Pulp poems, book reviews, and other tidbits from the noirboiled world
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Review: Richard Stark, The Seventh (1966)
The heist itself is an afterthought in the seventh Parker novel because all the problems come after the fact. After the robbery goes flawlessly, Parker is in charge of guarding the loot until time comes to divvy up with his partners, but when he steps out for ten minutes to buy beer and cigarettes, he steps back in to find the money gone. And his girl dead, too. What follows is typical Parker as problem-solver—up until the point when Parker's judgment fails him and makes a colossally brazen and unnecessary gambit. But this one of the things that gives the ongoing cartoon of Parker's life the air of reality: Parker isn't perfect. Sometimes, in fact, he can be quite stupid. Grade: B-
A: Excellent. I intend to read it again. B: Good. I might read it again. C: So-so. I didn't mind reading it. D: Bad. I resented reading it. F: Atrocious. I finished it only because I'm compulsive that way.