The Ghost Writer

The Ghost Writer by Philip Roth (1979) This is the first of a series of books with the character and narrator Nathan Zuckerman, who is to some degree based on Philip Roth. Oddly, the first of his books I ever read was Exit Ghost (2007), which is the last Zuckerman novel. I liked it a lot, but still haven't read much by him—maybe I will, yet—I really like his writing. This story is Zuckerman looking back a couple decades, to a couple of days when he visited this older, famous writer at his home out in the country, among some snowy mountains. It's heavy and kind of claustrophobic—also there is the writer's unhappy wife, and young student—who Zuckerman immediately has a crush on—and also speculates may be the writer's mistress—and also possibly Anne Frank. There's a fascinating, terribly dramatic dinner, and then Zuckerman stays over. During a sleepless night his mind is pretty active, trying to negotiate the tense and uncomfortable social occasion, while also thinking about his conflicts with his family about his own writing. It made me think about this idea that I am confounded by—on one hand, it seems like, as a writer, you're likely to make less impact, on either culture or people you know, than any other way imaginable. On the other hand, it's probably the most likely way to piss people off and lose friends. The feeling I got from this book is kind of the acknowledgment of this contradictory nature of being a writer. It's pathetic, hopeless, and a little sad—while at the same time the most exciting and fulfilling possible way to live—if it's the thing you have to do.

The Great Airport Mystery

The Great Airport Mystery by Franklin W. Dixon (1930) When the Hardy Boys are introduced in this book, the 9th in the series, it's revealed that Frank, the older brother, had had an illness at one point and missed a lot of school, so was held back one year, and is therefore in the same grade as Joe. I don't know if I ever heard that in any other Hardy Boy books. Also, they are finishing up their Senior year of high school, here, so they may have been thinking about, in future books, having them both going off to college—you'd kind of want them both going at the same time, right? I looked at the intro paragraphs in the next book (What Happened at Midnight), and sure enough, they're back in high school—of course—and the way they proceeded is to keep them young—high school age—forever. Anyway, they're heading out to the new airport at the opening, and instead of a crazy driver running them off the road, this time it's a drunken airplane pilot who almost lands his plane on their car! Also, interesting is they go back to Cabin Island, but now in the summer. Of course, they get caught in a big storm—always my favorite part of every book! Then, in another unique twist, Frank and Joe get arrested!—as suspects in the airmail robbery. What's funny is that Chief Collig actually suspects them, and even their dad has to be convinced they're innocent. They're even worried, themselves, that they won't be able to clear their names, so they work extra hard to solve the mystery. In order to do surveillance on the airmail thieves, they hide in the back of the their plane, in a cargo compartment. Remember, this book came out in 1930, so think 1920s airplanes! At one point the steering cable gets caught on the sleeve of one of the Hardys and the plane nearly crashes. It's a totally insane way to proceed in this case, which makes it a pretty lively book. They take along blankets, water, milk, sandwiches, and CAKE. I mean, why not.

Fun With Our Friends

Fun With Our Friends (1963) is a “Primer” from the New Cathedral Basic Reading Program. For reasons I can't really justify, I have collected a lot of children's school books, particularly of the “social studies” area. I guess this would be a book used in “reading” class. For one thing, I guess I loved social studies when I was in school, so it's a bit of crude nostalgia. Also, I'm interested in old books with illustrations (not photos, usually), so maybe I'm mostly attracted to the children's book illustration style—that's true. It goes without saying that many of these books represent only white people, and this one doesn't even show a city, or even small town—it's pretty much wealthy, suburban and rural white people. It's wholesome and happy to an extreme. For the most part, I can't find anything of interest in this one, unless it's used ironically. There are a few oddities, though. In one episode, the father is opening a cardboard box (it's his new grill) and it looks exactly like a cardboard box you'd see today—even the Amazon symbol is on it. Just kidding. Then there's a chapter called “A Ride on Clown”—fortunately, though—or maybe disappointing—Clown is the name of a pony. The best thing I saw in here is an episode where they made a big, toxic, yellow, birthday cake, but then forgot it at home, and so the clever grandmother cut a watermelon in half, stuck candles in it, and used that as a birthday cake. I've never seen that before, but I'm going to keep that in mind for future birthday parties.

