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Night of the Jabberwock
Doc Stoeger, the editor of a small weekly paper, is framed for two murders and is determined to prove his innocence
202 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1950
35 people are currently reading
845 people want to read
About the author
Fredric Brown
776books346followersFredric Brown was an American science fiction and mystery writer. He was one of the boldest early writers in genre fiction in his use of narrative experimentation. While never in the front rank of popularity in his lifetime, Brown has developed a considerable cult following in the almost half century since he last wrote. His works have been periodically reprinted and he has a worldwide fan base, most notably in the U.S. and Europe, and especially in France, where there have been several recent movie adaptations of his work. He also remains popular in Japan.
Never financially secure, Brown - like many other pulp writers - often wrote at a furious pace in order to pay bills. This accounts, at least in part, for the uneven quality of his work. A newspaperman by profession, Brown was only able to devote 14 years of his life as a full-time fiction writer. Brown was also a heavy drinker, and this at times doubtless affected his productivity. A cultured man and omnivorous reader whose interests ranged far beyond those of most pulp writers, Brown had a lifelong interest in the flute, chess, poker, and the works of Lewis Carroll. Brown married twice and was the father of two sons.
Never financially secure, Brown - like many other pulp writers - often wrote at a furious pace in order to pay bills. This accounts, at least in part, for the uneven quality of his work. A newspaperman by profession, Brown was only able to devote 14 years of his life as a full-time fiction writer. Brown was also a heavy drinker, and this at times doubtless affected his productivity. A cultured man and omnivorous reader whose interests ranged far beyond those of most pulp writers, Brown had a lifelong interest in the flute, chess, poker, and the works of Lewis Carroll. Brown married twice and was the father of two sons.
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December 21, 2020
What a strange book
Review of Kindle edition
Publication date:December 26, 2016
Publisher:Endeavour Venture
Language:English
ASIN:B01N1WIER0
What a strange book even for Fredric Brown. Not sci-fi but one of his crime novels, the action from about page 83 to the end is almost a fairly normal crime story with an involved, twisted plot to keep the reader on the edge of his seat. But the first 83 pages read almost as if they are part of a different book. After complaining about owning a small town weekly newspaper for 23 years and never having a real story, events dump a plethora of stories in Doc's lap all in one night. Then the last part of the book makes everything which went before seem almost ordinary. Doc gets his wish for a real story in spades.
If you don't know why Yehudi Smith is such a humorous and hard to believe name, I didn't either so I looked it up:
"The most common story ties it to the Pepsodent-sponsored Bob Hope radio show on NBC, which started in 1938. There was a running gag on the show, a catchphrase of supporting player Jerry Colonna, who would regularly ask: “Who’s Yehudi?”. This became extremely popular and provoked a song in 1941. (These were simpler days.)
The earliest example I found of Yehudi used in print as a sense of something that isn’t there, is from theScience News Letterof September 1940: “The machine has not received a nickname as yet. Since it deals with imaginary numbers, it may answer to the name of ‘Yehudi’.” In 1942, a film entitledCrazy Cruisefeatured an invisible battleship, the SS Yehudi. The following year, one of the very earliest US military stealth projects was called Project Yehudi.
I haven’t been able to find any earlier references, so the word really may have its origin in Jerry Colonna’s catchphrase. If it does, then there may well be a connection with violinist Yehudi Menuhin. The story claims that Menuhin was engaged to play on one of the early shows, but that Jerry Colonna didn’t know who he was, and went around asking the cast. This is supposed to have led to the running gag of his trying to identify Yehudi.
Part of the popularity of Yehudi as a term for an invisible entity may lie in a linkage in people’s minds with a rhyme by Hughes Mearns that was set to music asThe Little Man Who Wasn’t Therein 1939 — just when the Colonna catchphrase was becoming known. - From a post on World Wide Words.
Even though I thoroughly enjoyed this strange Fredric Brown book, I gave it only four stars because events are so unbelievable and the book is a little disjointed. I downloaded this through Kindle Unlimited.
Review updated and edited 12/20/20
Review of Kindle edition
Publication date:December 26, 2016
Publisher:Endeavour Venture
Language:English
ASIN:B01N1WIER0
What a strange book even for Fredric Brown. Not sci-fi but one of his crime novels, the action from about page 83 to the end is almost a fairly normal crime story with an involved, twisted plot to keep the reader on the edge of his seat. But the first 83 pages read almost as if they are part of a different book. After complaining about owning a small town weekly newspaper for 23 years and never having a real story, events dump a plethora of stories in Doc's lap all in one night. Then the last part of the book makes everything which went before seem almost ordinary. Doc gets his wish for a real story in spades.
If you don't know why Yehudi Smith is such a humorous and hard to believe name, I didn't either so I looked it up:
"The most common story ties it to the Pepsodent-sponsored Bob Hope radio show on NBC, which started in 1938. There was a running gag on the show, a catchphrase of supporting player Jerry Colonna, who would regularly ask: “Who’s Yehudi?”. This became extremely popular and provoked a song in 1941. (These were simpler days.)
The earliest example I found of Yehudi used in print as a sense of something that isn’t there, is from theScience News Letterof September 1940: “The machine has not received a nickname as yet. Since it deals with imaginary numbers, it may answer to the name of ‘Yehudi’.” In 1942, a film entitledCrazy Cruisefeatured an invisible battleship, the SS Yehudi. The following year, one of the very earliest US military stealth projects was called Project Yehudi.
I haven’t been able to find any earlier references, so the word really may have its origin in Jerry Colonna’s catchphrase. If it does, then there may well be a connection with violinist Yehudi Menuhin. The story claims that Menuhin was engaged to play on one of the early shows, but that Jerry Colonna didn’t know who he was, and went around asking the cast. This is supposed to have led to the running gag of his trying to identify Yehudi.
Part of the popularity of Yehudi as a term for an invisible entity may lie in a linkage in people’s minds with a rhyme by Hughes Mearns that was set to music asThe Little Man Who Wasn’t Therein 1939 — just when the Colonna catchphrase was becoming known. - From a post on World Wide Words.
Even though I thoroughly enjoyed this strange Fredric Brown book, I gave it only four stars because events are so unbelievable and the book is a little disjointed. I downloaded this through Kindle Unlimited.
Review updated and edited 12/20/20
January 4, 2017
Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC!
When I think of Fredric Brown I think of fantastical SF with quirky characters and wild happenings, so I didn't hesitate any when I saw this one up for grabs in Netgalley. Imagine my surprise when I actually acquired a mystery/thriller instead!
Though, to be honest, I didn't quite realize it at first because I was just reading it solely because I like the author and the way it began, with a heavy-drinking newspaperman who's absolutely in love with Lewis Carroll's better fiction and the theory that Caroll (the real man behind the pseudonym, the mathematician) hadn't written his works so much as he had proved and visited those realms in reality and he was just reporting the facts.
Our favorite drunkard begins his quest to find the Jabberwocky. :)
It starts out like a great adventure tale where the hero is super blitzed and yet tries so hard to succeed in this damnably difficult quest, driving around (mind you, this is 1950,) breaking into places, picking up weird Carroll friends, and generally freaking himself out with all the strange coincidences cropping up all over the place.
I admit that it took me a bit to get into the book, but by the midpoint, I was totally hooked and kinda freaked about the social weirdness of THIS MUCH HARD LIQUOR. :)
The second half of the novel keeps him quite as blitzed as the first, but this time he's embroiled in murders and he's apparently the prime perp. Again, I'm amazed he's survived this long even when he was just roaming the countryside looking for an imaginary beasty, and yet it gets better.
Because Charles Lutwidge Dodgson was, after all, a great mathematician, and was able to do some pretty wild stuff with his wild maths, it turns out that his number-one-fan is able to intuitively grasp the weird-ass plot against him and solve the case. (Also while drunk.) :)
What can I say? I'm pretty stoked. This novel snuck up on me and I lost my head snickity-snack. :) Vorpal blade! :)
When I think of Fredric Brown I think of fantastical SF with quirky characters and wild happenings, so I didn't hesitate any when I saw this one up for grabs in Netgalley. Imagine my surprise when I actually acquired a mystery/thriller instead!
Though, to be honest, I didn't quite realize it at first because I was just reading it solely because I like the author and the way it began, with a heavy-drinking newspaperman who's absolutely in love with Lewis Carroll's better fiction and the theory that Caroll (the real man behind the pseudonym, the mathematician) hadn't written his works so much as he had proved and visited those realms in reality and he was just reporting the facts.
Our favorite drunkard begins his quest to find the Jabberwocky. :)
It starts out like a great adventure tale where the hero is super blitzed and yet tries so hard to succeed in this damnably difficult quest, driving around (mind you, this is 1950,) breaking into places, picking up weird Carroll friends, and generally freaking himself out with all the strange coincidences cropping up all over the place.
I admit that it took me a bit to get into the book, but by the midpoint, I was totally hooked and kinda freaked about the social weirdness of THIS MUCH HARD LIQUOR. :)
The second half of the novel keeps him quite as blitzed as the first, but this time he's embroiled in murders and he's apparently the prime perp. Again, I'm amazed he's survived this long even when he was just roaming the countryside looking for an imaginary beasty, and yet it gets better.
Because Charles Lutwidge Dodgson was, after all, a great mathematician, and was able to do some pretty wild stuff with his wild maths, it turns out that his number-one-fan is able to intuitively grasp the weird-ass plot against him and solve the case. (Also while drunk.) :)
What can I say? I'm pretty stoked. This novel snuck up on me and I lost my head snickity-snack. :) Vorpal blade! :)
December 16, 2024
Podéis escuchar un comentario más extenso de esta novela en el tercer programa de Silba y Acudiremos:
¡Ay, que pillo eres, Fredric Brown! ¡Cómo me has engañado! Como un pelele me dejé llevar por tu reputación y creí que iba a entrar en uno de tus desvaríos marcianos, aunque en esta ocasión vistieran con sombrero de copa y tomaran el té con animalitos del bosque, emperifollados a la sazón con enaguas y volantes. Y no, resulta que decides marcarte una novela policiaca realista, aunque lo que hagas sea impermeable a este adjetivo. Porque esta novela no es negra, ni policiaca, ni convencional: es trepidante, libérrima, absurda, poblada por casualidades imposibles. Sí, como Harry Stephen Keller. Sí, como El percherón mortal.
Una novela de crímenes extravagantes y empezaré a encontrar los intersticios del tejido de la realidad.
Doc Stoeger es el director del Clarion, el periódico local de Carmel, una aburrida localidad del medio este americano. Como cualquier periodista veterano, Doc es ambicioso: busca su gran exclusiva, cubrir un gran caso. Algo del todo imposible viviendo en una comunidad de pocos habitantes en la que el suceso más insólito es la desaparición de un perro o que se cancele a última hora la rifa parroquial. A pocas horas de cerrar el último número, Doc se enfrenta al acostumbrado problema: le faltan noticias y no tiene con que rellenar los huecos. Frustrado, su tipógrafo y él rellenarán los huecos faltantes con anuncios, el periódico, a las rotativas y ellos, al bar, a pasar la noche. Cuando regresa a casa, en un adecuado estado de semiembriaguez, un hombre llama a su puerta. En su tarjeta está escrito el nombre de Yehudi Smith, y se presenta como un admirador de su trabajo y otro admirador de Lewis Carroll cuya intención es reclutarlo para una sociedad secreta de amantes de la obra del escritor y matemático victoriano. Y esto no es lo más extraño que le pasará esta noche.
Es en este momento que a la novela se le va la cabeza y Fredric Brown empieza a jugar con nosotros, pues toda la primera mitad puede considerarse eso: un juego alocado, de enredos y casualidades imposibles en el que el protagonista irá de un lado a otro intentando apagar los muchos focos dispersos de un incendio mayor, más terrible. Ver a un hombre correr sobrepasado por las fortuitas contingencias que se suceden a su alrededor, todas tan extrañas, dan ese toque a lo Alicia en el pais de las maravillas que hace que la historia transite dentro de una atmósfera irreal, mezcla de comedia screwball y conspiración oscura, hacen que todo resulte una comedia inofensiva, aunque algunas de las cosas a las que deba enfrentarse Doc no tienen nada de inofensivas. Es cuando llegamos justo a la mitad, a cierto momento en la historia, que ésta cambia por completo, y el chiste deja de tener su gracia: aquí está pasando algo de verdad, algo siniestro, malvado y peligroso.
