I would not have believed it until seen. Actually, that’s not the case. I believed it! Intrigued it! Embraced it! Ran with it on my Amazon wishlist for about two and a half years (pitiful of me). Put it on my Kindle for over a year (double pitiful of me). And just this past February finally received it! You’re probably wondering what in the world am I talking about. So let me just get to the point: I finally read the first book in Marcia Muller’s Sharon McCone hard-boiled private-eye series, Edwin of the Iron Shoes. I know. I know. Big deal, right? Well for me–a female-controlled crime fiction junkie–it most certainly is a big deal! Though I'm awfully late about it...Most of you guys know I LIVE for Sue Grafton’s California private-eye, Kinsey Millhone. ("LIVE" is an extreme, extreme understatement). And you’re also familiar with my apathetic, strange off/on relationship with Sara Paretsky tough ‘n’ tumble Chicago-based woman of the same profession, V. I. Warshawski. But here’s the thing. The ticket. The point of this erratic and fervent post–beginning with a little history lesson.
In the early 80’s, Grafton and Paretsky transformed the voice of crime fiction. Through, respectively, their characters Millhone and Warshawski; the authors released the female private-eye alone into the playgrounds of her male counterparts. And their leading ladies came in just as hard-hitting, proficient, and uncompromising as the male investigators. But, thankfully, their characteristics weren’t channeled through the virility associated with men.
Millhone and Warshawski utilized a certain degree of wiles, ingenuity, and vocal consensus to turn a given case in her favor. Though also dogged at times for answers, they would see cases to the end with just as much profession and dedication as men. Yet, when push came to shove, they were sometimes afraid to shove back. They had concerns about the use of violence, as it was first considered a defense and hardly a course of action. So as level-headed and determined as they could be, force and violence always seemed a final recourse. Neither were always necessary in the end–as the ladies were likely to have already outsmarted a criminal. Nevertheless, what I described is precisely why I love the female detective. She’s afforded an unassuming element that serves as a lethal surprise that never gets old when it's called upon. Basically, I love a calculating bad-ass woman.
So the opportunities for the lone female private-eye to take stage arrived from Marcia Muller’s 1977 influential debut, Edwin of the Iron Shoes. It's here Muller introduced the world to private detective Sharon McCone. McCone was the first unshackled female detective to toss conventions previous held by women in her profession. She wasn't a side-kick to the male private-eye. She didn't use anything other than her brains and interrogating acrobatics to mine for information. She had a voice–a retort–for societal affairs. She had a heart, though took the zero nonsense approach. She was brave. She also meant business, needed to get paid with as little moral compromising, and was well-adjusted to standing alone. And, well, she had a gun in her purse just in case. You know, for those occasions she just may have to shoot somebody in the face for her own protection.
So Muller opened the doors to this new field of detective fiction. (I'll get into P. D. James' same decade debut of Cordelia Grey at another date.) She employed a modern, realistic, and liberated woman to traverse the minefields of deception and murder. All of which beamed on me as I finally read McCone’s first case.
After the last page, I understood where Kinsey and Warshawski got her voice. And Muller reminded me–so clearly–why it is that I love this genre when led by women. Seriously, I highlighted a bucket of passages as I read the book. Passages that screamed to me, “Kinsey would do/say this.” Or, “This sounds like an argument Warshawski would find herself in.” The revelation was too plain not to acknowledge and recognize.
After the last page, I understood where Kinsey and Warshawski got her voice. And Muller reminded me–so clearly–why it is that I love this genre when led by women. Seriously, I highlighted a bucket of passages as I read the book. Passages that screamed to me, “Kinsey would do/say this.” Or, “This sounds like an argument Warshawski would find herself in.” The revelation was too plain not to acknowledge and recognize.
So yes. I’ve finally gotten down to the root of the modern, free-sprinting, hard-boiled female detective. And clearly, I'm dedicated to moving forward with Muller and McCone. I have a long way to go to catch up but, as of now, I’ve found myself a new place to find radiance for my passions.
Part of me wants to review the book, but the other half of me simply wants to share some of those passages I mentioned. Only because they excited me, and I'm not to hard to please when I've found something special. But just to be clear, I loved Edwin of the Iron Shoes once I got over having to read it on the Kindle (not good with e-readers). It was watery in some areas. Yet, McCone's voice was solid. But what the hell can I say? There's a certain respect and credit due to Muller's first book. To me, that's good enough.