Beverly Gray's Scoop

Beverly Gray's Scoop by Clair Blank (1954) This is the first Beverly Gray book I've read. It's one of the later ones, the second to last of 25 or so published from the Thirties into the Fifties. I decided it would be too much to try to find them all and read them in order, so I just tried this one—but I liked it enough that I want to read more. There were a lot of characters for a relatively short kids' book, and a pretty good mystery. Beverly Gray and her three friends live in New York City—all young professionals—Beverly works as a reporter for a newspaper. There is a young woman named Kay who is Beverly's rival at a competing newspaper, so they're always trying to “scoop” each other on stories. This mystery involves the secret of the uncle of one of Beverly's roommates' fiance. The uncle has just returned from an excursion in Egypt, has some kind of secret, but dies before he can reveal it. The whole thing gets pretty convoluted—there are multiple underworld figures involved. There's even a subplot involving jealousy and romance. They all have pretty vibrant lives in Manhattan and surrounding areas, and they eat at restaurants and diners quite a bit, which is, of course, my favorite element. But I also found the mystery and intrigue pretty satisfying.

The Moon Tenders

The Moon Tenders by August Derleth (1958) This is by famous Wisconsin author, August Derleth, who wrote an astounding number of books, but I'm not going to go into his history—for one, that could be a separate biography book—plus, I don't know much, but it's worth looking up—a really interesting character. Also, this title is the first book of a series, I believe called the “Mill Creek Irregulars”—but you have no indication of that on this copy—it appears to be a standalone mystery, involving two high school age boys in “Sac Prairie” Wisconsin. Derleth lived in Prairie Du Sac/Sauk City, and I guess set this series of mysteries in the area, using actual places and geography—so if you lived around there, it would be fun to follow along—or even with a good map, you can find the places. I'm not sure of the time period, but it's much earlier than the publication date, so it has a real old-time feel to it, but it's also not dependent on time-period specifics, so it has a real “timeless” feeling to it. The writing in the book is very good, quite literary. It's a lot more detailed, well-written, and philosophical than most boys adventure books. They are dealing with some real family issues, and ethics. It's just a great adventure, too, about these two friends who build a raft, then take it down the Wisconsin River, a ways. You can actually follow their progress on a map. They go to a place called “Bogus Bluff,” which is a real place, on the river. The mystery gets going quite slowly, so there's a real build to it. They discover a cave, and some counterfeiters, eventually, but I don't want to give away the story. I think anyone I know who likes reading fiction should check this book out—it's really good! And the way it played out—very satisfying—it didn't feel sensational at all—it was actually believable. Also, I felt a real sense of danger, like this visceral feeling of worry for these two boys—I mean, I was sweating for them. The counterfeiters are really great, complex, well-drawn characters, too—I felt like I was watching an old movie, and a good one. This book is kind of hard to find, but worth looking for—and if anyone sees any of the other titles in the series (hard to find, a bit collectable, and expensive), please let me know—I want to read them all—preferably in order.

