McNally's Puzzle (Archy McNally) | Lawrence Sanders | The Parrot Also Rises, Against A Brilliant...

McNally's Puzzle (Archy McNally) | Lawrence Sanders | Amusing

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McNally's Puzzle (...

	McNally's Puzzle (Archy McNally) Lawrence Sanders Berkley Books, 1997 - 343 pages average customer review:based on 12 reviews view larger image
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Wealthy bird-store owner Hiram Gottschalk feels his life is in danger. And he's right--as playboy-turned Palm Beach P.I. Archy McNally realizes when his mutilated body is found. Between Gottschalk's shady employees, his paranoin son and heir, and his twisted twin daughters, there's no shortage of pieces to this scandalous puzzle. But for Archy and his sidekick, Binky, the biggest piece is still missing--the killer with a motive to kill two more birds with one stone.

The Parrot Also Rises, Against A Brilliant Yellow Sun?

Usually I know why a book keeps me reading; I know exactly what the capture cons are. In the case of McNALLY's PUZZLE, I kept reading with my own puzzle to saw with a jig. It had something to do with a jazzy writing rhythm and with the tightly focused, First-person-Narrative pushing Archy's socially elite slang.

I found myself wondering where I'd left my dictionary; didn't want to lose the frequent opportunities to learn new words. Yet, I realized that some of the expressions Archy chewed and spewed with polished abandon were not only beyond my repertoire, they wouldn't be found in a published "literary academy" of American English. Whom does one approach for information on colloquialisms and slang which slip-slides around in socially superior swamps causing nose-in-the air neck kinks?

The book continued to draw me in, in spite of the mild irritation at Archy's dynamically driven dialogue and sensual soliloquy, doused with words I somewhat grasped in context, phrases which nudged me forward as I felt I should stop reading to research, and really digest every nuance of prose ... maybe that's part of the draw. Sanders does have a knack for creating a cajoling rhythm which carries me along, whispering to let go of whiffs of undone details as I fancy forward, wondering what Archy will say and do next.

I'm in Archy's mind, even if it is a dramatic dichotomy to my own sloppy thoughts. Archy, even if his speaking patterns irritate me, is feisty-foot-dragging fun to be with.

McNALLY'S PUZZLE is my first taste of this Lawrence Sanders series. I was initially brought to it by readers' complaints about Archy's obsession with food, and Lawrence's including every tasty bite in the plot. In fiction I seek stimulation of the senses, though most often my moods prefer to go beyond and before the abundantly available ploys of the shock syndrome, and gregariously graphic sex. What else is there but solitary, tongue-in-teeth tangos with the manna of the gods? Well, yeah, there are mountains and streams, street lamps and bed springs ... these are a few of my favorite things ... huh?

For me, the statement, "Archy bites off a big piece of bread," might work up a hint of saliva. That's what I usually get in a work of food fiction, when I'm lucky. But, the descriptive luxury of, "His teeth sink into the delicate texture of a soft, yeasty, French baguette, edged by the crunch of a crusty cover," could get a stomach growl out of a full balloon. That's how I write the description of taking a bite of bread. I could use much more of that brand of sensual prose in my escape fiction (in my reading of it, that is; my writing's usually saturated with appeals to the senses). Yet, I'm not puzzled about the natural tendency of some readers to have their tongues in their toes (shoes), wanting to go get ON with the fancy footwork.

It is the rhythm of the syntax, though; it is. And the tight focus on Archy. That is what kept me reading long enough to get beyond my minimal irritation at the pondering push of the word dance.

Once the rhythm had me going, and going, and picking up the book each time I had the time to read, I began being led by the nose, as well as the tongue, into the mystery developing with the precise timing of a master at a modern dance studio.

Then the pace picked up slightly, plateau-ed, picked up a little more, and so on, to a perfect conclusion. That's all I'll say about that, not wanting to sing the secrets, or sling them around.

Sanders exposed true confidence as an author in the pacing pauses of Archy's daily routines in this novel and especially in the succinct, crisp style of the picked up dance of denouement. I laughed out loud in cheering glee several times during the final five chapters. Archy's father's heated question to a brouhaha which brought him out of his night sanctuary was classic, heart-healing humor.

Okay. I see why Archy lives on and on, even though Sanders now has wings and flies with exotic birds of paradise, bless his heart and soul.

