As I’ve mentioned before, the short Pocket Books editions with Robert McGinnis covers are the classic Perry Mason editions as far as I’m concerned. They’re the ones I saw on spinner racks and in used bookstores when I was growing up in the Sixties. (I’m also fond of the Triangle Books cheap hardback reprints published by Blakiston, many of which I checked out from our local library, but that’s probably the subject of another post.)
This Mason novel was published originally by William Morrow in 1943. The copy I
read, which is the scan above, is the ninth Pocket Books printing from November
1962. So it’s sixty years old this month and in great shape for its age, square
and uncreased and with only lightly tanned pages. But is it any good, you ask?
Well, it’s a Perry Mason novel. Of course it’s enjoyable . . . but with a few
reservations.
Most of the Mason novels start with a potential client showing up at Perry’s
office and being announced by Della Street. This is one of the rare entries
where Erle Stanley Gardner introduces most of the major characters and sets up
the situation before Perry, Della, and Paul Drake ever appear. We have a mountain
cabin belonging to a wealthy banker, the banker’s beautiful unmarried daughter,
the banker’s other, somewhat less attractive daughter who’s married to a cad
and a bounder, a stalwart GI who’s been wounded in action, discharged, and sent
home to recuperate, a beautiful widow who runs a nearby ranch, an
artist/wildlife photographer (who seems perfectly healthy; why isn’t he off
fighting in the war?), yet another beautiful young woman and her brother, an
abandoned mine, and the buried clock of the title, which is set for the wrong
time.
Naturally, there’s a murder at the cabin, Perry is hired to defend the person put
on trial for the crime, and the final third of the novel is a series of
courtroom scenes with Perry sparring against a new opponent, an assistant
district attorney named McNair, before the prosecution brings in poor old
Hamilton Burger to deliver the knockout punch and finally convict one of Perry’s
clients. Yeah, right.
The plot is the usual complicated stew of motives and deceptions, and the large
cast of characters (some of whom are just names and never actually appear in
the book) make the story hard to follow at times. The clock seems to be
forgotten for most of the book before it plays a major part at the end, and the
killer’s motive really seems to come from farther out in left field than usual
in these books. Because of that, I can’t put THE CASE OF THE BURIED CLOCK in
the top rank of Perry Mason novels, but it’s still quite a bit of fun to read
anyway. At this point in the series, Perry is farther away from his pulp roots,
but he’s still a little rough around the edges and doesn’t hesitate to bend the
law on behalf of his client. And the banter between Perry, Della, and Paul is
top-notch and pretty funny in places. Gardner’s writing seems a little more
descriptive at times, too, and he does a fine job with the setting. If you’ve
never read a Perry Mason novel before, this probably wouldn’t be a great one to
start with. If you’re a long-time fan like me, you’ll probably find enough to
like to make reading it worthwhile.
5 comments:
Which begs the question, which one should one start with? Velvet claws and go on chronologically?
That's not a bad idea, and it certainly would demonstrate how the series evolved over the years. I don't remember the first one I read, but it might have been THE CASE OF THE VELVET CLAWS. It was one of the early books from the Thirties, I'm sure of that.
I believe Gardner had two boxes of words (adjectives, nouns) on cards and took one from each. Or lists - titles are often alliterative. Then he dreamed up a plot to fit.
Lucy, that sounds like a feasible theory to me.
I love the 1930s Perry Mason books because I like Perry's approach to legal ethics. It's only unethical if you get caught.
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