I'm Thinking of Ending Things

I'm Thinking of Ending Things by Iain Reid (2016) Someone recommended this book to me awhile back, and while reading it I found out that a movie by Charlie Kaufman was going to be based on it. That doesn't happen too often, the timing. A brief description of the book mentions that it's a “thriller”—and I normally stay away from that kind of stuff—thrillers, horror, etc. (though I do love The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson). Oddly, I recently watched The Birds (1963) for the nth time, and I still don't know if I love or hate that movie, but maybe that's its strength. Around the same time, I happened to hear the author, Iain Reid, on a podcast, and I really liked him. Also, there's a snowy picture on the cover, and a lot of snow in the story. I'm a simple person. I want snow, pizza, a fireplace. I also like really commonplace things and conversation, even what most people find “boring.” I loved these characters driving in a car talking, and a lot of the interesting side subjects. However, there are elements that instantly unnerve you, keep you unbalanced, and don't allow you to get footing in reality. That is to some degree the point, and I'm not going to reveal anything further, but I'm not sure I even understand how it all falls together—and that's okay with me—in fact, I like that, usually—but only if there is something underneath it all, like the feeling you get when the weather changes. I heard a good argument recently (in regard to movies based on books) that you should see the movie first. I always felt the other way around—but in this case, you might take in these two forms simultaneously. That might be fun, but more fun with a friend, I suppose, because neither one of these works is going to hold your hand. Ultimately, I'm not going to come around to thrillers, psychological or otherwise, but it's good to get out of your usual habits once in awhile.

Cat Parade

Cat Parade – cartoon drawings by Jeff Curtis (2019) Volume 1. This is a large, full color, 64 page book of drawings from Jeff Curtis, who is an artist, musician, and friend to cats. There is a huge variety of stuff here, from multiple panel cartoons to full page drawings, to multiple page episodes, with many approaches and styles. The one thing it all has in common is, yes, cats—renderings from fairly naturalistic to nearly abstract, comic, demonic, fantastic, even cute. There are cats here for every idea of the essence of cats. If you're like me, you love all animals, but find there is something about cats that goes beyond... I don't know what it is. Or maybe you don't like cats... in which case, I feel sorry for you. But you can change. Everyone can change. Cats are a good place to start! Here's a little known fact: You can be a “Dog Person” and still love cats. If I have to pick a favorite drawing here—I can't really, but maybe the black cat emerging from a cup of diner coffee. That's four of my favorite things in one odd drawing: black cats, diner coffee, magic, and etc.

Moving Day

Moving Day by Helen Train Hilles (1954) This is a charming, old, library book, beat up but indestructible, for kids (it says: “Ages 5 to 8”—which seems narrow to me, but what do I know about children's reading levels). It's especially appealing because of these great wood-cut-like illustrations by Jean Tamburine. It's probably meant to be helpful for kids who are going through the weirdness of moving from their childhood home to somewhere new—which is something I didn't go through as a kid—and I'm thankful about that, and also feel a bit like I missed out on something. This family moves from a house into a brand new housing project apartment block. The kids are pretty alienated by the new place, but they adjust. There are a few odd details—this is over half a century ago, after all. When they are packing, they put a lot of odds and ends into some old-fashioned barrels, you know, like wooden barrels—packed with excelsior. Then the movers just take the barrel. This seems to make a lot of sense—that's the hardest part of moving—all the little stuff that doesn't seem to fit in anywhere, but you have to handle it. I wonder why we've gotten away from using barrels for anything?

Homer Price

Homer Price by Robert McCloskey (1943) This was one of my favorite books when I was a kid, and I've carried around a copy with me ever since, but I hadn't actually read it in so long, it was like a new book to me. It was actually pretty surprising, how strange these six stories are, funny and sophisticated. It's also illustrated by Robert McCloskey, and he's one of the best. I'm not going to take the time to describe each of these stories—they're all quite different—except for one, called “The Doughnuts”—probably the most well-known—a short film was made from it, and you can watch it on youtube. I was surprised to find a piece of paper in the book, with a handwritten short story I wrote, called “The Doughnuts”—I might get around to reading that, sometime—who knows. The story in the book is about a Homer's uncle's lunch counter, where one evening his automatic doughnut machine goes berserk and keeps making doughnuts—like thousands of them. It really appeals to the imagination, and the excellent illustrations don't hurt! As a young man I discovered a diner in my hometown that had a similar doughnut machine—which became one of my personal seven wonders of the world. One more thing—I started writing a novel in the late 1990s, and I've worked on it on and off since—but finally finished it this month. It went through several different titles in its long and involved evolution, and I'm not exactly sure when I finally settled on the title, The Doughnuts, but that's what it is.

