| True to Formula Francis is Great Fun |
November 18, 2010
Dick Francis, the author of forty-four mysteries placed mostly within or around the world of English steeplechasing, every single one of which I've read at least once, died last February at the age of eighty-nine. Every fall since I can remember, I have waited for the annual installment of the Francis mystery and I was worried about how I would fill my autumnal, perennial need for Francis' guaranteed delivery of a good, old-fashioned mystery. I need not have worried: Francis's son, Felix Francis, has taken over the mantle of horse-racing mystery fulfillment. Felix, who helped his father research many of the best of the Dick Francis novels, and helped with the writing of the last three (including the less than stellar Even Money, reviewed below) this fall released Crossfire, the final collaboration between father and son.
Crossfire begins in Afghanistan. Thomas Forsyth is a captain in the English army, one who "had taken to service life like the proverbial duck to water....The army had been much more to me than just a job....it had been all I had known for fifteen years and I loved it." But his chosen career is cut short when a roadside bomb almost takes his life. Forsyth is sent home to Lambourn to recuperate with his cold and distant mother, a celebrated trainer of steeplechase winners, and his never-loved stepfather, her third husband. Forsyth picks up on tension in the homestead, unrelated to his own problems, and when one of his mother's horses finishes last in a race he should easily have won, Forsyth finds himself wanting to help, in any way he can.
Crossfire contains all of the necessary Francis mystery elements including a brave, independent, and solitary hero; a background slew of horses and horse people; a rich landscape of English countryside; a love interest; physical and mental punishment of the protagonist, which he, heroically of course, overcomes; and a finale that is blood-pumping, justice-serving, and deeply satisfying. As long as Felix sticks to the formula, I can be happily reassured that my annual forays into the mysteries, agonies, and joys of English horse racing will continue, unabated, into the foreseeable future.
|
November 9, 2009
I have been reading Dick Francis mysteries for years and have read all forty-three of his horse-centric tales of suspense and thrills, every one of them helmed by a tough hero and variously anchored by a love interest or a sibling or a friend; in the end, the hero is always alone in his final battle and he vanquishes, but often with a dire price to pay and lasting wounds to heal, both psychic and physical. Francis has written the last three books assisted by his son Felix and I reviewed their second collaboration, Silks, one year ago, lauding its "resolute action by the hero that is spine chilling and cracking, and quite gratifying as well". This year's title is Even Money and it offers a thorough introduction to the world of at-track and on-line betting on horse races.
Even Money follows through with the usual solid, solitary, suffering-but-not-showing-it-hero, an afflicted love, compelling supporting characters, and, for something new, a particularly twisted family history. When Ned Talbot, bookmaker, finds himself face to face with a father he had thought long-dead, the fast-paced action starts and keeps up at a steady rate until the all-out (but less satsifying than usual) final show-down. What works in Even Money is the complex plot with its two story-lines and nice backdrop of betting and hedging bets on the racing of horses; the book also brings in the latest on bet-making, horse-identifying (tattooed lips in the United States and electronic chips everywhere else), mental illness, cell phones, iPods, and the old-as-the-hills fraudulent tendencies of man. What doesn't work so well is the level of suspense: there is none. The who, what, and why of the danger facing Talbot just never builds to a dramatic point and although I enjoyed reading the book, I was never in a state of frantic page-turning, desperate to know what happened next. The other problem with this novel -- and for me, this was huge -- is the complete absence of horse and horse-sensibility from the story. Francis has written novels which do not feature horses front and center but he has never written one which so callously offers up the brutal killing of horses without comment or regret. It is Francis' love of horses and his understanding of them, and of the world of racing, jumping, breeding, and doctoring them, that have always made his books distinct, alive, and compelling. Without the horse-love interest, the story itself was fine but nothing more.
|
November 10, 2008
Wow! Dick Francis has done it again in Silks (published in 2008). For years Francis turned out books that were great fun, thrilling mysteries set in the racing world. After his wife died, Francis announced no more books would he write, that her companionship and help had been too instrumental to his work. Thankfully after a few years Francis realized that his books are the greatest tribute he could make to her; with his son Felix Francis, he co-wrote Dead Heat. Truly, that book was not so good. So it was with much trepidation that I read the latest mystery co-written by father and son, and I am very happy to say that it is right up there with some of Francis' best novels.
To Francis fans, Silks continues with the well-used formula we have come to love: corruption in the racing world, either in business or in personal life, and the man who just cannot let it go; the man is a self-deprecating but thoroughly heroic hero; the female love interest is wholesome but plucky, good looking but modest, sometimes frightened but always loyal; the plot twists and turns on questions of identity and responsibility; anonymous threats propel action; just when you thought you could take a breath and relax, there is a final encounter between good and evil; and all in all the story is well-told with a satisfying ending and all nastiness taken care of. This book adds in a resolute action by the hero that is spine chilling and cracking, and quite gratifying as well.
Other Dick Francis favorites of mine: Longshot, Banker, Hot Money, Bolt, Proof, Twice Shy, Reflex, and Whip Hand. I did not like the short stories in Field of Thirteen.
|
|