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.

So I need a new job

So I've finished a number of books since I last wrote here. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers was one. Nineteen Seventy-Four by David Peace was another. A Coffin for Dimitrios by Eric Ambler and Delirium by Laura Restrepo were two more. More on that later.

I'm working on The Map of Love by Ahdaf Soueif and it is bad. It was a Booker finalist so I bought it 3 for a $1 at the library in my quest to read supposedly good literature but it is only reinforcing my realization that the people who give these prizes out don't have any better taste than anyone else. This book is a mess. It's basically an excuse for the author to show her historical research and jerk off about her (idealized) culture and it's political situation.

So we're in Egypt, right? And this woman Amal has a long lost American cousin Isabel who found a trunk containing her great-grandma's stuff. Isabel is in love with Amal's brother Omar who puts the two in touch so Amal can translate the papers in the trunk. See, Anna the great-granma was married to Amal's father's uncle 100 years ago. So part of the book is Amal's diary from 1997, part is Anna's diary and letters from 1901, and a few segments are from Isabel's point of view although she's not really very important. Don't worry, the change in perspective with a century dividing them doesn't leave you with whiplash; none of these characters have a personality.

Anna was widowed when her husband died from, I don't know, malingering, because it turned out war is bad, so she goes to Egypt. There she is kidnapped by rebels because she had dressed as a man and they take her to their master's house and she meets a gorgeous pasha who insists on taking her sightseeing. And if this sounds like something out of a third rate romance novel that's because it is and, no, Ahdaf, slyly winking at the audience about it doesn't make it okay. If you're not going to rise above cliches it's still eye-roll worthy no matter whether you acknowledge it or not.

In 1997 Amal takes Isabel around to see things and meet people though this is somewhat complicated because Isabel is *an American*. In these segments we learn Amal is, for some reason, no longer with her husband and she came back home from England to become a recluse and this thing with Isabel is finally drawing her out of her shell. She muses how Isabel is just starting in life and how her life is just ending. People treat her like an old lady. The family tree at the beginning of the book makes it clear she's 45. I can no longer take this character (or author) seriously.

Amal and the author get to expound at length about politics and other really boring stuff. The worker's are mistreated! The Egyptian people are always beset by evil outside forces like the British and now the Americans and the Jews (oh, excuse me, I mean the Israelis)! The government is controlled by the Americans! We have our victim hat firmly in place oh yes we do! Power to the people! Then Amal takes Isabel to her country mansion where the peasants who farm her land bring her offerings of goods and food while she graciously serves tea. All of her loyal servants love their dear mistress so, so much, she's such a fine lady. Won't she solve all her problems for them? (That noise in the background is me gagging.) (Also, I mean no disrespect but Ahdaf's writing is so English it hurts.)

There's a glossary in the back so you can look up all the Arabic phrases and words she slathers on the text. There are a few anti-Semitic mini rants that I'm saddened but not surprised to see have mainly gone unmentioned in critic's reviews.

Anna. Beautiful, understanding Anna. She of the golden hair and violet eyes. The progressive woman who feels liberated when she travels wearing a veil. She's so kind and not at all afraid when she's kidnapped. She can't tell what the aloof and distant pasha thinks of her but his seeming indifference bothers her and she's not sure why. She gets along wonderfully with his sister. They're so lucky their society has no problems outside of what the big, bad foreigners bring. Isn't it fantastic that none of the characters have any sort of conflict at all?

Huuuuuurrrraaaarrrrggggghhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!