Fredric Brown, con muchísimo buen humor, unos diálogos fluidos y creíbles y un ritmo trepidante pero perfectamente ajustado logra escribir una novela policiaca delirante que se mueve entre lo real y lo surrealista mientras no deja de homenajear a Lewis Carroll en el proceso. Y eso que el matemático literato no es aquí la clave que soluciona el misterio, aunque sí lo es su filosofía. Con esto me refiero a que esta novela no se plantea como un puzle que resolver y que las piezas sean los elementos de la obra de Carroll. No es un thriller autorreferencial, ni mucho menos. Lo que ocurre es que, cuando llega un momento en que la cordura un hombre que ya peina camas lleva toda la noche corriendo de un lado a otro, trasegando whisky tras whisky para enfrentar lo imposible, se resiente y empieza a pensar como lo haría un loco; uno muy lúcido, aficionado a los juegos de palabras, al pensamiento lateral y a tomar el té con animales silvestres.
Lo dicho, La noche a través del espejo es una novela divertidísima con la que vais a pasar unos ratos muy agradables. A mí me ha hecho desear conocer más de la ficción breve, humorística y de ciencia ficción de este autor. Así que me voy con sus marcianos.
¡Ay, que pillo eres, Fredric Brown! ¡Cómo me has engañado! Como un pelele me dejé llevar por tu reputación y creí que iba a entrar en uno de tus desvaríos marcianos, aunque en esta ocasión vistieran con sombrero de copa y tomaran el té con animalitos del bosque, emperifollados a la sazón con enaguas y volantes. Y no, resulta que decides marcarte una novela policiaca realista, aunque lo que hagas sea impermeable a este adjetivo. Porque esta novela no es negra, ni policiaca, ni convencional: es trepidante, libérrima, absurda, poblada por casualidades imposibles. Sí, como Harry Stephen Keller. Sí, como El percherón mortal.
Una novela de crímenes extravagantes y empezaré a encontrar los intersticios del tejido de la realidad.
Doc Stoeger es el director del Clarion, el periódico local de Carmel, una aburrida localidad del medio este americano. Como cualquier periodista veterano, Doc es ambicioso: busca su gran exclusiva, cubrir un gran caso. Algo del todo imposible viviendo en una comunidad de pocos habitantes en la que el suceso más insólito es la desaparición de un perro o que se cancele a última hora la rifa parroquial. A pocas horas de cerrar el último número, Doc se enfrenta al acostumbrado problema: le faltan noticias y no tiene con que rellenar los huecos. Frustrado, su tipógrafo y él rellenarán los huecos faltantes con anuncios, el periódico, a las rotativas y ellos, al bar, a pasar la noche. Cuando regresa a casa, en un adecuado estado de semiembriaguez, un hombre llama a su puerta. En su tarjeta está escrito el nombre de Yehudi Smith, y se presenta como un admirador de su trabajo y otro admirador de Lewis Carroll cuya intención es reclutarlo para una sociedad secreta de amantes de la obra del escritor y matemático victoriano. Y esto no es lo más extraño que le pasará esta noche.
Es en este momento que a la novela se le va la cabeza y Fredric Brown empieza a jugar con nosotros, pues toda la primera mitad puede considerarse eso: un juego alocado, de enredos y casualidades imposibles en el que el protagonista irá de un lado a otro intentando apagar los muchos focos dispersos de un incendio mayor, más terrible. Ver a un hombre correr sobrepasado por las fortuitas contingencias que se suceden a su alrededor, todas tan extrañas, dan ese toque a lo Alicia en el pais de las maravillas que hace que la historia transite dentro de una atmósfera irreal, mezcla de comedia screwball y conspiración oscura, hacen que todo resulte una comedia inofensiva, aunque algunas de las cosas a las que deba enfrentarse Doc no tienen nada de inofensivas. Es cuando llegamos justo a la mitad, a cierto momento en la historia, que ésta cambia por completo, y el chiste deja de tener su gracia: aquí está pasando algo de verdad, algo siniestro, malvado y peligroso.
Fredric Brown, con muchísimo buen humor, unos diálogos fluidos y creíbles y un ritmo trepidante pero perfectamente ajustado logra escribir una novela policiaca delirante que se mueve entre lo real y lo surrealista mientras no deja de homenajear a Lewis Carroll en el proceso. Y eso que el matemático literato no es aquí la clave que soluciona el misterio, aunque sí lo es su filosofía. Con esto me refiero a que esta novela no se plantea como un puzle que resolver y que las piezas sean los elementos de la obra de Carroll. No es un thriller autorreferencial, ni mucho menos. Lo que ocurre es que, cuando llega un momento en que la cordura un hombre que ya peina camas lleva toda la noche corriendo de un lado a otro, trasegando whisky tras whisky para enfrentar lo imposible, se resiente y empieza a pensar como lo haría un loco; uno muy lúcido, aficionado a los juegos de palabras, al pensamiento lateral y a tomar el té con animales silvestres.
Lo dicho, La noche a través del espejo es una novela divertidísima con la que vais a pasar unos ratos muy agradables. A mí me ha hecho desear conocer más de la ficción breve, humorística y de ciencia ficción de este autor. Así que me voy con sus marcianos.
August 25, 2016
El norteamericano Fredric Brown (1906-1972) fue un brillante escritor de novelas y relatos de ciencia ficción y policíacas. De estas últimas, la más destacada, y ya un clásico, es ‘Noche a través del espejo’ (Night of the Jabberwock, 1950), claro homenaje a Lewis Carroll, ya que hace referencia al poema incluido en ‘A través del espejo’, la secuela de ‘Alicia en el País de las Maravillas’.
‘Noche a través del espejo’ es una novela de género negro, en la que priman los misterios, el humor y las claves metaliterarias. Doc Stoeger, protagonista y narrador de la historia, es el dueño y editor del periódico local de un pequeño pueblo, Carmel City. Doc es un buen tipo, con principios, bebedor, no muy valiente y fanático de Lewis Carroll, que se verá envuelto en la mayor de las pesadillas en el transcurso de una noche. El desencadenante será la visita de un extraño personaje, con una invitación todavía más insólita. Es mejor no contar nada más y que el futuro lector descubra las claves por sí mismo.
Fredric Brown domina el tempo narrativo perfectamente, manteniendo la tensión, los misterios y los giros inesperados en todo momento. La acción es trepidante y no puedes dejar de leer. La historia funciona como un mecanismo de relojería, en la que todo queda explicado a satisfacción del lector. En cuanto a las referencias literarias relacionadas con Lewis Carroll, Brown las dosifica con maestría y no es necesario ser un erudito en la materia para disfrutarlas.
Así, entre trago de whisky y trago de whisky, se va sucediendo una trama detectivesca y de misterio vertiginosa y deslumbrante.
‘Noche a través del espejo’ es una novela de género negro, en la que priman los misterios, el humor y las claves metaliterarias. Doc Stoeger, protagonista y narrador de la historia, es el dueño y editor del periódico local de un pequeño pueblo, Carmel City. Doc es un buen tipo, con principios, bebedor, no muy valiente y fanático de Lewis Carroll, que se verá envuelto en la mayor de las pesadillas en el transcurso de una noche. El desencadenante será la visita de un extraño personaje, con una invitación todavía más insólita. Es mejor no contar nada más y que el futuro lector descubra las claves por sí mismo.
Fredric Brown domina el tempo narrativo perfectamente, manteniendo la tensión, los misterios y los giros inesperados en todo momento. La acción es trepidante y no puedes dejar de leer. La historia funciona como un mecanismo de relojería, en la que todo queda explicado a satisfacción del lector. En cuanto a las referencias literarias relacionadas con Lewis Carroll, Brown las dosifica con maestría y no es necesario ser un erudito en la materia para disfrutarlas.
Así, entre trago de whisky y trago de whisky, se va sucediendo una trama detectivesca y de misterio vertiginosa y deslumbrante.
September 26, 2021
Night of the Jabberwock is a mystery novel that was first published in 1950. It's a fast-paced and very complex story, with a lot of humor and a lot of references to Lewis Carroll's works. The hero is the editor of a small town paper who leads a very quiet and sedentary existence and wishes for some excitement. He gets far more than he could have ever imagined on a single night, the night of the Jabberwock. Great for mystery readers and Alice fans! Get ready for a Brown study!
February 7, 2017
Review: NIGHT OF THE JABBERWOCK by Fredric Brown
An excitingly twisted, convoluted, puzzle, a mystery wrapped in an enigma, NIGHT OF THE JABBERWOCK
is a true reading delight. This is the first of Fredric Brown's writing I'd read, and it's set me on a path to seeking out more. If you love Lewis Carroll, chess, or almost-unsolvable mysteries, get rolling. If you enjoy a feckless protagonist who is almost his own worst enemy, let me introduce you to the endearing Doc Stoeger, small town newspaper owner, alcoholic, and a stalwart friend. Doc just needs that "one big story" to put his weekly newspaper "to bed," but no matter how diligent he is, the stories just keep eluding him, or mutating--until the grizzled journalist finds himself starring in his own real-life story.
An excitingly twisted, convoluted, puzzle, a mystery wrapped in an enigma, NIGHT OF THE JABBERWOCK
is a true reading delight. This is the first of Fredric Brown's writing I'd read, and it's set me on a path to seeking out more. If you love Lewis Carroll, chess, or almost-unsolvable mysteries, get rolling. If you enjoy a feckless protagonist who is almost his own worst enemy, let me introduce you to the endearing Doc Stoeger, small town newspaper owner, alcoholic, and a stalwart friend. Doc just needs that "one big story" to put his weekly newspaper "to bed," but no matter how diligent he is, the stories just keep eluding him, or mutating--until the grizzled journalist finds himself starring in his own real-life story.
April 21, 2020
Probably best known for his story, The Fabulous Clipjoint which garnered an Edgar Award for outstanding first mystery novel, Fredric Brown was a prolific author of hundreds of pulp short stories and several novels. He considered his best work to be in the science fiction arena, but a good two-thirds of his work were mysteries/thrillers. His story quality is high and attention to plotting is very unique.
The Night of the Jabberwock is exactly what the title indicates--the story of one Thursday night in the small town of Carmel City. Doc Stoeger, the editor of the city's newspaper, the Clarion, has just put the Friday edition to bed and is on his way to his favorite bar. He is wishing that something, anything, more interesting than the lead story's church rummage sale would happen to make his newspaper more exciting to read. Little does he know that the night ahead holds the answer to his wish. And you know what they say: Be careful what you wish for....you just might get it. Before the night is over a couple of big-time mobsters will roll into town, the bank will be robbed, and a lunatic will escape from the local asylum. By the time morning has come, four people will be dead. Stoeger is also a Lewis Carroll fan and while he is trying to cope with the night's madness he finds himself dealing with an odd little man who claims he can take Stoeger through the looking glass. But "beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!" And the most disturbing thing of all--Stoeger will find that none of the events of the night are printable.
I remember this mystery as an incredibly bizarre--but wonderfully so--story of murder. There is an odd feeling of being in the middle of a Lewis Carroll dream world, but Brown brings it all together with an ingenious wrap-up and fine writing. Highly recommended.
The Night of the Jabberwock is exactly what the title indicates--the story of one Thursday night in the small town of Carmel City. Doc Stoeger, the editor of the city's newspaper, the Clarion, has just put the Friday edition to bed and is on his way to his favorite bar. He is wishing that something, anything, more interesting than the lead story's church rummage sale would happen to make his newspaper more exciting to read. Little does he know that the night ahead holds the answer to his wish. And you know what they say: Be careful what you wish for....you just might get it. Before the night is over a couple of big-time mobsters will roll into town, the bank will be robbed, and a lunatic will escape from the local asylum. By the time morning has come, four people will be dead. Stoeger is also a Lewis Carroll fan and while he is trying to cope with the night's madness he finds himself dealing with an odd little man who claims he can take Stoeger through the looking glass. But "beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!" And the most disturbing thing of all--Stoeger will find that none of the events of the night are printable.
I remember this mystery as an incredibly bizarre--but wonderfully so--story of murder. There is an odd feeling of being in the middle of a Lewis Carroll dream world, but Brown brings it all together with an ingenious wrap-up and fine writing. Highly recommended.
August 8, 2013
Of late I have been reading so many new, very highly-touted novels, and coming away wondering what the hell all the shouting was about. So I decided to take something down from my shelves that I loved in the past and reread it. I chose Night of the Jabberwock by Fredric Brown, one of my all-time favorite authors, because I remember being blown away by it twenty-five or thirty years ago. My copy was so old the cover broke off, but I read it anyway. I have to say that the distance of twenty-five or thirty years has changed my perspective (obviously, the book itself didn't change), and what I remembered loving about it now reads a little more complex. But that doesn't change the fact that it is a fascinating, bizarre, very-well-written pulp feast by a grand master of the genre. What I finding lacking in a lot of contemporary novels--great characters, unique voice and POV, and the ability to startle and amuse with every page--is all here, even if can't exactly be called true-to-life. In fact, it is outre in the extreme, but you forgive it, because it's a great story. A wacky, story, but a great story. Night of the Jabberwock is from an earlier era of mystery writing, when postwar realism was fine for films, but was almost rebelled against in fiction, and when authors like Brown really cared about little more than delivering a dynamite story. And he does.