Chuck Klosterman X

Chuck Klosterman X by Chuck Klosterman (2017) This book is titled Chuck Klosterman X, I guess, not just X, and is a pretty hefty collection of articles he wrote for magazines, with a good index—I got it out of the library to read one specific thing, but since we have not been able to return library books, I put it in the bathroom and it served as my on-the-toilet reading for a significant part of the quarantine. I hope that doesn't gross anyone out—I wash my hands as much as the next guy, if not more. Anyway, it was a great book for that, really fun and comforting and intellectually stimulating, and I read it from cover to cover. He writes about various popular culture, though about music and sports, primarily—two of my major interests—but the standouts for me were an article about nostalgia, and one about social media, both of them a bit mind-expanding. And also a few of the interviews, particularly ones with Stephen Malkmus and Jimmy Page, because I like those guys. But also, it was fun reading the interviews and profiles about people I knew nothing about. Oh, also, an article about the Cleveland Browns is pretty great. The longest and possibly most impressive piece in the book is an extensive examination of the band KISS—the extent of it! If Klosterman was ever forced to present himself to the “Master of Lunacy”—as in the movie The Ruling Class (1972)—he'd be wise to leave this bit of evidence out of his defense. Hopefully it doesn't come to that, however, because, for me, he does as much as anyone to provide a voice of sanity in this unhinged world none of us are going to escape from.

Ginny Gordon and the Mystery at the Old Barn

Ginny Gordon and the Mystery at the Old Barn by Julie Campbell (1951) This is the third Ginny Gordon book, and she her friends fix up an old barn, call it the Snack Barn, where they will serve food to the locals. She and her friends call themselves “The Hustlers” (this was well before The Hustler with Paul Newman, “Do the Hustle,” and Hustler magazine—Larry Flynt would have been about nine when this book came out, so who knows). The problem with their plan is a “Hillbilly” singer (who plays accordion) from Kentucky has showed up in town and started singing at the Inn (an established place in town), and he's made such a big splash, they're afraid it will kill their new business before it gets established. This singer, whose name is Lochinvar, is so charismatic, you'd think he was Elvis, but this book came out in 1951, a few years before the Elvis' first records. For a long stretch, this book just seems like it's going to be comic episodes of mishaps at the Snack Barn and Ginny's friends trying to thwart the singer, but eventually a really convoluted and exciting mystery develops. I won't give it away, because I assume if you're reading this, you'll likely want to read this book.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling (1997) It's kind of shocking to realize the first Harry Potter book came out 23 years ago—it feels like a very recent thing to me. But then, 1997 feels like just yesterday to me, as well. Because these books were such a big thing, and are such a big part of our culture, I felt like I should read one. If I loved it, maybe I'd read them all, since I'm someone who reads children's books regularly, anyway. I enjoyed this book for the most part, since it's a forward-moving, exciting story, and there are some pretty odd details here and there. But I don't think I'll read more—for one thing, there are seven books—and it seems like they all get longer, too! It's no surprise to me that the book is well-written, and the characters are well-drawn, etc.—I expected that. I was thinking I might find some clue within that points to such an immense popularity, but I can't find it. I'm sure there are countless things written about that, somewhere, but in a way, I'm not sure if I really care, because that would be similar to trying to figure out the why the immense popularity of all the immensely popular books—as well as movies, music, etc.—that have little if any appeal to me. I mean, at least I thought this book was entertaining. A lot of popular stuff I find to be garbage. My major problem with Harry Potter has to do with subject matter—I'm just not interested at all in the entire realm of “wizards”—which includes all the wizard books and movies ever made. Unless someone can convince me that there are actual, real wizards in the world (I'm sure that many people do believe this), whenever I come across a wizard story, I just keep flipping the channel. In a more general way of looking at it, I'm not that interested in “fantasy.” A lot of people love fantasy, and sometimes I wonder why I don't. Is it that they just have a more visceral connection to the metaphorical side of fantasy stories—where someone like me can see it, but not feel it? Or maybe there is something else—say how some people are easily bored by the commonplace, while I'm enchanted by it. I'm not saying one way of looking at things is better than the other, but there sure is a difference! As a final, positive, note, here's a quote I wrote down, from the end of story pretty much, that I like a lot—this is said by Dumbledore, about the scary, evil wizard, who previously, people refused to even name: “Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.” I feel like that is kind of the heart of the whole thing, ultimately—it's a strong and important idea. I do kind of wonder if that idea is explored in further books. Anyway, if that's a message that gets through to kids (or anyone) reading this book, that's a good thing.

