I hadn’t planned to resume the Donald E. Westlake Memorial Dortmunder Re-Read—had in fact picked up Jimmy the Kid and put it back down as not what I was in the mood for—and then I found myself with a sleeping SteelyKid in my arms and nothing else at hand. (She really, really needed the sleep, and was unlikely to keep sleeping if I put her down. Nb.: do not offer me parenting advice.)
This is the very meta one in which Andy Kelp proposes a job using a novel as a blueprint, one written by Richard Stark—Westlake’s pseudonym. (It doesn’t actually have independent existence.) At least in my edition, there’s no indication of the connection, which might make it rather a peculiar experience for someone unfamiliar with Westlake’s career—though whether more or less peculiar, I don’t know. Since, after all, having one set of fictional characters critique the realism of the plans of another set of fictional characters is pretty darn peculiar.
Because this is a Dortmunder novel, things do not go anywhere near according to plan. And the complications are amusing enough, but somehow the book just didn’t click for me. It may have been the circumstances of the re-read, but on the other hand, this is not one of the Dortmunders I re-read usually, so it may be something about the book as well. I just can’t quite put my finger on what.
Ongoing series notes: they’re still not “regulars” at the O.J., but their absurdity levels are approaching baseline. Dortmunder seems angrier at Kelp’s perceived jinxings of plans than I remember him being later. And May and Murch’s Mom again play a more active role than in many later books.
I had a very hard time enjoying JtK as well. I was able to identify at least one main reason for that (though there may be more):
It’s a kidnapping. Kidnapping is fundamentally ugly and evil and appalling, which immediately makes it inappropriate for Dortmunder et al. It also makes it extremely difficult as a comic vehicle — there simply isn’t anything funny about kidnapping.
(And it wasn’t like the later book with the truly evil character, either, where that contrast was deliberate. I wonder if this really was a Parker book gone bad?)
There’s also the character of Jimmy himself. Westlake made him impossible to root for and impossible to root against, and difficult to like (at least for me). That’s an uncomfortable position for a reader.
That’s fair about the kidnapping. I saw Jimmy’s character as an attempt to undercut/equalize that problem, but as you say, it puts the reader’s rooting interest in an awkward position.