December 10, 2018
Novela negra narrada en primera persona por un periodista de una pequeña ciudad, propietario de un semanario. La acción transcurre toda durante una sola noche, la previa a la edición del periódico.
Con todas las noticias cerradas, empiezan a suceder cosas, de forma continuada, cada una de las cuáles implica alcanzar su sueño: publicar una exclusiva.
Las situaciones son casi surrealistas, narradas con sentido del humor, con personajes estrambóticos y continuas referencias y guiños al libro "Alicia a través del espejo" de Lewis Carroll. Cabe destacar la ironía con la que critica la política y el propio oficio de periodista.
Con todas las noticias cerradas, empiezan a suceder cosas, de forma continuada, cada una de las cuáles implica alcanzar su sueño: publicar una exclusiva.
Las situaciones son casi surrealistas, narradas con sentido del humor, con personajes estrambóticos y continuas referencias y guiños al libro "Alicia a través del espejo" de Lewis Carroll. Cabe destacar la ironía con la que critica la política y el propio oficio de periodista.
January 6, 2017
Complex, Literate, and Engaging
While Fredric Brown is mostly celebrated as an important, if now largely forgotten, contributor to the golden age of science fiction, he also made his mark in the crime and detection field. This book, which came out in 1950, is widely considered to be one of his finest efforts.
We follow Doc Stoeger through just one eventful night. Doc puts his weekly little local paper to bed every Thursday night, for printing on Friday morning. Early on he wishes that something would happen on a Thursday night that would let him print big, breaking news. Well, a whole lifetime's worth of newsworthy things happen on this particular Thursday night, including murders, robberies, mobsters, scandals, and the like. Of more importance, Doc gets involved in a weird setup that might have supernatural overtones, and he finds himself drifting into a frame for a heinous crime.
The book starts slowly, with all of the relevant characters being set in place, then each narrative thread laid down. As the threads twist and tighten, and as the stakes get higher and the action heats up, Doc keeps drinking and thinking out loud, trying to find the angle that puts everything into place. Often the book feels like Cornell Woolrich, and even more often it feels like a Harry Keeler webwork mystery. In the 20's, Keeler described a webwork plot. To quote Wikipedia paraphrasing Keeler, a webwork is "...a plot that includes many strands or threads (each thread representing a character or significant object), which intersect in complex causal interactions. A webwork novel typically ends with a surprise revelation that clarifies these interactions retrospectively." That's pretty much what you get here.
But, lots of webwork plots are just complex for the sake of being complex, and border on the random or silly. Here, (and this is his genius), Brown keeps everything under tight control, and lets us follow Doc's logical and compelling reasoning. Even better, Doc is a literate man and a lover of all things Lewis Carroll. So, the big setup and much of the action reflects or specifically relates to the events and scenes in "Alice in Wonderland", which is what takes the book way beyond just some webwork plotted effort.
So, bottom line, if you like mysteries, Brown is a writer to know. If you like the idea of "literate hard-boiled", this is a book to try. Heck, if you just think of yourself as a bit old-school in your mystery tastes, or if you like an articulate, engaging and distinctive narrative voice, this could be worth a try. A nice find for me. (Please note that I received a free advance ecopy of this book without a review requirement, or any influence regarding review content should I choose to post a review. Apart from that I have no connection at all to either the author or the publisher of this book.)
While Fredric Brown is mostly celebrated as an important, if now largely forgotten, contributor to the golden age of science fiction, he also made his mark in the crime and detection field. This book, which came out in 1950, is widely considered to be one of his finest efforts.
We follow Doc Stoeger through just one eventful night. Doc puts his weekly little local paper to bed every Thursday night, for printing on Friday morning. Early on he wishes that something would happen on a Thursday night that would let him print big, breaking news. Well, a whole lifetime's worth of newsworthy things happen on this particular Thursday night, including murders, robberies, mobsters, scandals, and the like. Of more importance, Doc gets involved in a weird setup that might have supernatural overtones, and he finds himself drifting into a frame for a heinous crime.
The book starts slowly, with all of the relevant characters being set in place, then each narrative thread laid down. As the threads twist and tighten, and as the stakes get higher and the action heats up, Doc keeps drinking and thinking out loud, trying to find the angle that puts everything into place. Often the book feels like Cornell Woolrich, and even more often it feels like a Harry Keeler webwork mystery. In the 20's, Keeler described a webwork plot. To quote Wikipedia paraphrasing Keeler, a webwork is "...a plot that includes many strands or threads (each thread representing a character or significant object), which intersect in complex causal interactions. A webwork novel typically ends with a surprise revelation that clarifies these interactions retrospectively." That's pretty much what you get here.
But, lots of webwork plots are just complex for the sake of being complex, and border on the random or silly. Here, (and this is his genius), Brown keeps everything under tight control, and lets us follow Doc's logical and compelling reasoning. Even better, Doc is a literate man and a lover of all things Lewis Carroll. So, the big setup and much of the action reflects or specifically relates to the events and scenes in "Alice in Wonderland", which is what takes the book way beyond just some webwork plotted effort.
So, bottom line, if you like mysteries, Brown is a writer to know. If you like the idea of "literate hard-boiled", this is a book to try. Heck, if you just think of yourself as a bit old-school in your mystery tastes, or if you like an articulate, engaging and distinctive narrative voice, this could be worth a try. A nice find for me. (Please note that I received a free advance ecopy of this book without a review requirement, or any influence regarding review content should I choose to post a review. Apart from that I have no connection at all to either the author or the publisher of this book.)
November 4, 2024
La novela tiene dos puntos de partida (dos premisas) aunque el segundo no se activa realmente hasta la mitad.
El primero es como de comedia de Hollywood de los años 40 (el narrador protagonista menciona Primera plana en algún momento) pero, para mi gusto, le falta chispa.
El segundo, que parece sacado de un episodio de Alfred Hitchcock presenta, es el que de verdad justifica la novela. Aquí veníamos a por esto, lo anterior no pasaba de ser una mera distracción para introducir información necesaria junto a otra de relleno.
Aunque al final se recapitulan las distintas peripecias para darles unidad en el marco del primer punto de partida, me quedo con la impresión de que Brown podría haber reducido la novela a la mitad y el resultado no habría sido peor.
El primero es como de comedia de Hollywood de los años 40 (el narrador protagonista menciona Primera plana en algún momento) pero, para mi gusto, le falta chispa.
El segundo, que parece sacado de un episodio de Alfred Hitchcock presenta, es el que de verdad justifica la novela. Aquí veníamos a por esto, lo anterior no pasaba de ser una mera distracción para introducir información necesaria junto a otra de relleno.
Aunque al final se recapitulan las distintas peripecias para darles unidad en el marco del primer punto de partida, me quedo con la impresión de que Brown podría haber reducido la novela a la mitad y el resultado no habría sido peor.
May 26, 2018
Enjoyable and eccentric mystery tale with a Lewis Carroll spin. As a fan of the Alice takes, I was totally sucked in and was kept curious throughout. Delightful way to spend some time, particularly if you like your mysteries with a side of madness.
March 21, 2014
Publicado en
“La noche a través del espejo” de Fredric Brown. La ficción como (el mejor) reflejo de la realidad.
Es difícil escribir algo sobre “La noche a través del espejo” de Fredric Brown en la preciosa edición de “Reino de cordelia” sin caer en el entusiasmo fácil y en los lugares comunes: Obra maestra, imprescindible, mecanismo de relojería, adictivo, se lee en un santiamén, etc…
Pero quizá es necesario recurrir a ellos de vez en cuando para que, en este caso, todo el mundo se entere de que es un Must-Read, sin comentarios crípticos que la emborronen.
Hacía ya varios años (desde 1987) de la edición de la maravillosa colección de Etiqueta Negra de Júcar y era prácticamente inencontrable. Reino de Cordelia nos trae una nueva traducción de la obra (fantástica por cierto) de Susana Carral y una edición exquisita para que podamos disfrutar como se merece este clásico.
En el prólogo de Juan Salvador (sí, de la librería Estudio en Escarlata) tenemos una condensación de las diversas virtudes por las que se ha hecho célebre:
“La noche a través del espejo” es una novela redonda, de embriagadora precisión. Por eso es complicado decir qué me gusta más de ella. La trama llena de giros y sorpresas, los tragos de whisky, la crítica a la política y al periodismo, los personajes cercanos y creíbles, el bar de Smiley, la atmósfera nocturna y onírica, el despliegue de humor y paradojas, o el juego de espejos y distorsiones con Alicia en el país de las maravillas y A través del Espejo y lo que Alicia encontró allí, de Lewis Carroll.”
Leer estas razones una vez acabado realza aún más las sensaciones que tuve, ese indefinible halo de felicidad que surge cuando te encuentras una lectura tan plena.
Doc Stoeger, el periodista dueño del Clarion, es el narrador; el espacio temporal es la noche y parte de la madrugada de un día; el espacio físico es la ciudad en la que vive, el bar de Smiley, un pequeño grupo de localizaciones que se envuelven en un sueño; nuestro protagonista, como Fredric, ama la literatura:
“Pero me conformo, todas las noches, con mis libros. Recubren por completo dos paredes enteras de mi salón y desbordan las librerías del dormitorio; incluso tengo una estantería en el baño. ¿Cómo que incluso? Creo que un baño sin una estantería está tan incompleto como lo estaría sin retrete.
Además, son buenos libros. No, no me sentiría solo, ni aunque Al Grainger faltara a nuestra partida de ajedrez. ¿Cómo iba a sentirme solo si llevaba una botella en el bolsillo y me esperaba tan buena compañía? Leer un libro es casi como escuchar al hombre que lo escribió dirigiéndose a ti. En cierto modo es mejor, porque no te obliga a ser amable con él. Puedes cerrarlo y hacerlo callar en el momento en que te apetezca y dedicar tu tiempo a otro. Puedes descalzarte y apoyar los pies en la mesa. Puedes beber y leer hasta olvidarte de todo, excepto de aquello que lees y de que llevas encima la cruz de un periódico que te pesa día y noche, hasta que llegas al refugio de tu hogar, donde olvidas.”
Hacía tiempo que no me encontraba una definición tan redonda como esta de leer un libro: “escuchar al hombre que lo escribió dirigiéndose a ti” pero sin la obligación de sentirte amable con él, la lectura como afición libre, sin obligaciones, y que te ayuda a “olvidar” cuando te sumerges en él.
Su único sueño como periodista es conseguir tener una exclusiva en portada, todas las posibilidades de hacer algo diferente se le truncan, una tras otra; parece que todo está en contra y su único refugio es tomar una copa en el bar de Smiley (el sonriente!!) caracterizado por un humor difícil de entender a pesar de reírse cada dos por tres.
A esa noche sin pena ni gloria se le añade el contrapunto de conocer, en su propia casa, al enigmático y extraño Yehudi Smith, que viene a turbar su ánimo dándole la vuelta a todo en lo que creía, resaltando la fantasía, la ficción, como la mejor manera de reflejar la realidad:
“-Doctor ¿alguna vez se le ha ocurrido pensar que las fantasías de Lewis Carroll pueden no ser fantasías?
-¿Se refiere a que la fantasía suele estar más cerca de la verdad esencial que la ficción que quiere parecer real? –pregunté.
-No. Me refiero a que son literal y realmente ciertas. A que no son ficción, que son reportajes.”
No solo le da vuelta a sus creencias sino a su propia existencia:
“-Que hay otro plano de existencia, además de aquel en el que vivimos. Que podemos tener acceso a él y que, en ocasiones, lo tenemos.
-Pero ¿qué clase de plano? ¿Un plano de fantasía “a través del espejo”? ¿Un plano onírico?
-Exacto, doctor. Un plano onírico. No es una explicación totalmente precisa pero, de momento, no puedo ampliársela más.”
Y le invita a una reunión de “fanáticos” de Lewis Carroll y, en particular de sus dos obras de Alicia. En su desesperación acepta y a partir de ahí nada será igual, los hechos extraños y aparentemente imposibles van desencadenándose, produciendo una atmósfera donde lo aparentemente real se yuxtapone con la materia de los sueños, llevándole a una situación en la que se empieza a dudar de su propia cordura:
“¿Por qué no? Formaba parte del patrón. Tenía que haberlo imaginado. No por el tipo de letra, casi todos los talleres tienen la garamond ocho, sino porque la botella del “bébeme” contenía veneno y Yehudi no iba a estar allí cuando Hank fuese a buscarlo. Seguía un patrón y yo ya sabía cuál era: el patrón de la locura.”