X Marks the Spy

X Marks the Spy by Jack Lancer (1967) This is the first of the Christoper Cool TEEN Agent books, a six book series from the late Sixties—I saw several of them at an antique store—I'd never seen them, or heard of this series, so kind of against my better judgment, I bought the first one. As expected, it's kind of a teen version of James Bond, though without the sex, drinking, smoking, and gambling that teens are famous for. The action story is not my thing, but I wanted to get through it—though it was a bit of a struggle. Chris is kind of a frat-boy, and his co-agent is named Geronimo Johnson, who is an Apache. At least they are somewhat of equal stature—he's not just there for comic relief. There's also a young woman agent, Spice Carter, who I suspect Chris is attracted to, but they're just too busy for much fooling around. Probably the most ridiculous escapade in the book is, at one point, in order to attend a crucial event, Chris puts on an impromptu disguise as a Swahili by donning an ornate curtain and applying some spy makeup to his face and hair. Mostly, though, I found the book only mildly offensive, but also, oddly, too contemporary for me. It's funny, a lot of my favorite movies and music is from the early Seventies or so, but with kids' series books, I have to go back a few more decades before I find them interesting, for the most part. I'm not sure why that is.

The Riddle in Red

The Riddle in Red by Betsy Allen (1948) This is the second Connie Blair Mystery, and next to the first (The Clue in Blue), it feels a little claustrophobic, maybe just because most of it deals with her new job as a receptionist at an ad agency. Maybe it's a little too close to home. But then, I really liked the first one a lot, so there's a lot to live up to. Again Connie Blair heads out of her small home town, to Philadelphia, and stays with her very cool aunt—this time she's landed a job at pretty fancy-pants ad agency. It starts out with some real true-to-life job stuff—kind of oppressive, but Connie has a good attitude. Soon she gets mixed up in a mystery involving this intense woman who is the head a cosmetics company. It's funny, I just saw a Columbo episode that was centered on the cosmetics industry, and I swear a couple of the characters, including the cosmetics woman (who is also the murderer, played by Vera Myles) are based directly on this book! It was kind of eerie! I won't say what happens in this story (very different than the Columbo) but it is a pretty good mystery, with a satisfying conclusion. The two Connie Blair mysteries that I've now read were both good, and much better written than most of these series book—I mean, kind of strikingly well-written, at least in my opinion (I am, of course, an adult who reads kids' books). So I'm definitely planning on reading the next one—and maybe even the entire series (there are only 12 in all). They each have the name of a color as part of the title, like the Travis McGee books. I'm kind of a sucker for stuff like that.

