“Quirk flashed his badge, and put it away. It could have said Baker Street Irregulars on it, for all the clerk had a chance to read it.”


Falling where this does within the Spenser canon, two books down the road from Pastime — where you could sense an undercurrent of Parker’s regret at changing the focus of the series to Spenser’s relationship with the perpetually annoying and snobbish Susan Silverman, rather than the mystery and plotting — Paper Doll is shockingly good. It is also shocking in that here, we get a backhand acknowledgement that something has gone askew. What is more, Parker does something about it, as though openly — if alas, only briefly — revolting against himself.

It’s been quite some time since I’d tackled this one, and found it marvelous. Though Spenser’s cloying interactions with the vain Susan Silverman are scattered throughout the narrative, they are lower-key than usual, and feel less intrusive. In fact, she doesn’t even appear until around chapter ten, because Parker has remembered what the Spenser series once was, and decided to write an homage — to himself. How do we know it was deliberate, and that Parker was revolting? Within the narrative of looking into the death of Loudon Tripp’s wife, Spenser finds they had been leading separate lives, while still living together. It bothers Spenser that the Tripps had separate bedrooms, for example. He is telling Silverman how something about the couple’s relationship feels all wrong. And then we get this gem of unadulterated irony —


SPENSER: “They’re perfect. She was perfect. His love was all-encompassing. His devotion is unflagging.”

SUSAN: “And there’s a legal limit to the snow here.”

SPENSER: “Yeah.”


Wow. Freud, heal thyself. It’s as if Parker is telling readers — no, he’s screaming at his readers — “I know, already!” And at least briefly, it creates a watershed moment, and a return to the kind of plotting and mystery we hadn’t seen in a long time in this series, so devoted was it to the snow job Parker had laid on with a scoop shovel. Parker acknowledged it, then he did something about it, and gave us Paper Doll.

While Paper Doll isn’t perfect, with elements of the case solving themselves, rather than being solved by good detective work, it’s still excellent compared to what the series had become. And while something is unresolved at the end of Paper Doll — another failing of later entries in the Spenser canon — this time it’s intentional, and as morally ambiguous as Spenser’s solution to April Kyle’s problem in Ceremony.

Loudon Tripp wants to know why his perfect wife was killed. With limited resources and high profile pressure because of who Tripp is, the seemingly random attack, is written off as just that. But Tripp doesn’t buy it, and Quirk sends him Spenser’s way, knowing no one can be more annoying than Spenser in his pursuit of the truth. And Spenser gets annoying real fast. Loudon’s teenage kids are brats, and everything Spenser discovers contradicts the glowing image of the important couple in Boston society. When he decides to go at it from the other end, looking into Olivia’s background, in case someone may have wanted to do her harm, things get suddenly ugly, and Spenser finds himself locked up and threatened.

Enter Martin Quirk, in what might be his finest moment of the entire series. Why Spenser and Hawk place Quirk in the same stratosphere of potential violence as themselves becomes all too clear. Though it’s only a flash, what had only been implied about Quirk within the series is shown here. Though the violence is left to Spenser, it’s clear that Quirk is just as formidable as Spenser, Hawk, and Vinnie, just as had been suggested time and again in earlier books. It’s Quirk’s moment to shine, and probably his most memorable appearance in the long-running series.

There is a lot going on here, plot-wise, from powerful political forces, to decades-old infidelities, and a husband in complete denial. And there turns out to be even more in this tough, violent and well-plotted entry more reminiscent of earlier books than post Valediction entries. Gay cop Lee Farrell is introduced in this one, Quirk having him liaison with Spenser. Again, in a return to earlier Spenser books, there is depth here, rather than preachy espousals. Farrell’s lover is dying of AIDS, and it affects his ability to focus. Parker handles it in a low-key way, even when Spenser and Susan attend the funeral, adding quiet poignancy to Farrell’s pain, rather than using flippant monologue to make it about how liberally cool Spenser and Susan were. Again, a return to the old Spenser books.

Rich and satisfying, with an almost out-of-the-blue revelation we should have seen coming due to someone’s odd behavior, and an ending as unresolved as we as readers guiltily hoped it might be, this is — almost — a return to greatness for this series. There are still some excellent ones to come in this series, though they were scattered among the weeds. But here, Parker seems to tackle the problems — both in the case, and with fans who were growing weary of the series — head-on. The result is a Spenser entry like we hadn’t gotten in a very long time. Sharp, crisp, moving and sometimes violent, this is a great read, and highly recommended. ( )

First edition very fine

If a case was easy to solve and uncomplicated Spenser wouldn't be needed. When a prominent society woman is murdered outside her Boston rowhouse the police don't have any suspects. The husband hires Spencer to pursue the case when Lt. Quirk recommends him. Spenser finds more than the client or other prominent Bostonians wanted found. His investigation takes him to South Carolina where he begins to question the victims identity. Too much to give away so here I stop. This is #20 of Robert B. Parker's Spenser series. ( )

It's hard to say what makes me so happy about this series. But whenever I spend time with Spencer, I wind up really enjoying it. The dialogue is just magnificent. Yes, the storylines are not the most complex and there is an air of unreality about the whole thing...

But, each Spencer novel serves as a bit of a bit of a repreive. I know the world doesn't work the way it does in these novels. People aren't this principled and good doesn't win most of the time. But, when I've finished with something dense and dark, I often need a reminder that good exists and can win. Spenser is about the best there is for that.

Paper Doll was perhaps not as complex as some of his other stories. But, I did find the human emotions around the several families destroyed in the story very real. It also stands as a simplistic, but truthful, look at how people hide from the truth and recreate themselves out of trauma.

It's not going to change your life, but it might make you smile and find a bit of hope. It did for me... ( )

A model wife and mother is beaten to death using a framing hammer and the police have concluded that she was selected at random by an unknown assailant. The husband is not satisfied and hires Spenser to investigate further. Spenser hardly knows where to begin; there are no suspects and the police were unable to uncover any motive for the crime.

I’ve faithfully followed Parker’s series featuring ‘Jesse Stone’ and ‘Cole and Hitch’, but only occasionally picked up a copy of his Spenser series. Paper Doll is one of his earliest entries in the Spenser series but it is easy to see why this and Parker’s other series have been so successful. Parker has the ability to capture the reader’s interest from the very beginning and maintain it throughout. A slow reader, I nevertheless read this book in little more than a single day.

Parker’s is adept at drawing clear, interesting word pictures of people and places using an accessible style. He intersperses an occasional chapter focusing on Spenser’s love interest to provide context to Spenser’s life. These short chapters do not slow the movement of the plot and sometimes even offer a snippet that advances Spenser’s investigation. The use of short chapters make it easy to keep reading, even when you have to do “something else” in a couple of minutes, because as a reader you are never more than 3-4 pages from a convenient stopping place.

My only complaint with Paper Doll concerns the unsatisfying conclusion. Spenser’s final decision is understandable only if you decide that some people’s lives are not as important as those of others. Spenser’s resolution of the ethical dilemma he faced is based on a flawed concept of morality.

Despite that sour note, Paper Doll is entertaining and fun to read and the ethical issues raised by the ending would be great fodder for a book club discussion. ( )