Your Humble Blogger recently read his very first Perry Mason book, The Case of the Singing Skirt. I had assumed, with I think some reason, that Erle Stanley Gardner was a total hack, and that there wasn’t any particular reason to read any of his stuff. Then I found myself in a small town with a small-town library, and not a lot of time to browse. So, I picked the thing up, with low expectations.
On page 16 (of my 1959 Morrow edition), Della Street (Mr. Mason’s secretary, for those who are unaware even of the basic set-up) is telling Mr. Mason that there is a case involving a figure. Mr. Mason inquires whether the figure at question is animate.
“Very animate,” Della Street said.See, I’m hooked right there.
Mason grinned. “You mean it undulates?”
“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “it sways.”
It’s an odd book, though. Jed was complaining, the other day, about the duration of dialogue, and there was some skepticism expressed about whether having two pages of dialogue was a good idea in general. David Moles indicated that although there are writers who do it well, most writers should avoid it. Well, I wouldn’t really say that Mr. Gardner does it well; there aren’t that many really witty lines, and the strong point of the book is really the absurdly complicated plot. But the plot is advanced almost entirely through dialogue, and for pages at a time the dialogue is only broken by the most minimal identifications.
OK, for instance: on page 82, a few lines down, a fellow named Helman Ellis comes in to consult with Mr. Mason. There is a brief description of him, and then the two begin to speak. Here is the entire text that lies outside quotation marks on the rest of that page: Mason said. Ellis said. Ellis said. Mason said. Ellis said simply. Mason raised his eyebrows. Ellis said. Mason said.
On page 83: Ellis said. Ellis took a deep breath and said. Mason said. Mason said. Ellis said. Mason said.
On page 84: Mason asked. Mason asked. Ellis said.
On page 85: Mason asked.
On page 86: Mason asked.
On page 87: Mason said. Mason said. Ellis said.
On page 88: Mason said.
On page 89: Mason said. Ellis exclaimed, half rising from the chair. Mason said. Ellis said. Ellis quit talking, compressed his lips in a thin straight line. Mason said. Ellis said. Mason asked. Ellis’ face showed dismay. Mason said, dryly. Ellis said. Mason asked. Ellis hesitated, then said.
On page 90: Mason said. Mason interrupted. Ellis said with some feeling. Mason said.
On page 91: Ellis said. Mason raised his eyebrows. Mason said. Ellis said.
On page 92: Mason told him. Mason said. Mason said. Mason said. Ellis said, heatedly.
On page 93: Mason said. Ellis said. Mason asked. Ellis thought over the lawyer’s remark. He said, getting to his feet.
And that’s about two-thirds of the way down the page, eleven pages after Ellis walks in. After that, Mr. Mason has two pages of dialogue with Paul Drake, and then four with Ms. Street. That is all before the courtroom scene, which of course takes up the last half of the book, more or less, and which is all dialogue. The thing reads like a radio script, in fact, although (strangely enough) Mr. Gardner was lousy at writing for radio and television, and other people had to do the adaptations.
chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek,
-Vardibidian.