The Mystery of Cabin Island

The Mystery of Cabin Island by Franklin W. Dixon (1929) This is the eighth Hardy Boy Mystery and a favorite one to many, including me. It doesn't have the best mystery, and it doesn't have the high weirdness of many of the original texts of the early Hardys, but it's maybe the best winter kid's book I've read—and I love the winter ones. The Hardys, Frank and Joe, along with friends Chet and Biff, get permission to spend Christmas week at a rustic cabin on an island out in the bay near where they live. They reach it by ice boat (there's a lot of ice boating action in this book). There are some intense snow storms, of course—almost the highlight of the book for me. Being in a cabin, in weather, and making good food. You almost don't need a mystery. But there is one, with some unsavory characters—though no one really too bad, which is actually kind of nice. Oh, also, there's clue involving a cipher! You can't beat that (and you can try to solve it yourself, if you like that kind of thing). The only downside of this book, for me, was almost an entire chapter involving a fox hunt (if you're a hunter, you might be into this). These were different times. The kids have guns with them. I could never hunt animals, and especially not foxes—there are some near where I live, and they're pretty cute! I used to get a Hardy Boy book every Christmas when I was a kid, and it must have been a pretty good one the year I got this book and started reading it next to the fireplace. I've read it over several times since. That first night they're on Cabin Island, a delicious dinner, and then to bed with the wind howling—and then the ghost! It's the best.

This Planet is Doomed

This Planet is Doomed by Sun Ra (2011) I bought a copy of this book the last time (I think) I was in New York, at a small bookstore—and it just really cheered me up—it's the kind of book that's nice to have—“the science fiction poetry” of Sun Ra, who I was, and still am, a big fan of. I saw him and his “Arkestra” play in Columbus, Ohio, at a fairly small club, sometime in the 80s, I think, and it was pretty inspiring. He recorded a lot of music over the years, some of it pretty out there, but when I'm in the mood for it, there's nothing better. Like most poetry books, I didn't read through this from cover to cover—I pick it up now and then and try to find something that connects with me. It's nice to let the words wash over you, or if you're feeling up to it, read one really closely. Sun Ra claimed to have visited Saturn, and even though that's a pretty outrageous story, I more or less believe him.

On Writing

On Writing by Stephen King (2000) This book is subtitled “A Memoir of the Craft” and is part memoir and part advice for young, new, or aspiring writers, as well as people like me, old, old, aspiring writers. There is a lot of plain advice in this book, stuff you might get from other books about writing, or good teachers of writing. Some of it is stuff I learned and forgot. You've got to keep relearning that stuff, like with any other activity, like brain surgery or baking—though, unlike, apparently, riding a bike. Besides this advice, and nuts and bolts stuff, he also talks about why he started writing, how things happened for him, his writing habits, and most significant of all, I feel, the joy he gets from it. Relating all this stuff—in writing, naturally—is easy to understand and compelling to read. I guess there's a reason he sells so many books—he's a really good writer. Also, pretty likable. That shouldn't be surprising necessarily, except that many, many people who are even near his level of success and wealth seem to be raging assholes. Oh, and the last part of the book is his account of this terrible accident he was in, and how it affected him. It sounds like he's lucky to be alive, and grateful to be alive, and grateful for all his success, too. I've never read a novel by Stephen King (generally horror is not my thing—I mean, it's not, at all), but I might read one now. I was happy to read this book, found it helpful and inspirational.

My Struggle: Book 1

My Struggle: Book1 by Karl Ove Knausgaard (2009) My friend Elissa and I once joked how we'd write a book called the Bible—just the idea seemed like the most punk rock thing you could do—but seeing how “bible” has been appropriated by everyone writing guides, from experts to idiots, it feels much more punk rock to name your book Min Kamp, since Hitler is a guy most people still shy away from sharing a bunkbed with. And seeing how the English title, My Struggle, practically gift-wraps easy, humorous reviews by lazy book critics, you kind of have to admire Karl Ove Knausgaard as someone who seems not to give a fuck. And writing about barely or not disguised close friends and family in intimate detail would seem to confirm that. On the other hand, you sense he cares deeply about people, as well, and the world at large, as well as the most minute corner of his experience—and I think those seemingly contradictory elements are partly responsible for this six volume literary home-run. Personally, I did have trouble getting through Book One, but then I was really impressed with how he slowed things down to such an insane extent the further you got into it—so the ending section, about putting things in order at his father's house, after his death—it's kind of incredible. It might take him a page to roll a cigarette. Seeing how I love the approach of elevating the mundane, blurring memoir and fiction, and all with straight-ahead crystal clear style, you'd think this is the book for me. I did like it, too, even if it took my slow reading self a long time to get through it. Where I didn't connect, I guess, is just the slightly alien flavor of another country, a marriage, children (his childhood, and I'm guessing, in later books, his children). So I did enjoy reading this one, but the next five, I don't think so.