No voy a contar más, porque precisamente la trama es uno de los grandes puntos fuertes, engranaje a engranaje se irá ensamblando y lo único que nos quedará es asentir, levantar la cabeza y sonreír satisfechos.
Como bien dice Juan Salvador, bebamos una copa a la salud de Fredric Brown y degustemos el libro como se merece, sorbo a sorbo, sueño a sueño.
Los textos vienen de la traducción del inglés de Susana Carral de “La noche a través del espejo” de Fredric Brown en Reino de Cordelia
“La noche a través del espejo” de Fredric Brown. La ficción como (el mejor) reflejo de la realidad.
Es difícil escribir algo sobre “La noche a través del espejo” de Fredric Brown en la preciosa edición de “Reino de cordelia” sin caer en el entusiasmo fácil y en los lugares comunes: Obra maestra, imprescindible, mecanismo de relojería, adictivo, se lee en un santiamén, etc…
Pero quizá es necesario recurrir a ellos de vez en cuando para que, en este caso, todo el mundo se entere de que es un Must-Read, sin comentarios crípticos que la emborronen.
Hacía ya varios años (desde 1987) de la edición de la maravillosa colección de Etiqueta Negra de Júcar y era prácticamente inencontrable. Reino de Cordelia nos trae una nueva traducción de la obra (fantástica por cierto) de Susana Carral y una edición exquisita para que podamos disfrutar como se merece este clásico.
En el prólogo de Juan Salvador (sí, de la librería Estudio en Escarlata) tenemos una condensación de las diversas virtudes por las que se ha hecho célebre:
“La noche a través del espejo” es una novela redonda, de embriagadora precisión. Por eso es complicado decir qué me gusta más de ella. La trama llena de giros y sorpresas, los tragos de whisky, la crítica a la política y al periodismo, los personajes cercanos y creíbles, el bar de Smiley, la atmósfera nocturna y onírica, el despliegue de humor y paradojas, o el juego de espejos y distorsiones con Alicia en el país de las maravillas y A través del Espejo y lo que Alicia encontró allí, de Lewis Carroll.”
Leer estas razones una vez acabado realza aún más las sensaciones que tuve, ese indefinible halo de felicidad que surge cuando te encuentras una lectura tan plena.
Doc Stoeger, el periodista dueño del Clarion, es el narrador; el espacio temporal es la noche y parte de la madrugada de un día; el espacio físico es la ciudad en la que vive, el bar de Smiley, un pequeño grupo de localizaciones que se envuelven en un sueño; nuestro protagonista, como Fredric, ama la literatura:
“Pero me conformo, todas las noches, con mis libros. Recubren por completo dos paredes enteras de mi salón y desbordan las librerías del dormitorio; incluso tengo una estantería en el baño. ¿Cómo que incluso? Creo que un baño sin una estantería está tan incompleto como lo estaría sin retrete.
Además, son buenos libros. No, no me sentiría solo, ni aunque Al Grainger faltara a nuestra partida de ajedrez. ¿Cómo iba a sentirme solo si llevaba una botella en el bolsillo y me esperaba tan buena compañía? Leer un libro es casi como escuchar al hombre que lo escribió dirigiéndose a ti. En cierto modo es mejor, porque no te obliga a ser amable con él. Puedes cerrarlo y hacerlo callar en el momento en que te apetezca y dedicar tu tiempo a otro. Puedes descalzarte y apoyar los pies en la mesa. Puedes beber y leer hasta olvidarte de todo, excepto de aquello que lees y de que llevas encima la cruz de un periódico que te pesa día y noche, hasta que llegas al refugio de tu hogar, donde olvidas.”
Hacía tiempo que no me encontraba una definición tan redonda como esta de leer un libro: “escuchar al hombre que lo escribió dirigiéndose a ti” pero sin la obligación de sentirte amable con él, la lectura como afición libre, sin obligaciones, y que te ayuda a “olvidar” cuando te sumerges en él.
Su único sueño como periodista es conseguir tener una exclusiva en portada, todas las posibilidades de hacer algo diferente se le truncan, una tras otra; parece que todo está en contra y su único refugio es tomar una copa en el bar de Smiley (el sonriente!!) caracterizado por un humor difícil de entender a pesar de reírse cada dos por tres.
A esa noche sin pena ni gloria se le añade el contrapunto de conocer, en su propia casa, al enigmático y extraño Yehudi Smith, que viene a turbar su ánimo dándole la vuelta a todo en lo que creía, resaltando la fantasía, la ficción, como la mejor manera de reflejar la realidad:
“-Doctor ¿alguna vez se le ha ocurrido pensar que las fantasías de Lewis Carroll pueden no ser fantasías?
-¿Se refiere a que la fantasía suele estar más cerca de la verdad esencial que la ficción que quiere parecer real? –pregunté.
-No. Me refiero a que son literal y realmente ciertas. A que no son ficción, que son reportajes.”
No solo le da vuelta a sus creencias sino a su propia existencia:
“-Que hay otro plano de existencia, además de aquel en el que vivimos. Que podemos tener acceso a él y que, en ocasiones, lo tenemos.
-Pero ¿qué clase de plano? ¿Un plano de fantasía “a través del espejo”? ¿Un plano onírico?
-Exacto, doctor. Un plano onírico. No es una explicación totalmente precisa pero, de momento, no puedo ampliársela más.”
Y le invita a una reunión de “fanáticos” de Lewis Carroll y, en particular de sus dos obras de Alicia. En su desesperación acepta y a partir de ahí nada será igual, los hechos extraños y aparentemente imposibles van desencadenándose, produciendo una atmósfera donde lo aparentemente real se yuxtapone con la materia de los sueños, llevándole a una situación en la que se empieza a dudar de su propia cordura:
“¿Por qué no? Formaba parte del patrón. Tenía que haberlo imaginado. No por el tipo de letra, casi todos los talleres tienen la garamond ocho, sino porque la botella del “bébeme” contenía veneno y Yehudi no iba a estar allí cuando Hank fuese a buscarlo. Seguía un patrón y yo ya sabía cuál era: el patrón de la locura.”
No voy a contar más, porque precisamente la trama es uno de los grandes puntos fuertes, engranaje a engranaje se irá ensamblando y lo único que nos quedará es asentir, levantar la cabeza y sonreír satisfechos.
Como bien dice Juan Salvador, bebamos una copa a la salud de Fredric Brown y degustemos el libro como se merece, sorbo a sorbo, sueño a sueño.
Los textos vienen de la traducción del inglés de Susana Carral de “La noche a través del espejo” de Fredric Brown en Reino de Cordelia
September 19, 2023
Entretenimiento puro y una pega, un final precipitado
December 22, 2016
La noche a través del espejo, la noche del Galimatazo, o de cómo un hombre es arrastrado por la locura, propia o ajena, hacia un galimatías más allá del tablero de ajedrez.
Al principio tenía miedo de qué me depararía esta novela. Se me pasó por la cabeza que podría ser una mala prolongación de Alicia, una cutrez de País de las Maravillas. Obviamente, esto lo pensé después de comprarlo.
Pero no ha pasado nada de eso, no. Sino que la primera página me agarró bien del cuello, y así pasé a la segunda, y a la tercera, y a la cuarta, hasta que la última se hartó de mí y me dijo: "ya te puedes ir". Pero yo no quería irme, igual que el hombrecillo que no estaba allí. Yo quería quedarme bajo la escalera, observando. Quería caer en el agujero una y otra vez. Quería probar la botella que dice "bébeme", a pesar de las consecuencias. Y esconderme y huir de nuevo, horadando en la mente de Doc.
No es una obra policíaca de un caso de fanatismo, no asesinan en nombre de Carroll, ni las pistas están basadas en sus novelas. Quita, quita. Se trata de la historia de un hombre que, por unas cosas u otras, no puede tomarse un trago a gusto. Un hombre que lo único que busca en su vida es una noticia con la que sorprender. Un hombre que duda de su cordura a pesar de no dudar de ella. Un hombre que habla solo, pero que en realidad no lo hace. El hombrecillo que no estaba allí, pero que siempre estuvo, actuando a través del pentelleo, cuando los escurrosos tovos aspeaban la matambecida.
Al principio tenía miedo de qué me depararía esta novela. Se me pasó por la cabeza que podría ser una mala prolongación de Alicia, una cutrez de País de las Maravillas. Obviamente, esto lo pensé después de comprarlo.
Pero no ha pasado nada de eso, no. Sino que la primera página me agarró bien del cuello, y así pasé a la segunda, y a la tercera, y a la cuarta, hasta que la última se hartó de mí y me dijo: "ya te puedes ir". Pero yo no quería irme, igual que el hombrecillo que no estaba allí. Yo quería quedarme bajo la escalera, observando. Quería caer en el agujero una y otra vez. Quería probar la botella que dice "bébeme", a pesar de las consecuencias. Y esconderme y huir de nuevo, horadando en la mente de Doc.
No es una obra policíaca de un caso de fanatismo, no asesinan en nombre de Carroll, ni las pistas están basadas en sus novelas. Quita, quita. Se trata de la historia de un hombre que, por unas cosas u otras, no puede tomarse un trago a gusto. Un hombre que lo único que busca en su vida es una noticia con la que sorprender. Un hombre que duda de su cordura a pesar de no dudar de ella. Un hombre que habla solo, pero que en realidad no lo hace. El hombrecillo que no estaba allí, pero que siempre estuvo, actuando a través del pentelleo, cuando los escurrosos tovos aspeaban la matambecida.
March 2, 2021
Qué libro tan bien escrito y tan divertido ha escrito Brown. Una mezcla de policial disparatado, bajo el signo de Alicia, donde el protagonista (editor de un diario) debe dejar pasar una serie de noticias que podrían darle sentido a su carrera periodística, mientras se ve envuelto en una serie de rarísimos asesinatos. Luego de leerlo, subo en mi lista los títulos de ciencia ficción de Brown que no he leído aún.
July 30, 2020
Magnífico Fredric Brown. Esta novela policíaca fantástica destila a la par ingenio, humor y todo un toque de Alicia a través del espejo. La jornada que vive el protagonista es memorable y trepidante dejando un gusto de irrealidad que poco a poco avanza hacia la naturaleza policíaca de la novela.
October 21, 2017
Interessante la commistione fra genere fantastico e giallo, specie se poi alla fine il dipanamento e la soluzione dell'enigma sono perfettamente logici e umani. Un ottimo ritmo narrativo per un autore che non conoscevo.
Ottimo Bassotto.
Ottimo Bassotto.
April 26, 2021
Il giallo è un genere notoriamente versatile, che si adatta alle più diverse stilistiche e finalità, tanto che molti famosi autori vi immisero elementi appartenenti a forme letterarie differenti: il mystery può fondersi benissimo con una storia d'amore, spesso causa scatenante dei più sordidi crimini, come dimostra Agatha Christie in molte sue opere; può abbinarsi benissimo con una narrazione storica, unendo all'enigma il fascino del passato, come ha mostrato ad esempio Paul Harding, specializzatosi in storie ambientate nel Medioevo, nell'antico Egitto o nella Roma imperiale; altri ancora hanno provato a mescolare all'alone misterioso che pervade il giallo classico elementi bizzarri, gotici o assurdi, fondendo il realismo tipico del genere con l' inventiva propria della fantascienza.
In quest'ultima categoria rientra un grande romanziere, una delle menti più creative nel panorama letterario del Novecento: Fredric Brown.
Fredric William Brown nasce a Cincinnati nel 1906. Figlio unico di un giornalista, rimane orfano in giovane età. Si iscrive all'età di venti anni all'Università della città e all'Hanover College nell'Indiana, senza arrivare a conseguire la laurea. Nel 1929 si sposa con Helen Brown, da cui avrà due figli. I tempi erano duri e Brown, per sbarcare il lunario, dovette svolgere diversi incarichi, dal lavapiatti, al lavoro in un luna park, al fattorino. Si trasferì poi a Milwaukee dove lavorò come correttore di bozze per il giornale locale. Alla metà degli anni '30 risale la pubblicazione del suo primo racconto poliziesco. Da quell'istante si dedicò costantemente alla scrittura, producendo un gran numero di opere, tendenzialmente racconti lunghi o molto brevi, le cosiddette "short short stories" , in cui univa, in poche righe, inventiva e umorismo. Si fece notare anche come autore di fantascienza, grazie alla stesura di opere che furono poi giudicate tra le migliori mai scritte in tale campo. Il suo esordio come romanziere si ebbe solo nel 1947, con "The Fabulous Clipjoint", primo di sette gialli con protagonisti i due detective dilettanti Ed e Am Hunter. Fu un autore molto prolifico, originale e creativo, tanto che ideava trame complesse a partire da semplici eventi cui assisteva. Nel 1948 divorzia e si risposa con Elizabeth Charlier, trasferendosi per motivi di salute prima a Taos, in New Mexico, poi a Los Angeles. Le sue opere ebbero un successo tale che alcune di esse furono adattate per il grande schermo e anche per la televisione, per la serie diretta da Alfred Hitchcock. Morì a Tucson nel 1972.
