Fletch by Gregory McDonald, chapters 1 - 5

So, I have a decision to make: Should I continue to read Fletch? Because quite frankly it's made out of shit. Well, that's not quite accurate. I've read five chapters and what it's actually made out of is 1970s adolescent boy power fantasies. And being a woman who wasn't alive during the 70s, I'm not sure I'll be able to make it all the way through without straining whatever muscles you use when making expressions of disgust. So, what do we have.

We have Fletcher, who, while dictating his notes to one of those old fuck-off tape recorders at the end of the second chapter, literally refers to himself like this:
"What Stanwyk doesn't realize is that I am the great hotshot young reporter, I. M. Fletcher of the News-Tribune, who so dislikes his first names, Irwin Maurice, that he never signs them. I am I. M. Fletcher." p.13
Okay, one: Thanks, author, for giving us that information in an entirely natural way. Tying in to one, Two: Nobody speaks like this, at least not un-ironically, and if they do, nobody wants to speak with them. Maybe this is why he has to tell it to his tape recorder. Three: Ugh.

So, in order to make his character relatable and likeable, at least to a certain type of man, we learn several things about good old (young!) Fletch. He was in the Marines and won a Bronze Star but hasn't gone to pick it up because he doesn't care or something. Two, he's been married and divorced more than once and his ex-wives are continually trying to get alimony from him. One of them left him because she feared him after he threw her cat out the window of their seventh floor apartment. This is relayed in such a way that it's clear the readers are supposed to side with Fletch and think she's being ridiculous. She is not. He doesn't like his editor, Clara. This is an interesting bit. It's the bit where the awesome male character who is top notch at his job is being impeded by the female who is (the male informs us without actual proof) incompetent but has her position because she is supposedly sleeping with the boss. Something Fletch never fucking shuts up about. In fact, his harassment of her is constant.

"I love you, too, bitch." "Don't get any crumbs in Frank's bed." "You sound relaxed and subdued, like just after sex." "...how is our editor-in-chief, Frank Jaffe, in bed?" "As a cooking writer. You know nothing about hard news. You know nothing about features. You know nothing about the mechanics of this business." "...you are totally unqualified and, I might add, totally incompetent. Go to bed with Frank if you like..." "...bitch editor." "You don't know what you're doing." "If you do that, Clara, you'll be dead before me. I will kill you. Make no mistake." "Christ, I wish I didn't have to talk to you, you're such an idiot." "Stupid bitch."
Most of that is in one conversation.

Also. Fletch is shacking up with an exploited 15 year old heroin-addicted child prostitute. So there's that.

I can already tell that Fletch is going to be made to look like a genius because everyone else is dumb as a brick. He calls up business offices and doctors and they just give him private information because... he says he needs it.

Also, he steals stuff from the newspaper library which is deserving of death by a thousand papercuts, frankly, and would be the worst of his character traits if he weren't a pedophile.
Have I mentioned he's apparently sleeping with a child? Because that should probably be mentioned multiple times. If it turns out he really is just living with her without any actual sex then awesome. He may be a thieving duplicitous misogynist pet killer but at least he wouldn't be a pedophile.

Oh yeah, what's the mystery. Some guy hires Fletch to kill him because he has terminal cancer and wants to leave the insurance money to his family without going through the pain of his illness. He's rich, it sounds like a story. Whatever. I'm sure there will be intrigue of some sort and Fletch will never be wrong and everyone else is just an idiot who gets in his way because other people are stupid but especially girls. God, it's like some of them might get to be your boss or something but man, it's cool. They're actually stupid bitches who only got the job because they're fucking the boss. You're still the man and way smarter than that stupid whore, guys, just read my Self-insert character and slip into the warm power fantasy of a really weird and gross man.
Also, something about drugs on the Beach. Who is the main supplier? Where is Fat Sam getting them? I'll try to contain my enthusiasm for the outcome of this mystery. Clearly, it's just as interesting as what Fletch cleverly titles "The Murder Mystery." I can see why people hire him to write words down.

Maybe I'll read another couple of chapters just to see if he can top pedophilia as his worst character trait. That's hard-going but I believe in him! He is the great hotshot, after all.