The Moving Picture Girls at Oak Farm

The Moving Picture Girls at Oak Farm by Laura Lee Hope (1914) The subtitle of this book is: Or Queer Happenings While Taking Rural Plays. I love how old books used to have subtitles—I wonder if that's something I should make a point in doing—that is, if I ever write fiction again. Laura Lee Hope, of course, is not a person, but a name the publisher used as an author for any number of series books. Sometimes you can find out who the real author is if you dig deep enough. Whoever wrote this one might have authored any number of series books at the time. This book is really well-written, just surprisingly so. For a book that's over 100 years old, it has a fairly contemporary sensibility—I think anyone could read this now and enjoy it as a somewhat comic mystery of about a troupe of filmmakers who go to the country and stay on a farm in order to shoot silent film that is then processed back in New York and put out as entertainment. A lot of the ideas, sensibility, frustrations, and problems with filmmaking was, apparently, then pretty much exactly the same as it is now! There are a lot ongoing threads and gags about the characters' envy of each other, and stage actors feeling film is beneath them, and the kind of focused craziness of the filmmakers to capture images. Several times there are fiascos and mistakes that turn out to be interesting on film and reroute the direction of the stories being made. There are a lot of characters—more than I could easily follow, so I just let it flow and didn't worry about it. There's a fairly predictable mystery running through the story, of course, that has a satisfying outcome. Did I mention that there is a bee swarm? I don't want to give anything away, but the chapter with the bee swarm is particularly exciting, well-written, and even educational! I was pretty excited to find this book, as it was the first I'd heard of the Moving Picture Girls, and the book itself, judging by endpaper ads, is likely from the early Twenties, so it's kind of exciting just handling something that old—and exactly in the fashion for which it was intended—lying in bed reading, engaging my imagination. I liked this one enough to read another of the series, if I ever find one—the title of the next adventure, Snowbound, is particularly appealing to me.

The Secret of the Caves

The Secret of the Caves by Franklin W. Dixon (1929) Even though you can't beat the title of this book (The Secret of the Caves!), it's not a very good Hardy Boy mystery. It's probably my least favorite of the ones I've read lately. It's written by Leslie McFarlane, the original Hardy Boys author, but remember, he was just cranking these out (and other series books) for a meager paycheck. The writing is pretty flaccid, especially the adventure segments, which is what most of the book is... one rescue after another, that includes the sea, cliffs, and caves. Not enough mystery and too much danger, for me. Either of the Hardys could have been killed three or four times—really, the series should have been over after seven books, ending with friends putting flowers on their graves. There's the usual storm that comes up suddenly, at least (my favorite story element), and there are some pretty good descriptions of these mind-numbingly vast caves. What is kind of weird is the last book (The Shore Road Mystery) also took place at the caves, and one of criminals in that story has escaped from jail. The Hardys re-capture him (a guy named Carl Schaum!) only because they happen upon him while he's drunk and passed out on the beach! That's just a side plot, but the main story is similarly only solved due to coincidence. There's just not enough food, not enough hijinks, and most of all, not enough weirdness to make this a memorable Hardy Boys adventure. The good thing is that the next book, The Mystery of Cabin Island, is one the best, if not the best.