Fredric Brown è un autore interessante, di cui avevo già letto due racconti: "Il macellaio sghignazzante", gotico e inquietante, e "Mistero all'obitorio", un originale corto con una camera chiusa davvero ingegnosa. Non avevo ancora provato nessun suo romanzo e ho deciso allora di cominciare con "Il visitatore che non c'era" ("Night of the Jabberwock", 1951), la cui trama straniante e onirica mi tentava parecchio.
"Il visitatore che non c'era" è un romanzo coinvolgente e accattivante, che mescola in modo piacevole giallo classico, elementi da thriller psicologico e il filone bizzarro e onirico.
Riassumere la trama dell'opera è alquanto difficile, essendo costellata di continue peripezie e colpi di scena fondamentali per la comprensione dello schema generale, e si rischierebbe di snaturarne la reale essenza. Per cui mi limiterò ad un sunto parziale per non rovinare la peculiare narrazione.
Il protagonista, nonché narratore del romanzo è Doc Stoeger, direttore di mezz'età dell'unico giornale locale, il Carmel City Clarion. La sua è una vita piatta e monotona, sia nel privato che nell'ambito lavorativo: lo dimostra la sera di quel giovedì in cui inizia la storia, quando Doc sta concludendo l'impaginazione del suo settimanale, che uscirà la mattina seguente. Nessuna notizia degna di nota, ma solo avvisi di feste, piccoli fatterelli che non interesserebbero nessuno se ci fosse mai stato qualche evento rilevante nella cittadina. In attesa di una notizia bomba, Doc era giunto alle soglie della vecchiaia e ancora non aveva mai pubblicato nulla degno della benché minima attenzione. Del resto non era colpa sua se a Carmel City vi era una perpetua calma piatta. Dunque non si stupisce del fatto che ancora una volta lui e il socio Pete, addetto alla stampa, abbiano concluso il loro lavoro prima del solito. Chiusa la bottega, Doc se ne va nel pub antistante, da Smiley, per farsi qualche bicchierino. Se il destino del protagonista era già di per sé sfortunato, quel giorno il fato sembra essersela presa con lui con maggior veemenza del solito: la pesca di beneficienza era stata annullata e dunque Doc doveva togliere anche quella colonna che gli era servita per coprire un buco (dei tanti con cui doveva quotidianamente riempire per mancanza di notizie) in prima pagina. Poco male, ci è abituato. Se ne torna poi a casa, si allunga scompostamente sulla poltrona e prende alcuni libri per godersi quelle ore di ozio. Infatti Doc è un grande amante della letteratura e un vero esperto di Lewis Carroll, le cui opere conosce a menadito. Pensa di trascorrere una sera come tante altre, ma non sa che di lì a poco avrebbe vissuto gli attimi più eccitanti e assieme più pericolosi della sua vita. E tutto ciò inizia con la visita improvvisa di uno strano tipo, Yehudi Smith, che si presenta come membro delle "Spade di Zarcum", associazione di appassionati di Lewis Carroll. Questi lo informa che, conoscendo la sua passione in materia, vuole che partecipi ad una riunione di questo gruppo tesa a dimostrare come le stramberie presenti in "Alice nel paese delle meraviglie" non siano in realtà così fantasiose. Un discorso del genere avrebbe convinto chiunque che quell'individuo fosse un po' suonato e sarebbe stato subito cacciato via di casa. Ma questo non accade con Doc che, stufo di stare solo, trova piacere nel parlare con un altro estimatore di Carroll. Ma quella semplice chiacchierata si trasformerà nel più grosso errore della sua vita: un errore che costerà ben 3 vite umane e una notte da incubo per il giornalista, il quale più volte metterà in dubbio la sua sanità mentale. Perché se prima pensava che Alice, il Cianciaroccio e la Regina di Cuori appartenessero alla fantasia letteraria, ora è costretto a ricredersi, in quanto vivrà avventure che sembrano essere uscite direttamente dalla folle mente di Lewis Carroll. E capirà come le favole, a volte, possano essere peggio degli incubi...
"Il visitatore che non c'era" è un romanzo scorrevole e piacevolissimo, che dimostra le doti di Brown come scrittore, la sua originalità e il suo eclettismo.
La struttura dell'opera ricalca un po' quella di un thriller, con una nutrita presenza di scene d'azione, sebbene ironiche in quanto fulcro delle varie avventure è un anti-eroe per eccellenza, Doc Stoeger, uomo pavido e goffo, il quale tenta di trarsi d'impaccio in più occasioni ma finisce alla fine solo per peggiorare le sue condizioni. Infatti l'opera si può definire una "tragicommedia gialla della beffa", giocata tutta sull'accumularsi di sventure del protagonista, le quali capovolgono la sua situazione di iniziale quiete. Queste vicende sono rese più gradevoli dallo stile fresco, energico e umoristico dell'autore, il quale riesce a tenere costantemente avvinto il lettore, senza punti di stanca, attraverso l'impiego di continui colpi di scena, posti principalmente in chiusura di capitolo, in modo da indurre a proseguire nella narrazione. Il ritmo perciò è incalzante, sempre frenetico, tanto da allargare relativisticamente il tempo del racconto, che in realtà è concentrato in una singola notte.
Oltre all'elemento avventuroso e alla presenza di scene ad alta tensione, nelle quali incombe un alone di sciagura e di morte, Brown riesce a mescolare nella trama anche temi assurdi senza rendere ridicolo o strampalato il corso degli eventi: ossessiva è la ricorrenza dei versi di Carroll, che fungono sia da motivo focale da cui scaturisce la vicenda gialla, sia come pista per giungere alla verità. La follia dei versi di "Alice nel paese delle meraviglie" si riversa nella realtà di Doc, che deve riuscire a discernere ciò che è reale e ciò è finto nel piano di un omicida diabolico e perverso. E scoprirà che forse era meglio credere all'incredibile che alla verità.
Il punto di forza del romanzo è però lo stile dell'autore unito all'eccellente caratterizzazione di Doc. Brown ha una scrittura coinvolgente, mai contorta o stancante e riesce ad unire riflessioni interessanti a momenti davvero ironici.
Il protagonista è il solito uomo sfortunato che deve patire mille avventure per cacciarsi fuori dai guai, ma l'autore non crea una figura utopistica, di uomo che diviene all'improvviso coraggioso grazie ad una serie di circostanze. Doc rimane un uomo pigro, ironico ma goffo.
Egli rappresenta anche una realtà sociale di quegli anni e forse anche una sorta di alter ego dell'autore: l'uomo di modeste condizioni economiche che vive in uno stato di piatta mediocrità pur nutrendo ambizioni future. È il ritratto dell'americano medio della metà del XX secolo, incarna il disorientamento del periodo e la delusione per la realtà sociale che non offre spunti di crescita e riscatto.
Se l'opera appare estremamente godibile per stile e struttura, l'enigma è abbastanza trasparente. A mano a mano che si prosegue nel racconto delle disavventure del protagonista, comincia ad intravedersi lo schema, sia pur labile, dietro la totalità degli eventi. È dunque facile scorgere l'assassino, anche se non ci sono indizi materiali che lo provino.
Pur non avendo una grande misdirection, il romanzo è ottimo, prova dell'abilità dello scrittore nel tenere desti l'attenzione e l'interesse dei lettori.
Dunque, "Il visitatore che non c'era" è un gran bel romanzo, molto scorrevole e ironico, ma con una trama gialla semplice e prevedibile.
In quest'ultima categoria rientra un grande romanziere, una delle menti più creative nel panorama letterario del Novecento: Fredric Brown.
Fredric William Brown nasce a Cincinnati nel 1906. Figlio unico di un giornalista, rimane orfano in giovane età. Si iscrive all'età di venti anni all'Università della città e all'Hanover College nell'Indiana, senza arrivare a conseguire la laurea. Nel 1929 si sposa con Helen Brown, da cui avrà due figli. I tempi erano duri e Brown, per sbarcare il lunario, dovette svolgere diversi incarichi, dal lavapiatti, al lavoro in un luna park, al fattorino. Si trasferì poi a Milwaukee dove lavorò come correttore di bozze per il giornale locale. Alla metà degli anni '30 risale la pubblicazione del suo primo racconto poliziesco. Da quell'istante si dedicò costantemente alla scrittura, producendo un gran numero di opere, tendenzialmente racconti lunghi o molto brevi, le cosiddette "short short stories" , in cui univa, in poche righe, inventiva e umorismo. Si fece notare anche come autore di fantascienza, grazie alla stesura di opere che furono poi giudicate tra le migliori mai scritte in tale campo. Il suo esordio come romanziere si ebbe solo nel 1947, con "The Fabulous Clipjoint", primo di sette gialli con protagonisti i due detective dilettanti Ed e Am Hunter. Fu un autore molto prolifico, originale e creativo, tanto che ideava trame complesse a partire da semplici eventi cui assisteva. Nel 1948 divorzia e si risposa con Elizabeth Charlier, trasferendosi per motivi di salute prima a Taos, in New Mexico, poi a Los Angeles. Le sue opere ebbero un successo tale che alcune di esse furono adattate per il grande schermo e anche per la televisione, per la serie diretta da Alfred Hitchcock. Morì a Tucson nel 1972.
Fredric Brown è un autore interessante, di cui avevo già letto due racconti: "Il macellaio sghignazzante", gotico e inquietante, e "Mistero all'obitorio", un originale corto con una camera chiusa davvero ingegnosa. Non avevo ancora provato nessun suo romanzo e ho deciso allora di cominciare con "Il visitatore che non c'era" ("Night of the Jabberwock", 1951), la cui trama straniante e onirica mi tentava parecchio.
"Il visitatore che non c'era" è un romanzo coinvolgente e accattivante, che mescola in modo piacevole giallo classico, elementi da thriller psicologico e il filone bizzarro e onirico.
Riassumere la trama dell'opera è alquanto difficile, essendo costellata di continue peripezie e colpi di scena fondamentali per la comprensione dello schema generale, e si rischierebbe di snaturarne la reale essenza. Per cui mi limiterò ad un sunto parziale per non rovinare la peculiare narrazione.
Il protagonista, nonché narratore del romanzo è Doc Stoeger, direttore di mezz'età dell'unico giornale locale, il Carmel City Clarion. La sua è una vita piatta e monotona, sia nel privato che nell'ambito lavorativo: lo dimostra la sera di quel giovedì in cui inizia la storia, quando Doc sta concludendo l'impaginazione del suo settimanale, che uscirà la mattina seguente. Nessuna notizia degna di nota, ma solo avvisi di feste, piccoli fatterelli che non interesserebbero nessuno se ci fosse mai stato qualche evento rilevante nella cittadina. In attesa di una notizia bomba, Doc era giunto alle soglie della vecchiaia e ancora non aveva mai pubblicato nulla degno della benché minima attenzione. Del resto non era colpa sua se a Carmel City vi era una perpetua calma piatta. Dunque non si stupisce del fatto che ancora una volta lui e il socio Pete, addetto alla stampa, abbiano concluso il loro lavoro prima del solito. Chiusa la bottega, Doc se ne va nel pub antistante, da Smiley, per farsi qualche bicchierino. Se il destino del protagonista era già di per sé sfortunato, quel giorno il fato sembra essersela presa con lui con maggior veemenza del solito: la pesca di beneficienza era stata annullata e dunque Doc doveva togliere anche quella colonna che gli era servita per coprire un buco (dei tanti con cui doveva quotidianamente riempire per mancanza di notizie) in prima pagina. Poco male, ci è abituato. Se ne torna poi a casa, si allunga scompostamente sulla poltrona e prende alcuni libri per godersi quelle ore di ozio. Infatti Doc è un grande amante della letteratura e un vero esperto di Lewis Carroll, le cui opere conosce a menadito. Pensa di trascorrere una sera come tante altre, ma non sa che di lì a poco avrebbe vissuto gli attimi più eccitanti e assieme più pericolosi della sua vita. E tutto ciò inizia con la visita improvvisa di uno strano tipo, Yehudi Smith, che si presenta come membro delle "Spade di Zarcum", associazione di appassionati di Lewis Carroll. Questi lo informa che, conoscendo la sua passione in materia, vuole che partecipi ad una riunione di questo gruppo tesa a dimostrare come le stramberie presenti in "Alice nel paese delle meraviglie" non siano in realtà così fantasiose. Un discorso del genere avrebbe convinto chiunque che quell'individuo fosse un po' suonato e sarebbe stato subito cacciato via di casa. Ma questo non accade con Doc che, stufo di stare solo, trova piacere nel parlare con un altro estimatore di Carroll. Ma quella semplice chiacchierata si trasformerà nel più grosso errore della sua vita: un errore che costerà ben 3 vite umane e una notte da incubo per il giornalista, il quale più volte metterà in dubbio la sua sanità mentale. Perché se prima pensava che Alice, il Cianciaroccio e la Regina di Cuori appartenessero alla fantasia letteraria, ora è costretto a ricredersi, in quanto vivrà avventure che sembrano essere uscite direttamente dalla folle mente di Lewis Carroll. E capirà come le favole, a volte, possano essere peggio degli incubi...
