THE AVENGER, Matthew Blood, 1952
Considering that "Matthew Blood" was really Davis Dresser and
Ryerson Johnson and that the protagonist of this book is
named Morgan Wayne, I really expected a variation on
Dresser's Michael Shayne. What I got was something completely
different. Instead of a PI, Morgan Wayne is solidly in the
line of lone vigilantes that stretches from Race Williams and
Richard Wentworth down to Mike Hammer and Mack Bolan. The
authors drop us down in the middle of the plot and never
really slow down long enough to explain things, expecting the
reader to catch up as the plot careens along. After a while,
it becomes clear that Wayne--who is either a gangster
himself, some sort of government agent, or something else
entirely--is trying to break up the drug traffic in New York,
but some of the questions raised about his real identity and
background are never answered.
This is a hard book for me to evaluate. There's a lot of that
sappy Fifties love talk that's been brought up before in the
discussion of Gold Medals, a good bit of psychobabble, some
lurid talk about drugs that's about on the level of "Reefer
Madness", and some really crude writing. The ending is sort
of a letdown, too. Having said all that (you guessed it), I
liked the book. I have a real fondness for books in which a
lot happens in a short amount of time, and that's certainly
true here. There's one more Matthew Blood book, and I plan to
read it, too.
Best, James
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