Still have another puzzle, though. My copy of this novel, an early version hardback, has the jacket with a gorgeously glamorous, multi-colored parrot glossed against a bright yellow sun. During one of my first few reading surges, I had stopped for a solitary lunch at a fun café near a boss bookstore, in Hotchkiss, Colorado. Lifting spectacles up on my nose, I noticed that the decor at my booth included a large, fashionably-framed print of a parrot, a twin to the one on my book jacket. In fact, the restaurant was plush with parrot paraphernalia, parroting the swampy mystique of Palm Beach, sister to New Orleans in oozing mysterious muchies. Was this an omen of some sort? A message from the miasma of muses meandering off Florida's Gold Coast? Splash!

Okay. No puzzle. Synchronicity. Jung.

Thanks, Sanders, for the satisfyingly snippy side-trip to Florida. I really don't know if I like your style, exactly, yet it's puzzlingly appealing. I have a feeling I'll one day be able to honestly say, "I do like your style!" Already, I admire and enjoy it. And, I like your subtle development of Archy, all the way through the book, especially the warm, simple, real way you enhanced the exchanges between Archy and his new Terrier, Hobo. Love the way this spirited canine was brought into the family.

I'll be back! Bank on it. I won't spit in the eye of the parrot who feeds my soul!

I'll bow to a master and say thanks,

Linda G. Shelnutt
(Where's my dictionary ... oh ... yeah ... it's on the kitchen table.)

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Amusing

This is an Archy McNally murder mystery. It follows Archy's investigation of threats to Hiram Gottschalk, one of his father's Palm Beach legal clients. Archy himself is a light-hearted socialite, who describes characters first by the labels on their clothing. Archy works on his investigation mainly by wining and dining the suspects at parties and clubs, and manages to discover who is behind Gottshalk's eventual murder without working up a sweat.

Archy's character, with his unrelenting focus on fashion and the finer things of life, makes the book rather amusing. However, the story isn't entirely believable, since Archy, is of course, able to dictate to the bad guys where and when he will confront them. These weaknesses aside, the book makes an enjoyable light read.

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This Archy - not a Goodwin - solves mystery involving parrots, no orchids

This is one of those books I picked up on a whim, simply because the parrot on the front cover caught my eye while I was browsing for something else.

After reading the synopsis, I decided it had enough of a "parrot" theme to warrant expenditure. It's one of several in a series of mysteries featuring protagonist Archy McNally, the "son" in the law firm of McNally & Son, who looks after the investigative chores of the firm.

In this story, one of his father's clients, Hiram Gottschalk, the owner of a pet parrot store, requests an investigation be made as he feels someone is trying to kill him. The evidence - a picture of he and his deceased wife is destroyed, his favorite record is broken, his pet mynah bird is found strangled - is not something he can take to the police, especially since it's apparent the person doing this is either a family member or store employee.

Before Archy can reach any definite conclusions, Gottschalk is found dead, stabbed through the eyes with a stiletto. Digging deeper, Archy finds odd things going on at the pet store, and a net search for info about endangered parrots results in the firm's computer system getting hacked.

Sanders, a veteran crime writer, weaves a good yarn, and Archy's unique manner of expressing himself ("leaving me with my flabber totally gasted", "plussed I was non") injects chuckles throughout the tale.

I did find a few holes, some items that I can only assume were meant to be red herrings, but were never explained at the end, which indicates some weakness in the plotting. I might have found that more annoying, but because I am such parrot lover, I find it difficult to dislike any mystery story that involves a parrot. I tend to cut such stories more slack than I would stories with similar flaws that do not involve parrots.

Even with those flaws, it still makes for an enjoyable read, whether you're a mystery buff or a parrot lover - or even better, if you're both!

Would I buy another McNally novel? Probably not. Would I recommend this one to a casual mystery reader? Yes I would.

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substandard, but good comical caper

I say substandard only because Lawrence Sanders' standards are very high. This caper involving the death of a bird shop owner is not terribly intriguing. Too much effort is made to describe gourmet meals, and not enough crime drama is presented in this tale. Silly Binky Watrous gets a girlfriend and a new career entertaining geriatrics, while Archy deals with airhead twins, a pothead son, and a very shady pet shop manager. I found this the most burdensome of several McNally books to read.

reviews: page 1, 2, 3

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