"Il visitatore che non c'era" è un romanzo scorrevole e piacevolissimo, che dimostra le doti di Brown come scrittore, la sua originalità e il suo eclettismo.
La struttura dell'opera ricalca un po' quella di un thriller, con una nutrita presenza di scene d'azione, sebbene ironiche in quanto fulcro delle varie avventure è un anti-eroe per eccellenza, Doc Stoeger, uomo pavido e goffo, il quale tenta di trarsi d'impaccio in più occasioni ma finisce alla fine solo per peggiorare le sue condizioni. Infatti l'opera si può definire una "tragicommedia gialla della beffa", giocata tutta sull'accumularsi di sventure del protagonista, le quali capovolgono la sua situazione di iniziale quiete. Queste vicende sono rese più gradevoli dallo stile fresco, energico e umoristico dell'autore, il quale riesce a tenere costantemente avvinto il lettore, senza punti di stanca, attraverso l'impiego di continui colpi di scena, posti principalmente in chiusura di capitolo, in modo da indurre a proseguire nella narrazione. Il ritmo perciò è incalzante, sempre frenetico, tanto da allargare relativisticamente il tempo del racconto, che in realtà è concentrato in una singola notte.
Oltre all'elemento avventuroso e alla presenza di scene ad alta tensione, nelle quali incombe un alone di sciagura e di morte, Brown riesce a mescolare nella trama anche temi assurdi senza rendere ridicolo o strampalato il corso degli eventi: ossessiva è la ricorrenza dei versi di Carroll, che fungono sia da motivo focale da cui scaturisce la vicenda gialla, sia come pista per giungere alla verità. La follia dei versi di "Alice nel paese delle meraviglie" si riversa nella realtà di Doc, che deve riuscire a discernere ciò che è reale e ciò è finto nel piano di un omicida diabolico e perverso. E scoprirà che forse era meglio credere all'incredibile che alla verità.
Il punto di forza del romanzo è però lo stile dell'autore unito all'eccellente caratterizzazione di Doc. Brown ha una scrittura coinvolgente, mai contorta o stancante e riesce ad unire riflessioni interessanti a momenti davvero ironici.
Il protagonista è il solito uomo sfortunato che deve patire mille avventure per cacciarsi fuori dai guai, ma l'autore non crea una figura utopistica, di uomo che diviene all'improvviso coraggioso grazie ad una serie di circostanze. Doc rimane un uomo pigro, ironico ma goffo.
Egli rappresenta anche una realtà sociale di quegli anni e forse anche una sorta di alter ego dell'autore: l'uomo di modeste condizioni economiche che vive in uno stato di piatta mediocrità pur nutrendo ambizioni future. È il ritratto dell'americano medio della metà del XX secolo, incarna il disorientamento del periodo e la delusione per la realtà sociale che non offre spunti di crescita e riscatto.
Se l'opera appare estremamente godibile per stile e struttura, l'enigma è abbastanza trasparente. A mano a mano che si prosegue nel racconto delle disavventure del protagonista, comincia ad intravedersi lo schema, sia pur labile, dietro la totalità degli eventi. È dunque facile scorgere l'assassino, anche se non ci sono indizi materiali che lo provino.
Pur non avendo una grande misdirection, il romanzo è ottimo, prova dell'abilità dello scrittore nel tenere desti l'attenzione e l'interesse dei lettori.
Dunque, "Il visitatore che non c'era" è un gran bel romanzo, molto scorrevole e ironico, ma con una trama gialla semplice e prevedibile.
May 14, 2023
No tengo palabras para este libro.
Aunque ya sospechaba quien podía ser el asesino fue un buen crimen. Sin embargo, siento que le faltó algo.
Doc, es el protagonista de esta historia. Una noche a la puerta de su casa llega un señor que se hace llamar Yehudi Smith, también fanático de Lewis Carroll. Los dos hombres empiezan a hablar sobre todo lo que saben de autor; luego, Smith le pide que lo acompañe a una reunión donde estarán varios hombres fanáticos de Carroll.
Obviamente es algo de locos y hasta el protagonista lo piensa. Decide que si, pero en toda una noche pasarán muchas cosas irreales.
Fue muy bueno, los capítulos eran cortos y podían dejarte con la intriga unos más que otros.
Aunque ya sospechaba quien podía ser el asesino fue un buen crimen. Sin embargo, siento que le faltó algo.
Doc, es el protagonista de esta historia. Una noche a la puerta de su casa llega un señor que se hace llamar Yehudi Smith, también fanático de Lewis Carroll. Los dos hombres empiezan a hablar sobre todo lo que saben de autor; luego, Smith le pide que lo acompañe a una reunión donde estarán varios hombres fanáticos de Carroll.
Obviamente es algo de locos y hasta el protagonista lo piensa. Decide que si, pero en toda una noche pasarán muchas cosas irreales.
Fue muy bueno, los capítulos eran cortos y podían dejarte con la intriga unos más que otros.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 2, 2023
Lo complicada que se puede volver la vida de un tranquilo editor de un periódico local en un pueblecito estadounidense a finales de los años 40, sobre todo si le gusta Lewis Carroll y Alicia y su espejo. Relato trepidante en el que el consumo de alcohol no cesa. Un novela breve, un misterio que debería ser leído por cualquiera que le guste lo inverosímil y lo surrealista.
November 13, 2022
Una gozada bastante loca con todos los alicientes de la novela negra y mucho humor.
November 27, 2017
I began to read American pulp thrillers some 30 years ago: it was an extension of my love of 1940s film noir and the self-conscious use of them by the French New Wave filmmakers. The ones I like tend to deal with desire, transgression, delirium and lots of murky morality. And, most importantly, they are always less than 250 pages long: there should be a law making it illegal to write thrillers longer than this. I read pulp for their stories and after 250 pages my attention span is reached and my interest wanders. I expect interesting situations, but not profound moral investigations. I don’t read that many, but now and again I will have a binge. The Night of the Jabberwock is nicely delirious. There is a story about a Lewis Carroll enthusiast; a small man who tells of a secret society of Carroll enthusiasts and hints that they have discovered the way to another form of reality; a kidnapping by two bank robbers and a shootout; a murder and then a missing body; two dead men in the trunk of a car; a pursuit by the police. It presents an insane and illogical world that spirals out of control, throwing the first person narrator into danger. In the end rationality is discovered and everything is explained, everything being reduced to fiendishly clever plotting by the villain (and by Brown). Although the kidnapping bank robbers were just coincidental. I like the delirium, but the explanations return the world to complacent normality.
March 11, 2021
Como me costó elegir un sólo libro de Fredric Brown. En la primera selección habían quedado no menos de cuatro, luego lo bajé a dos -el increíble Universo de Locos y este- y por fin me decanté por la que debe ser su obra policial maestra, aquella donde logró combinar mejor que nunca el ambiente surrealista, delirante e incluso fantasmagórico con una trama cercana al thriller. Conocida también cómo “Noche de Brujas” se nos cuenta aquí la historia de Doc Stoeger, el narrador de este relato, editor del periódico local de Camel City -fanático lector de Carroll, justamente- quién se verá envuelvo en la mayor de las pesadillas a lo largo de una interminable noche a partir de la visita de un extraño personaje, quien desata una serie de sucesos que terminarán por volverse una agotadora persecución. ¿Estoy siendo poco claro con la sinopsis? Puede ser, pero es que Noche de Brujas se trata de uno de esos relatos que conviene descubrir por uno mismo sin demasiada preparación para poder disfrutarlo plenamente. Sólo decir que la prosa de Brown está afilada cómo nunca, el balance entre tensión, delirio y humor es simplemente perfecto y es imposible no devorar el libro de una sola sentada. Serio candidato para competir por mi escritor favorito, nada de lo que escribió Fredric Brown me resulta jamás indiferente.
July 20, 2017
One of the best
Such a jolly good read, and perhaps one which I enjoyed from start to, expected but still laugh out loud, finish. The references to Alice in Wonderland brought back happy childhood memories, and the plot line was a delightfully light hearted Dashiell Hammett look alike. Highly recommended.
Such a jolly good read, and perhaps one which I enjoyed from start to, expected but still laugh out loud, finish. The references to Alice in Wonderland brought back happy childhood memories, and the plot line was a delightfully light hearted Dashiell Hammett look alike. Highly recommended.
August 30, 2021
Smart, fast paced writing? Check
Tight plot with twists and turns? Check
Heavy dose of Lewis Carroll and Alice in Wonderland references? Check
I love this book!
"Any man who is both literate and imaginative is an admirer of Lewis Carroll."
Tight plot with twists and turns? Check
Heavy dose of Lewis Carroll and Alice in Wonderland references? Check
I love this book!
"Any man who is both literate and imaginative is an admirer of Lewis Carroll."
May 12, 2018
For my full review click on the link below:
July 19, 2020
8,5/10
July 10, 2018
review of
Fredric Brown's Night of the Jabberwock
by tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE - July 10, 2018
There's a Facebook group called "Phlegm's corner" & the founder of the group, John Arnold, likes to post a diversity of images that appeal to him. At one point, it was bk covers. One of the bk covers was for Frederic Brown's The Case of the Dancing Sandwiches. I liked this title so much that I looked him up online & read that he had a good sense of humor. I decided to try to find things by him to read. This was the 1st. I loved it & I've loved the 2 I've read since this as much if not more. A new favorite author has been found!
The basic idea is that a small-town newspaper editor who's also a Lewis Carroll enthusiast gets embroiled in various murders & other crimes. He also drinks alot. ALOT. Alotof alcohol, i.e..
"He said, "Glad you got here early, Doc. It's damn dull this evening."
""It's dull every evening in Carmel City," I told him. "And most of the time I like it. But Lord, if only something would happen just once on a Thursday evening, I'd love it. Just once in my long career. I'd like to have one hot story to break to a panting public."
""Hell, Doc, nobody looks for hot news in a country weekly."
""I know," I said. "That's why I'd like to fool them just once. I've been running the Clarion twenty-three years. One hot story. Is that much to ask?"" - p 6
Of course, he's about to get his wish at a level he's veeerrrrrrryyyyyyy unprepared for. This bk was 1st published in 1951, 2 yrs before I was born. It's interesting to see a calculating procedure used that's the same one I was taught. Is anyone taught this way anymore or is it all about using common electronic devices?
"I figured it myself. "Fifty times twenty-three is—one thousand one hundred fifty; twice twenty-three more makes eleven ninety-six. Pete, eleven hundred and ninety six times have I put that paper to bed on a Thursday night and never once as there a really big hot news story in it."" - p 9
& the main character is 'getting old'. One of my mottos is Live Fast, Die Old but that doesn't mean prolonging one's life simply for the sake of it. In other words, I'd accept death if I didn't have so many better things to do than die. Still, 'getting old' is mainly fun if you've got a good memory, wch I do, but how long will that last? Otherwise, 'getting old' is NO FUN b/c, in my case, all the women in their middle 30s that I want to fuck my brains out w/ are having none of it. Since when do people in their mid 30s have good sense? It's disgusting. So, yeah, for me, reading about a character who's 'getting old' is a hoot.
"I looked at myself in the mirror back of Smiley's bar and wondered how old Al Grainger thought I was. "Hope I can do the same thing when I'm your age," indeed. Sounded as though he thought I was eighty, at least. I'll be fifty-three my next birthday.
