Amber L. Younger was nobody’s fool. He’d been around. Thirty-seven states and fourteen foreign lands including Germany, Japan, England, and the Canal Zone. When a man spends thirty years in the United States Army, he doesn’t come out of it a hick, no sir. He comes out of it knowing what’s what.
Younger had had some sort of title in front of his name for almost as long as he could remember. At twenty, a green frightened dumb kid from the hick town of Sagamore, in Nebraska, he’d become Private Abner L. Younger, USA. That was the time of the Great Depression; there was no work for Abner’s father anywhere to be found, and if there was no work for the father there was sure as hell no work for the son. If he wanted three meals every day and a bed indoors every night, the only thing in the world for Abner to do was join the Army.
Promotion came slow both sides of the ocean in those days, and when the Second World War came along in 1941 Younger had advanced only one small step, up to Pfc. But with the war came promotions for everybody, and soft jobs for those who’d been smart enough to be in the Army, already when the war started. Younger spent his wartime service at a basic training camp, and wound up a buck sergeant when the war was over.
He had twenty years of duty behind him a few years later, and could have retired then, but he’d just got another promotion, and knew he had a good chance to make master sergeant by the time thirty years was up, which would mean a hell of a lot more pension, so he decided to stick it out the extra ten.
He made master sergeant. Almost anybody can, if he stays in the Army long enough. Then his thirty years were done, and while he was going through the discharge red tape a clerk asked him what his civilian address was going to be.
And he didn’t know. Neither of his parents were still alive, and he’d been out of touch with any other relatives for decades. He finally told the clerk General Delivery, Sagamore, Nebraska, as a temporary address, because he couldn’t think of anything else. He’d forward a permanent address when he had one.
That was the only reason he went back to Sagamore, to pick up his pension checks. But once there, there was no reason to leave, nowhere else to go, no one anywhere in the world that he wanted to see or that wanted to see him. So he stayed on. He joined the local American Legion Post, and through that got to know some of the better elements in town, and settled down to enjoy his retirement.
But he was only fifty. He’d had something to do all his life, donning a uniform every day and going to a specific place and having specific things to do. Time hung heavy, now he was retired. He had no hobbies, and his pension wasn’t lavish. He found he was lying around the house late in the mornings, and going too often to the movies, and spending too much time in front of the television set either at home or down at the bar in the cellar of the American Legion Post. He was drinking too much beer, eating badly, getting too little exercise. He was putting on weight, and his digestion was going bad.
Then the police job came along. He heard talk about it down at the American Legion, about old Captain Greene retiring and wonder who’ll take over, there’s no men with good leadership qualities on the force at all. The pay’s too low to attract first-rate men, somebody said, and that led straight into the old argument about property taxes, but Younger had heard enough.
So now he had the highest rank of all. Not Private Younger anymore, not Pfc. Younger, not even Master Sergeant Younger. Captain Younger. Yes, and it could just as well be General Younger, because he was the highest-ranking man on the force. Seventeen men, and he was their captain.
At first he wore the uniform all the time, dark blue with modified riding pants, and boots and a garrison cap. But the weight he’d put on never came off again, and he had to admit he didn’t look good in the uniform. Besides, R.H.I.P. Rank Has Its Privileges. As captain, he could wear civvies if he wanted. As captain, he was the only man on the force who could wear civvies. So he started wearing civvies.
But that made a problem. In the uniform, he was declaring his rank for the whole world to see, but in civvies what was he but just another stocky civilian? He thought about it and thought about it, and finally settled on the cowboy hat. A good ten-gallon hat would set him apart, announce to the world that here was a man who held some rank, that was for sure. A cowboy hat and a good suit, the combination would show he was something special. Besides, he thought he looked good dressed that way.
At fifty-one, he’d reached the peak. Captain of the Police Department, a respected citizen, secretary of the American Legion Post; he was content, he had everything he wanted.
And then he was shown the possibility of wanting a lot more.
—Richard Stark, The Jugger, 1965, Pocket Books
As far as I’m concerned, this book is a masterpiece. I recently read THE BLACK ICE SCORE, which is, I think, the eleventh Parker novel, and THE JUGGER still towers over the rest. And I say that while enthusiastically acknowledging that there hasn’t been a bad one in the bunch.
But THE JUGGER is the most chilling. It’s a bad place to start, if you’re new to the books, because it breaks pretty sharply from the formula, and part of its power comes from that, but Westlake takes Parker about as far as he can within the limits and the logic of the character, and it gives one the shivers.
Of course, THE BLACK ICE SCORE is not lacking in chilling moments itself. It’s amazing how much variety Westlake can squeeze out of the heist structure, and there’s one scene in THE BLACK ICE SCORE that doesn’t involve Parker at all, which is one of the more skin-crawlingly casual portrayals of violence I’ve read. I like these books very much, is what I’m saying.
