The Underground Man: A Lew Archer Novel

Though he's generally listed third in the triumvirate--Dashiell Hammett (The Father); Raymond Chandler (The Son); and Ross MacDonald (The Holy Ghost)--Mr. MacDonald is more properly recognized as the greatest of the private eye authors. Hammett's one great novel, The Maltese Falcon, and the equally great film version, along with his precedence in time (1939), are undeniable, and Chandler was likewise fortunate enough to have Humphrey Bogart put his imprint on Phillip Marlowe, but neither sustained a series of novels at the steady high quality of the Lew Archer books. In fact, Hammett and Chandler tailed off rather badly at the end of their careers, whereas the final few Archer mysteries scaled heights that not only transcended the genre but make them necessary reading for anyone hoping to understand the "malaise" that afflicted America in the 1970s. The Underground Man, published in 1971, may well be the best of MacDonald's oeuvre, which would make it pretty much the best p.i. book ever written. Hard to argue it isn't at least one of the pinnacles. The story opens with Archer feeding peanuts to some blue jays outside his apartment--the sort of balance of nature to which MacDonald seemingly wanted him to restore the world by solving crimes. But when a little boy emerges from another apartment, followed by his mother and then by her estranged husband, Archer is plunged into their domestic quarrel and then into a series of adulteries, broken marriages, petty crimes, frauds, and murders stretching back across three generations. And, as if to demonstrate that such disordered lives must have cosmic consequences, the backdrop for the tale is a raging brushfire, fed by the Santa Ana winds, that sweeps across the scenes of the crimes and threatens to consume the whole cast. And just as mortal crime triggers natural disaster, so too does a character suggest to Archer that he serves as a similar spark to human tinder: "You smell like trouble to me," he said. That stopped me for a minute. He had a salesman's insight into human weakness, and he'd touched on a fact which I didn't always admit to myself--that I sometimes served as a catalyst for trouble, not unwillingly. Of course, a forest fire burns away dead wood and allows for new growth, but Mr. MacDonald provides us little reason to believe that Archer's cases have much salutary effect. To the extent there is some hope, Mr. MacDonald would appear to be suggesting that the confused young people of the era were not so much to blame for their problems as their parents -- that Greatest Generation that he indicts in a way that will shock readers of Tom Brokaw. Typically drawing a parallel to the environmental degradation that was imagined to be a sign of the times, he refers at one point to "a generation whose elders had been poisoned ... with a kind of moral DDT that damaged the lives of their young." that image of moral DDT is quite powerful and positions his fiction quite comfortably in the American P

All you need to know about this fine Ross Macdonald novel is that John Leonard put the review of The Underground Man on the front page of The New York Times Book Review in 1971. That was unheard of for a mystery. Suddenly, everyone discovered Ross Macdonald. He truly is the successor to Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett. And much more psychologically sophisticated. Besides this book, his best may be The Chill and The Zebra Striped Hearse.

I just happened upon this book, and I'm now a confirmed Ross Macdonald fan! I am amazed by reviewers that revile a book written over 20 years ago because it does not match the mores and attitudes of today. One of the charms of this book is that it beautifully captures Southern California in the 60s. I was there, guys, and women did not act or dress the way they do now. Don't judge this book out of the context of its era. Instead of being irritated because the book does not portray today's world, enjoy the ride into the past! As for Macdonald's writing, it was masterful! With a few well chosen phrases, he sets the stage and immerses you in his world. I thoroughly enjoyed the book, and look forward to reading more.

The Underground Man was the first Lew Archer novel I had ever read. I was 12 or 13 and was looking for something other than the Stephen King and Michael Crichton potboilers that were so popular at the time . Reading this book was an epiphany. Now, nearly 15 years later, and hundreds of PI novels later, I have discovered nothing that surpasses this series.The thing I liked about what MacDonald did is he took all the traditional Hammett/Chandler plot points and character traits (later to become tired cliches when grabbed on by dozens of lesser writers) and made them fresh and relevant. All the authors that came after him, from Parker's Spenser to Grafton's Kinsey Millhone (who sometimes resembles a female Lew Archer) owe their livelihoods to MacDonald.The Underground Man is particularly interesting. In it, the author combined a natural disaster ( a devastating wildfire in the Southern California hills) with the turmoil that has enveloped the family whose members he is investigating. Like most of the later Archer stories, he serves not so much as the investigator of wrongs than an emissary to untangle the complex and poisonous relationships of the characters and try to avert impending tragedy. He is not so much interested in "who did it" as much as finding out what circumstances caused the situation he is now mixed up in. Please disregard the previous negative reviews of this book. It doesn't sound to me like they even read the bookvery carefully. They totally misinterpreted the character. Lew Archer is not the stereotypical hardened tough guy of zillions of pulp paperbacks. He is actually a sensitive softie, perhaps too soft for his own good on occasion ("down these mean streets this weeping man must go" as one wag put it). The other characters, the female ones included, are neither overly virtuous nor utterly weak as the negative reviewers seem to believe. They are simply ordinary people caught up in a bad situation. Politically Correct (even though the term didn't even exist when the book was written) platitudes give way to a realism never seen before in a detective story. MacDonald transcended genre. Lew Archer is above all a flawed romantic who tries to make sense of a senseless world. I think the world could use a few more Lew Archers. Both this character and his creator have been inspirational to me in more ways than I can count.Highly recommended.

In the winter of 1972, the New York Review of Books featured this novel on its cover and proclaimed the it had won the editors over: From then on, detective mysteries would be considered literature - not just pulp fiction for the lowly masses. They had good reason. The way MacDonal writes, the story reeks of southern California in the 60's, capturing the feel of a Sunday drive through Santa Barbara and along its beaches. It also recognizes that all powerful families have dark histories that sadly repeat themselves over and over. This is the central theme; a constant in Ross MacDonald stories, but best expressed in this one. This mystery novel will not soon leave your memory bank; you will recall it fondly over and over for many years.