"But I had to admit that I looked that old, and that my hair was turning white. I watched myself in the mirror and that whiteness scared me just a little. No, I wasn't old yet, but I was getting that way. And, much as I crab about it, I like living. I don't want to get old and I don't want to die. Especially as I can't look forward, as a good many of my fellow townsmen do, to an eternity of harp playing and picking bird-lice out of my wings. Nor, for that matter, an eternity of shoveling coal, although that would probably be the more likely of the two in my case." - p 15
Don't worry about picking the lice, people in Hell are allowed temporary green cards to do that & if they so much as complain about what a bum deal they're getting they get sent straight back.
Doc has already been drinking at the bar but then he goes home & is joined by an unexpected guest so they drink some more.
"He inclined his head with solemnity equal to my own, then tilted it back and downed his drink. I was a little late in downing mine because of my surprise at, and admiration for, his manner of drinking. I'd never seen anything quite like it. The glass had stopped, quite suddenly,a good three inches from his mouth. And the whiskey had kept on going and not a drop of it had been lost. I've seen people toss down a shot before, but never with such casual precision and from so great a distance." - p 23
Doc & the stanger-w/-the-impressive-drinking-style discuss Lewis Carroll:
"["]There ought to be a law against the printing of volumes of The Complete Works of Lewis Carroll. He should be remembered for the great things he wrote, and the bad ones interred with his bones. Although I'll admit that even the bad things have occasional touches of brilliance. There are moments in Sylvie and Bruno that are almost worth reading through the thousands of dull words to reach.["]" - p 24
մdzܳé! Actually, I have a Complete Works of Lewis Carroll (Vintage Books Edition, May 1976; originally published by The Modern Library, 1936), 1294pp, that might even be the edition Doc's objecting to here. It has Sylvie and Bruno in it, I read it, I don't remember it, I vaguely remember finding it sub-par. Like most or all 'complete' works, it isn't really, it doesn't have Symbolic Logic in it, e.g.. Still, I'm glad it exists, I'd have to raid Carroll's grave to recover teh rejected works if Doc's suggestion had been followed. I even have an edition of Alice in Wonderland in Latin: Alicia in Terra Mirabili. When I die, if the wrong people get to my aRCHIVE that'll be one of the things to go straight to the trash 'cause it's in a furrin language.
"I said, "Now, wait a minute. If I understand you correctly your thesis is that Lewis Carroll—leaving aside the question of what or who he really was—worked out through mathematics abd expressed in fantasy the fact that—what?"
""That there is another plane of existence besides the one we are now living in. That we can have—and sometimes do have—access to it."" - p 34
This is crime fiction but Brown wrote SF too & he lets the 2 genres seep together a bit. I like that. Since I've read this bk, I've read 2 more of his mysteries & I just bought 4 of his SF bks. Stay tuned. In the meantime, Doc is getting more than his fair share of the newsworthy night that he wished for.
"I think it must have been the reaction from the cowardice I'd shown and felt only a minute before. I must have been a bit punch drunk from Jabberwocks and Vorpal Blades and homicidal maniacs with lyncanthropy and bank bandits and a bank burglar—or maybe I thought I'd suddenly been promoted to the Roman candle department." - p 42
& that's only page 42. Doc keeps postponing calling the cops even tho he runs against one dangerous criminal situation after another. In 'real life' this isn't very likely but it's one of those things like when the teenagers separate into small search parties in the horror movie. You just know things are going to get worse.
"I decided that I'd better wait until I was somewhere else, before I called to report either Bat Masters' passing through or about the escaped maniac at my own house. It wouldn't be sfae to risk making the call from here, and a few more minutes wouldn't matter a lot." - p 44
Doc's been drinking alcohol continuously for more than 4 hrs. I was beginning to suspect some "Poultrygeist" action here where only the most drunk person survives.
"It was almost half past-twelve when we finished. There was just time for a stirrup cup, and we had one. With food in my stomach, it tasted much better and went down much more smoothly than the last one had. It tasted so good, in fact, that I decided to take the bottle—we'd started the second one by then—along with us. We might, after all, run into a blizzard." - p 77
"In a glass coffee mug, stir together whiskey, hazelnut liqueur, and Irish cream; top with coffee. Garnish cocktail with whipped cream and serve immediately." -
"I got out of the car and—I don't know why; or do I?—I took the bottle with me. It was so dark outside that I couldn't see the bottle in front of my eyes as I tilted it upward." - p 78
"I had three quick ones while Smiley read the headlines.
"The room began to waver a little and I realized I'd better get to bed quickly. I said, "Good night, Smiley. 'Sbeen wonnerful knowing you. I gotta—..."" - p 140
Just reading about all the drinking going on is practically enuf to make me sick. Perhaps the most unrealistic aspect of this story is that Doc doesn't just vomit out his stomach lining & die as a result after he's survived more adventures in one night than are likely for even the most hardened detective.
"He lifted the bottle and said, "To Lewis Carroll."
"Since that was the toast, I said, "Wait!" and got the cork quickly out of the bottle of whiskey I was still carrying, and raised it, too. There wasn't any reason why I couldn't or shouldn't get in on that toast as long as my lips, as a neophyte's, didn't defile whatever sacred elixir the "DRINK ME" bottle held.
"He clinked the little bottle lightly against the big one I held, and tossed it off—I could see from the corner of my eye as I tilted my bottle—in that strange conjuring trick again, the bottle stopping inches away from his lips and the drink keeping on going without the loss of a drop." - p 83
Alas, the outcome was different than in the Carroll story. He shd've lost all the drops this time. Maybe the little bottle was full of bees knees. I've always wondered about those.
"This wasn't the car in which Yehudi Smith had driven me here. The gear shift knob was hard rubber with a ridge around it, not the smooth onyx ball I'd noticed on the gear shift lever of his car. It was like the one on my car, which was back home in the garage with two flat tires that I hadn't gotten around to fixing." - p 86
That's what he thinks. What do you think?
Fredric Brown's Night of the Jabberwock
by tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE - July 10, 2018
There's a Facebook group called "Phlegm's corner" & the founder of the group, John Arnold, likes to post a diversity of images that appeal to him. At one point, it was bk covers. One of the bk covers was for Frederic Brown's The Case of the Dancing Sandwiches. I liked this title so much that I looked him up online & read that he had a good sense of humor. I decided to try to find things by him to read. This was the 1st. I loved it & I've loved the 2 I've read since this as much if not more. A new favorite author has been found!
The basic idea is that a small-town newspaper editor who's also a Lewis Carroll enthusiast gets embroiled in various murders & other crimes. He also drinks alot. ALOT. Alotof alcohol, i.e..
"He said, "Glad you got here early, Doc. It's damn dull this evening."
""It's dull every evening in Carmel City," I told him. "And most of the time I like it. But Lord, if only something would happen just once on a Thursday evening, I'd love it. Just once in my long career. I'd like to have one hot story to break to a panting public."
""Hell, Doc, nobody looks for hot news in a country weekly."
""I know," I said. "That's why I'd like to fool them just once. I've been running the Clarion twenty-three years. One hot story. Is that much to ask?"" - p 6
Of course, he's about to get his wish at a level he's veeerrrrrrryyyyyyy unprepared for. This bk was 1st published in 1951, 2 yrs before I was born. It's interesting to see a calculating procedure used that's the same one I was taught. Is anyone taught this way anymore or is it all about using common electronic devices?
"I figured it myself. "Fifty times twenty-three is—one thousand one hundred fifty; twice twenty-three more makes eleven ninety-six. Pete, eleven hundred and ninety six times have I put that paper to bed on a Thursday night and never once as there a really big hot news story in it."" - p 9
& the main character is 'getting old'. One of my mottos is Live Fast, Die Old but that doesn't mean prolonging one's life simply for the sake of it. In other words, I'd accept death if I didn't have so many better things to do than die. Still, 'getting old' is mainly fun if you've got a good memory, wch I do, but how long will that last? Otherwise, 'getting old' is NO FUN b/c, in my case, all the women in their middle 30s that I want to fuck my brains out w/ are having none of it. Since when do people in their mid 30s have good sense? It's disgusting. So, yeah, for me, reading about a character who's 'getting old' is a hoot.
"I looked at myself in the mirror back of Smiley's bar and wondered how old Al Grainger thought I was. "Hope I can do the same thing when I'm your age," indeed. Sounded as though he thought I was eighty, at least. I'll be fifty-three my next birthday.
"But I had to admit that I looked that old, and that my hair was turning white. I watched myself in the mirror and that whiteness scared me just a little. No, I wasn't old yet, but I was getting that way. And, much as I crab about it, I like living. I don't want to get old and I don't want to die. Especially as I can't look forward, as a good many of my fellow townsmen do, to an eternity of harp playing and picking bird-lice out of my wings. Nor, for that matter, an eternity of shoveling coal, although that would probably be the more likely of the two in my case." - p 15
Don't worry about picking the lice, people in Hell are allowed temporary green cards to do that & if they so much as complain about what a bum deal they're getting they get sent straight back.
Doc has already been drinking at the bar but then he goes home & is joined by an unexpected guest so they drink some more.
"He inclined his head with solemnity equal to my own, then tilted it back and downed his drink. I was a little late in downing mine because of my surprise at, and admiration for, his manner of drinking. I'd never seen anything quite like it. The glass had stopped, quite suddenly,a good three inches from his mouth. And the whiskey had kept on going and not a drop of it had been lost. I've seen people toss down a shot before, but never with such casual precision and from so great a distance." - p 23
Doc & the stanger-w/-the-impressive-drinking-style discuss Lewis Carroll:
"["]There ought to be a law against the printing of volumes of The Complete Works of Lewis Carroll. He should be remembered for the great things he wrote, and the bad ones interred with his bones. Although I'll admit that even the bad things have occasional touches of brilliance. There are moments in Sylvie and Bruno that are almost worth reading through the thousands of dull words to reach.["]" - p 24
մdzܳé! Actually, I have a Complete Works of Lewis Carroll (Vintage Books Edition, May 1976; originally published by The Modern Library, 1936), 1294pp, that might even be the edition Doc's objecting to here. It has Sylvie and Bruno in it, I read it, I don't remember it, I vaguely remember finding it sub-par. Like most or all 'complete' works, it isn't really, it doesn't have Symbolic Logic in it, e.g.. Still, I'm glad it exists, I'd have to raid Carroll's grave to recover teh rejected works if Doc's suggestion had been followed. I even have an edition of Alice in Wonderland in Latin: Alicia in Terra Mirabili. When I die, if the wrong people get to my aRCHIVE that'll be one of the things to go straight to the trash 'cause it's in a furrin language.
"I said, "Now, wait a minute. If I understand you correctly your thesis is that Lewis Carroll—leaving aside the question of what or who he really was—worked out through mathematics abd expressed in fantasy the fact that—what?"
""That there is another plane of existence besides the one we are now living in. That we can have—and sometimes do have—access to it."" - p 34
This is crime fiction but Brown wrote SF too & he lets the 2 genres seep together a bit. I like that. Since I've read this bk, I've read 2 more of his mysteries & I just bought 4 of his SF bks. Stay tuned. In the meantime, Doc is getting more than his fair share of the newsworthy night that he wished for.
"I think it must have been the reaction from the cowardice I'd shown and felt only a minute before. I must have been a bit punch drunk from Jabberwocks and Vorpal Blades and homicidal maniacs with lyncanthropy and bank bandits and a bank burglar—or maybe I thought I'd suddenly been promoted to the Roman candle department." - p 42
& that's only page 42. Doc keeps postponing calling the cops even tho he runs against one dangerous criminal situation after another. In 'real life' this isn't very likely but it's one of those things like when the teenagers separate into small search parties in the horror movie. You just know things are going to get worse.
"I decided that I'd better wait until I was somewhere else, before I called to report either Bat Masters' passing through or about the escaped maniac at my own house. It wouldn't be sfae to risk making the call from here, and a few more minutes wouldn't matter a lot." - p 44
Doc's been drinking alcohol continuously for more than 4 hrs. I was beginning to suspect some "Poultrygeist" action here where only the most drunk person survives.
"It was almost half past-twelve when we finished. There was just time for a stirrup cup, and we had one. With food in my stomach, it tasted much better and went down much more smoothly than the last one had. It tasted so good, in fact, that I decided to take the bottle—we'd started the second one by then—along with us. We might, after all, run into a blizzard." - p 77
"In a glass coffee mug, stir together whiskey, hazelnut liqueur, and Irish cream; top with coffee. Garnish cocktail with whipped cream and serve immediately." -
"I got out of the car and—I don't know why; or do I?—I took the bottle with me. It was so dark outside that I couldn't see the bottle in front of my eyes as I tilted it upward." - p 78
"I had three quick ones while Smiley read the headlines.
