of Nero Wolfe's eccentricity, audacity, and blazing brilliance right from the start: a missing-persons inquiry leads straight to a deduction of murder from a few seemingly unrelated clues. Finding hard evidence to back up what appears to be a bizarre conjecture becomes the task of Wolfe and his associates. Wolfe allows neither convention nor possible legal impediment to stand in the way of his pursuit of the truth.

Although the climactic final confrontation scene that is the hallmark of a Nero Wolfe mystery does not occur in this initial episode, everything necessary is present. The story drew me in, held my attention, fulfilled its promises, and delivered a satisfactory ending. How nice to know there are several dozen more where this came from. show less

What a bunch of detestable shits, especially the narrator. Granted, it's quite a twist when at the end of the book you feel vastly more sympathy for the villain than for the supposed heroes. I rather wish the plane had smashed straight into Archie and put him out of my misery.

This is one of those books people love because it's about people getting away with murder. It trivializes the impact of those murders on the victims' families and glamorizes the genius of the killers.

It's gross.

It's really well-constructed, but it's still completely gross. I suspect it was meant to be edgily offensive at the time of publication, too, at least in as much as it cashes in on (and heightens) Depression- (and gangster-) era nihilism.

disability tag for show more a mobility impaired protagonist & a bizarrely mentally ill female character.
gender politics tag for offensive epic misogyny.

I really hate that this was so well-written. I ought to give more stars, but books without heroes piss me off. This only has villains and victims and bystanders. :( show less

This book is Exhibit A in the argument for not always starting to read a series with the first book. And yes, I usually do start with the first book when I can, and sometimes it's absolutely essential in order to fully appreciate how the characters evolve. But Stout's Nero Wolfe series of mysteries, which were written over a span of time between 1938 and 1975, are most certainly the exception that proves the rule.

That's due in large part to the way Stout structures the books. While the setting of each book reflects the time period in which it was written, the characters themselves — enormously sedentary detecting genius Nero Wolfe; his handsome, wisecracking, athletic assistant Archie Goodwin (swoon); live-in gourmet French chef show more Fritz; police nemeses Inspector Cramer and Sergeant Stebbins; newspaperman Lon Cohen — never change. They remain the same ages and personalities from the first book to the last, with only minor exceptions. Wolfe is forever in his mid 50s, Archie is forever 32-ish, and so on.

It might sound odd to think of characters never aging even as they operate in a New York City and an American culture that changes drastically, but somehow Stout makes it work. And it has the advantage of avoiding the absurdity of Robert B. Parker's detective Spenser, who in the early 1970s is a Korean War vet and ages at a normal pace through the series, yet is still somehow kicking ass and taking names in the 21st century, well past the age he should be worrying bout breaking a hip during one of his inevitable fisticuffs.

While it's true that Stout's characters remain the same age, that's not to say that they sprang fully formed from the beginning, and that brings us around to why you shouldn't start this series with this book, the first. It took maybe 3 or 4 full-length novels before Stout had fully found Archie's and Nero's voices. Having read the later masterpieces like [If Death Ever Slept], a discerning reader will find the dialogue a bit stilted in this maiden effort without the characteristic sparkle and sass that would develop in Archie's first-person narration once Stout hit his stride.

The mystery, though, is still first-rate, involving a snake, a golf club, and an airplane — to say more would be to say too much. Just do me and yourself a favor and don't read it until you've already fallen in love with Wolfe's World. Hands off Archie, though; I saw him first. show less

Fer-de-Lance is Rex Stout's first Nero Wolfe mystery and everything it is cracked up to be. I am torn between being appalled at myself for not reading the entire series earlier and giddy that I have the whole series to look forward to.

This first mystery introduces the portly genius and establishes him as an orchard-growing, beer-drinking eccentric who stays inside his New York brownstone while his intrepid sidekick, Archie Goodwin, does the legwork. Stout creates intriguing context for the duo with several references to prior cases and earlier fame.

In this case, Wolfe is asked to find a missing Italian immigrant and ends up solving the murder of a golf-playing college president. Throughout, Wolfe's somewhat pompous self-aggrandizement show more is balanced by Goodwin's wise-cracking narration. The book is funny and clever and the plot itself is even pretty good, in a vintage, 1934 kind of way.

Also posted on Rose City Reader. show less

This classic detective story is the first in Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe series, and it was my first Rex Stout as well. I was immediately totally immersed in the 1930’s, with fashion, language and settings and over all this was a fun read about an eccentric genius and his smart talking assistant, Archie Goodwin as they track down a murderer.

The plot was intriguing enough to hold my attention, but I can see staying with the series simply to read more about these characters. Full of idiosyncrasies, Nero Wolfe is a recluse who never leaves his brownstone in New York City. Instead he employs people to do his footwork for him, first and foremost is Archie Goodwin. Smooth talking and slick, Archie is our narrator and the story is revealed show more through his eyes. These two are perfect foils for each other, one has the brains, the other the brawn and together they make one perfect detective.

I found Fer-de-Lance to be both well written and enjoyable and certainly plan on reading more about this quirky twosome. show less