Yeah, I’m going through all the Parker novels in order, rereading some, discovering others anew, and THE JUGGER is quite special. It’s definitely one that the post-structuralists should go for, in that it achieves its quintessential status via the ABSENCE of what is the salient element in all the other novels’ storylines. And, yes, it is absolutely chilling and almost hilarious in its fatalism. It’s kind of funny that Westlake got to take Godard’s “Made In USA” out of circulation given that it’s relatively clear from the film that AT MOST Godard MAYBE only read the plot outline on the back cover of the paperback or something.
As for the above character sketch, it definitely has an, um, emotional resonance for me…
My favorite in the series is “Butcher’s Moon,” the last of the original group of Parker novels, (a follow-up to “Slayground,” one of the most cinematic of the series, a forerunner to Die Hard, with an inexplicably botched film version released in the early 80s) which is arguably the most epic Parker as well as the rare venture into “This time it’s personal” plotting, further linking the series with Stark’s other series, the generally lighter Grofield novels.
Taylor Hackford is directing the upcoming film “Parker,” with Jason Statham (not a terrible choice) in the role, though I haven’t seen any specific source novel listed, which suggests all they’re taking from Westlake/Stark’s fantastic novels may be the character name and the idea of a bitchin’ thief.
I’ve just read a nearly perfect example of hard-boiled fatalism: Black Wings Has My Angel by Elliott Chaze. Would make a terrific film.
It’s a shame that Westlake/Stark has been so badly served by cinema – more Westlake than Stark, as Point Blank is at least a bona fide masterpiece, and The Outfit is pretty terrific too. I remember years back Michael Lehmann being very excited about adapting DEW’s The Axe (which ended up being filmed, in a desultory manner, by Costa-Gavras), and I’m sure there have been many other nearly-were situations over the years. However, the ones that actually got made have usually been of the sort that have Jack Davis posters (not in itself a bad thing, but a signifier of a certain sort of ambition).
The University of Chicago Press is having a pretty big sale right now, which includes a lot of their rereleased Parker novels.
http://www.press.uchicago.edu/dms/ucp/books/pdf/subject-catalogs/Sale_11_UChicagoPress.pdf
I have no faith in Hackford’s film. It would be great to be proven wrong, but Statham’s presence indicates that Parker will be portrayed as the world’s best and most focused thief, but the far more troubling aspects of his morality, or complete absence of, will be scrubbed away.
The first Westlake books I loved were THE AXE and THE HOOK. Both are brilliant, still, and both have been adapted into these obscure, tucked away little films that I’m fairly curious about but don’t know if I even have the option of seeing them. Outside of those, and the few Parker adaptations, Westlake’s comic novels seemed to be picked up with a lot more frequency. Which is sort of strange. I know that, broadly, he’s more commercially known as a writer of comic caper novels, but I would think filmmakers would largely gravitate towards the several dozen darker novels he wrote. I mean, couldn’t someone take a crack at HUMANS?
@ Glenn – “It’s definitely one that the post-structuralists should go for, in that it achieves its quintessential status via the ABSENCE of what is the salient element in all the other novels’ storylines.”
Absolutely. There is something so pure about THE JUGGER. As for “almost hilarious in its fatalism”, wait’ll you get to THE SEVENTH, if you haven’t already. The fatalism in that one is actually deliberately comic, in my opinion, without actually containing any jokes. It’s a book where you can almost see Westlake at his typewriter saying “Fuck it”, to great effect.
No joke: I would LOVE to see a Parker novel adapted for cinema in the style of Chantal Akerman’s “Jeanne Dielman.”
THE JUGGER was memorably filmed by Jean-Luc Godard as MADE IN USA, starring Anna karina and Lazslo Szabo.
It was shot simultaneously with 2 OR 3 THING I KNOW ABOUT HER.
Georges de Beauregeard needed a film to book when LA RELIGIUESE was banned so he asked Godard to oblige of he could, cause Godard works fast.
Godard, huh? Well how about that.
And Glenn, as I haven’t watched JEANNE DIELMAN yet (though I “have the DVD”, which might be the modern day equivalent of “No, but I saw the movie”), but based on what I know of the film, and applying that to a Parker adaptation, yes, I would watch the pants off that.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2B4AE2MbbmE&feature=related
I like the idea of Parker adapted in the style of Akerman and if Soderbergh can film a crime thriller in the manner of RED DESERT then.…well, just don’t offer it to Universal.
I used to resent Westlake for blocking MADE IN USA until I read his side of the story of getting screwed by de Beauregeard in McGilligan’s Backstory.
Talk of untapped hardboiled writers makes me realize James Crumley will never reach the screen.
I would love to see every 2.35:1 movie look as sharp, stable and colourful on humble DVD as Criterion’s ‘Made in USA’ does.