"The room began to waver a little and I realized I'd better get to bed quickly. I said, "Good night, Smiley. 'Sbeen wonnerful knowing you. I gotta—..."" - p 140
Just reading about all the drinking going on is practically enuf to make me sick. Perhaps the most unrealistic aspect of this story is that Doc doesn't just vomit out his stomach lining & die as a result after he's survived more adventures in one night than are likely for even the most hardened detective.
"He lifted the bottle and said, "To Lewis Carroll."
"Since that was the toast, I said, "Wait!" and got the cork quickly out of the bottle of whiskey I was still carrying, and raised it, too. There wasn't any reason why I couldn't or shouldn't get in on that toast as long as my lips, as a neophyte's, didn't defile whatever sacred elixir the "DRINK ME" bottle held.
"He clinked the little bottle lightly against the big one I held, and tossed it off—I could see from the corner of my eye as I tilted my bottle—in that strange conjuring trick again, the bottle stopping inches away from his lips and the drink keeping on going without the loss of a drop." - p 83
Alas, the outcome was different than in the Carroll story. He shd've lost all the drops this time. Maybe the little bottle was full of bees knees. I've always wondered about those.
"This wasn't the car in which Yehudi Smith had driven me here. The gear shift knob was hard rubber with a ridge around it, not the smooth onyx ball I'd noticed on the gear shift lever of his car. It was like the one on my car, which was back home in the garage with two flat tires that I hadn't gotten around to fixing." - p 86
That's what he thinks. What do you think?
December 18, 2018
Fredric Brown wrote another book titled Murder Can Be Fun. Night of the Jabberwock proves he was right.
Of course, this is more fun if the reader understands all the references. In the three paragraphs that follow, we see the thoughts of Doc Stoeger, the protagonist/narrator, who is, among other things, a Lewis Carroll aficionado, as he follows a stranger whom he met earlier that same evening into a neighborhood "haunted house" for a meeting of a group called the Vorpal Blades. The stranger has told Stoeger that his name is Yehudi Smith:
My mind kept reminding me how ridiculous this was. How utterly insane it was for me to have come here at all.
Where were you at one o'clock? In a haunted house. Doing what? Waiting for the Vorpal Blades to come. What are these Vorpal Blades? I don't know. What were they going to do? I don't know, I tell you. Maybe anything. Get with child a mandrake root. Hold court to see who stole the tarts or put the white knight back on his horse. Or maybe only read the minutes of the last meeting and the treasurer's report, by Benchley. Who's Benchley?
WHO'S YEHUDI?
Who's your little whoozis?
EXPLANATIONS:
✳️vorpal blades; hold court to see who stole the tarts; put the white knight back on his horse
These are all references to the works of Lewis Carroll. "Vorpal blade" is an expression used in the poem "Jabberwocky" in Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There. "Hold court to see who stole the tarts" refers to a scene in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, in which the Knave of Hearts is tried for having stolen tarts. "Put the white knight back on his horse" is a reference to the scene in Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There in which the White Knight keeps falling off his horse.
✳️get with child a mandrake root
This is from a poem by John Donne:
Go and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all past years are,
Or who cleft the devil's foot,
Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envy's stinging,
And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.
If thou be'st born to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
Till age snow white hairs on thee,
Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me,
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And swear,
No where
Lives a woman true, and fair.
If thou find'st one, let me know,
Such a pilgrimage were sweet;
Yet do not, I would not go,
Though at next door we might meet;
Though she were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet she
Will be
False, ere I come, to two, or three.
✳️treasurer's report, by Benchley
Stoeger is going to meet with a group called the Vorpal Blades. The idea of their meeting reminds Stoeger of going to a formal meeting, which might begin with a reading of the minutes of a previous meeting. That, in turn, makes him think that after the minutes are read, it would be customary to read a report from the treasurer of the organization holding the meeting. And that brings him to The Treasurer's Report by Robert Benchley.
From Wikipedia:
Robert Charles Benchley (September 15, 1889 – November 21, 1945) was an American humorist best known for his work as a newspaper columnist and film actor.
From Wikipedia:
The Treasurer's Report is a comedy sketch, made into a short film, written and performed by Robert Benchley. The film, made in the then-new Fox Movietone, documents an assistant treasurer of an organization struggling to present its yearly report.
✳️Who's Yehudi?
From World Wide Words:
The most common story ties it to the Pepsodent-sponsored Bob Hope radio show on NBC, which started in 1938. There was a running gag on the show, a catchphrase of supporting player Jerry Colonna, who would regularly ask: “Who’s Yehudi?”. This became extremely popular and provoked a song in 1941. (These were simpler days.)
The earliest example in print of Yehudi, in a sense of something that isn’t there, is from the Science News Letter of September 1940: “The machine has not received a nickname as yet. Since it deals with imaginary numbers, it may answer to the name of ‘Yehudi’.” In 1942, a film entitled Crazy Cruise featured an invisible battleship, the SS Yehudi. The following year, one of the very earliest US military stealth projects was called Project Yehudi.
I haven’t been able to find any earlier references, so the word really may have its origin in Jerry Colonna’s catchphrase. If it does, then there may well be a connection with Yehudi Menuhin. The story claims that Menuhin was engaged to play on one of the early shows, but that Jerry Colonna didn’t know who he was, and went around asking the cast. This is supposed to have led to the running gag of his trying to identify Yehudi.
Part of the popularity of Yehudi as a term for an invisible entity may lie in a linkage in people’s minds with a rhyme by Hughes Mearns that was set to music as The Little Man Who Wasn’t There in 1939 — just when the Colonna catchphrase was becoming known:
As I was walking up the stair
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today.
I wish, I wish he'd stay away.
✳️haunted house and Benchley
This has absolutely nothing to do with the passage from Night of the Jabberwock, but since that passage contains references to both a haunted house and Robert Benchley, it reminds me that Benchley (a Massachusetts boy by birth) once wrote something set in Nahant, Massachusetts, just so he could use the phrase "Nahanted house."
✳️Who's your little whoozis?
"WHO'S YOUR LITTLE WHO-ZIS?" is a song from the film "Night World" (1932). It was written by Ben Bernie, Al Goering, and Walter Hirsch.
Who's your little who-zis
Who's your turtle dove
Who's your little who-zis
Who do you love
Who's the little what's-it
That you're dreaming of
Who's your little who-zis
Who do you love
Tell me, who has you a-flutter
Whenever they're passing by
Melts your little heart like butter
Oh me, oh my
Say, when you get the blue-zis
Who you thinking of
Who's your little who-zis
Who do you love
✳️🌻🎵Hasn't this review gone pretty far afield?
Why, yes, it has. There are already fine reviews of Night of the Jabberwock here on ϻӮ. (I recommend the one by "Bev.") I thought I would just show how erudite and entertaining I find the work of Fredric Brown. Jabberwock is not one of Brown's very best mystery novels, but it is right under that top tier.
I will conclude with another passage from Night of the Jabberwock showing Stoeger - and Brown - in a more reflective mood:
The older you get, the less afraid of ghosts you are - whether you believe in them or not. By the time you pass the fifty mark you've known so many people who are now dead that ghosts, if there are any, aren't all strangers. Some of your best friends are ghosts; why should you be afraid of them? And it's not too many years before you'll all be on the other side of the fence yourself.
Of course, this is more fun if the reader understands all the references. In the three paragraphs that follow, we see the thoughts of Doc Stoeger, the protagonist/narrator, who is, among other things, a Lewis Carroll aficionado, as he follows a stranger whom he met earlier that same evening into a neighborhood "haunted house" for a meeting of a group called the Vorpal Blades. The stranger has told Stoeger that his name is Yehudi Smith:
My mind kept reminding me how ridiculous this was. How utterly insane it was for me to have come here at all.
Where were you at one o'clock? In a haunted house. Doing what? Waiting for the Vorpal Blades to come. What are these Vorpal Blades? I don't know. What were they going to do? I don't know, I tell you. Maybe anything. Get with child a mandrake root. Hold court to see who stole the tarts or put the white knight back on his horse. Or maybe only read the minutes of the last meeting and the treasurer's report, by Benchley. Who's Benchley?
WHO'S YEHUDI?
Who's your little whoozis?
EXPLANATIONS:
✳️vorpal blades; hold court to see who stole the tarts; put the white knight back on his horse
These are all references to the works of Lewis Carroll. "Vorpal blade" is an expression used in the poem "Jabberwocky" in Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There. "Hold court to see who stole the tarts" refers to a scene in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, in which the Knave of Hearts is tried for having stolen tarts. "Put the white knight back on his horse" is a reference to the scene in Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There in which the White Knight keeps falling off his horse.
✳️get with child a mandrake root
This is from a poem by John Donne:
Go and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all past years are,
Or who cleft the devil's foot,
Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envy's stinging,
And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.
If thou be'st born to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
Till age snow white hairs on thee,
Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me,
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And swear,
No where
Lives a woman true, and fair.
If thou find'st one, let me know,
Such a pilgrimage were sweet;
Yet do not, I would not go,
Though at next door we might meet;
Though she were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet she
Will be
False, ere I come, to two, or three.
✳️treasurer's report, by Benchley
Stoeger is going to meet with a group called the Vorpal Blades. The idea of their meeting reminds Stoeger of going to a formal meeting, which might begin with a reading of the minutes of a previous meeting. That, in turn, makes him think that after the minutes are read, it would be customary to read a report from the treasurer of the organization holding the meeting. And that brings him to The Treasurer's Report by Robert Benchley.
From Wikipedia:
Robert Charles Benchley (September 15, 1889 – November 21, 1945) was an American humorist best known for his work as a newspaper columnist and film actor.
From Wikipedia:
The Treasurer's Report is a comedy sketch, made into a short film, written and performed by Robert Benchley. The film, made in the then-new Fox Movietone, documents an assistant treasurer of an organization struggling to present its yearly report.
✳️Who's Yehudi?
From World Wide Words:
The most common story ties it to the Pepsodent-sponsored Bob Hope radio show on NBC, which started in 1938. There was a running gag on the show, a catchphrase of supporting player Jerry Colonna, who would regularly ask: “Who’s Yehudi?”. This became extremely popular and provoked a song in 1941. (These were simpler days.)
The earliest example in print of Yehudi, in a sense of something that isn’t there, is from the Science News Letter of September 1940: “The machine has not received a nickname as yet. Since it deals with imaginary numbers, it may answer to the name of ‘Yehudi’.” In 1942, a film entitled Crazy Cruise featured an invisible battleship, the SS Yehudi. The following year, one of the very earliest US military stealth projects was called Project Yehudi.
I haven’t been able to find any earlier references, so the word really may have its origin in Jerry Colonna’s catchphrase. If it does, then there may well be a connection with Yehudi Menuhin. The story claims that Menuhin was engaged to play on one of the early shows, but that Jerry Colonna didn’t know who he was, and went around asking the cast. This is supposed to have led to the running gag of his trying to identify Yehudi.
Part of the popularity of Yehudi as a term for an invisible entity may lie in a linkage in people’s minds with a rhyme by Hughes Mearns that was set to music as The Little Man Who Wasn’t There in 1939 — just when the Colonna catchphrase was becoming known:
As I was walking up the stair
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today.
I wish, I wish he'd stay away.
✳️haunted house and Benchley
This has absolutely nothing to do with the passage from Night of the Jabberwock, but since that passage contains references to both a haunted house and Robert Benchley, it reminds me that Benchley (a Massachusetts boy by birth) once wrote something set in Nahant, Massachusetts, just so he could use the phrase "Nahanted house."
✳️Who's your little whoozis?
"WHO'S YOUR LITTLE WHO-ZIS?" is a song from the film "Night World" (1932). It was written by Ben Bernie, Al Goering, and Walter Hirsch.
Who's your little who-zis
Who's your turtle dove
Who's your little who-zis
Who do you love
Who's the little what's-it
That you're dreaming of
Who's your little who-zis
Who do you love
Tell me, who has you a-flutter
Whenever they're passing by
Melts your little heart like butter
Oh me, oh my
Say, when you get the blue-zis
Who you thinking of
Who's your little who-zis
Who do you love
✳️🌻🎵Hasn't this review gone pretty far afield?
Why, yes, it has. There are already fine reviews of Night of the Jabberwock here on ϻӮ. (I recommend the one by "Bev.") I thought I would just show how erudite and entertaining I find the work of Fredric Brown. Jabberwock is not one of Brown's very best mystery novels, but it is right under that top tier.
I will conclude with another passage from Night of the Jabberwock showing Stoeger - and Brown - in a more reflective mood:
The older you get, the less afraid of ghosts you are - whether you believe in them or not. By the time you pass the fifty mark you've known so many people who are now dead that ghosts, if there are any, aren't all strangers. Some of your best friends are ghosts; why should you be afraid of them? And it's not too many years before you'll all be on the other side of the fence yourself.
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