Book Club: The League of Frightened Men

[jest]

Sorry to be sliding this in at the last minute. There was a volcano. It erupted.



League of Frightened Men continues the trend of Archie acting like a five year old. In this case, a five year old with attention deficit disorder. The story opens with Wolfe and Archie in the office. Archie is in the middle of an I'm BORED, Pay Attention to Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee tantrum. I suspect that Archie Goodwin is every bit as high maintenance as Nero Wolfe himself.

While Archie throws pejoratives around like it is 1935, we are introduced to the antagonist, Paul Chapin, who became disabled during a hazing incident that took place at Harvard University. Paul Chapin is an Evil Cripple, with shades of Genius Cripple. I am really curious about how prevalent these tropes were when Rex Stout was writing this book. My familiarity with the Evil Cripple/Evil Wheelchair User comes mostly from Doctor Who; I'm not sure what sort of presence it had before that.

Anyway, enter Paul Chapin, psychopath. Enter the cowardly clients. Who exactly is intended to be the sympathetic character in this book? Evelyn Hibbard seemed like a good person, but she was only around for about five pages.

Which reminds me, although Wolfe is the character that is generally considered to be a misogynist I actually found Archie's attitude towards women the more offensive in this book. All his comments about women are along the lines of "…provided she's not just an item for the cleaners" or "nobody that knew merchandise would have put her on a bargain counter." It speaks volumes. Whereas Wolfe is "the only man I had ever met who used absolutely the same tone to a woman as to a man."

Archie's favorable opinion of other men seems to based on a combination of intelligence, competence, work ethic, nerve, and social class. He has a certain amount of contempt for college boys and the class privilege they represent. He obviously likes to think of himself as a working man. In Chapter 7 Archie refuses to let Fritz bring him his glass of milk in the evening, presumably because Archie doesn't like to think of himself as someone who needs to be waited on?

Wolfe's attitude towards Archie's intelligence is condescending, and who can blame him? Archie is more often in the role of man of action than man of intelligence. He claims that he has been working for Wolfe for seven years. This is easy to believe when they fight like an old married couple. At one point Archie is yelling at Wolfe when Orrie shows up with Paul Chapin's box, causing Archie to immediately break out the respectful tone and it's all, Honey, let's not fight in front of the company. *g*

But, seriously, what exactly has Archie been doing for seven years? Keeping orchid records? Body guarding? Nursing Wolfe through relapses?

Wolfe's agoraphobia and relapses are one of the most interesting features of the early books, and are something I like to keep track of.

In chapter 10:

"…but I was thinking of suggesting that you go out and look at him."
"Out?" Wolfe raised his head at me. "Out and down the stoop?"
"Yeah, just on the sidewalk, you wouldn't have to step off the curb. He's right there."
Wolfe shut his eyes. "I don't know, Archie. I don't know why you persist in trying to badger me into frantic sorties. Dismiss the notion entirely. It is not feasible."

Of course, we need to recognize the significance of Wolfe leaving the house to appreciate the scene where Archie has been drugged and is devastated at the thought that Wolfe might be murdered.

(Confession: every time I read it that scene makes me squeee so hard that I actually have to put the book down and pace around my flat enjoying it for a while before I can resume reading.)

In Chapter 11: "I have seen him, during a relapse, dispose completely of a ten-pound goose between eight o'clock and midnight."

That strikes me as a symptom of something other than eccentricity.


Thoughts? Opinions?

Comments

[dorinda]

I am really curious about how prevalent these tropes were when Rex Stout was writing this book.

I don't know much about the history of the trope either; I'd be curious to learn. But I do get the sense that it must have been familiar by this time, if only because of the way the story subverts it. Chapin is introduced with such high suspense, with the way the League members build him up by talking about him in such awestruck/horrified tones and so forth, not to mention the super drama of his first appearance. It seems like he's going to be Wolfe's Moriarty-figure, the Super-Genius-turned-to-Eeeeebil who can meet him on a higher plane.

But no! It turns out the firing pin is filed off his gun, he's never killed anyone at all, he keeps a furtive secret box of used underwear, and basically his image is way bigger than any bite he actually has. In the end, he's reduced to saying, you know, "BEWARE, for I'm going to WRITE YOU INTO MY NEXT BOOK AND PRETEND-KILL YOU AAAHAHAHAHAHA," which is...no Moriarty, that's for sure.

(Not that he becomes a figure of fun, though. Wolfe, at least, always treats him with the same even tenor--neither fearing nor pitying him.)

Of course, we need to recognize the significance of Wolfe leaving the house to appreciate the scene where Archie has been drugged and is devastated at the thought that Wolfe might be murdered.

Oh, that whole SEQUENCE. I swoon. ♥ ♥ ♥ Archie crying. The way the realization that his cherished leather case is missing makes him cry again. The very symbolism of the leather case, with the orchids on one side (done from a real Cattleya) and pistols on the other, with their initials inside, given to him for his birthday--and it sounds like it might actually have been Wolfe's first birthday present to him ("and I didn't even know he knew when my birthday was."). How much he admits to valuing it. The way that, even still totally doped-up and grieving, he can see significance in Scott's missing taxi-driver jacket. His powerful and irrational desire just to go home, to "see for myself that Wolfe wasn't there, look at things..."

And then when he recognizes Wolfe's voice on the phone: first stiffening up and nearly dropping the phone, and then "I let the phone down and pressed it against one of my ribs for a moment, not wanting to make a fool of myself." Oh, the barely-managed REPRESSION.

I also really appreciate the subtle revelations of the other side of that sequence. Because at first it seems like it might've been an embarrassing anti-climax, with Archie so worked up and Wolfe seemingly calm and safe. However, Wolfe actually takes pains to give Archie (and us) some glimpses of the fear and danger he went through on his end--his concern for whether Archie should be up, the way he quotes back the note, something more beneath the surface about that birthday gift:

"What persuaded me that some sort of action was called for was the presence in the envelope of the leather case you had seemed to like."

He paused for a glass of beer. I grunted, and thought I ought to say something, but all I could think of was, "Yeah, I liked it. And you've still got it."

He nodded, and resumed.

Wolfe of course keeps underplaying the story--for instance, claiming that the really distressing thing was Dora Chapin's driving--but that's how Archie (and we) know it was truly serious. He talks slightingly of her knife, claiming it wouldn't have been long enough to kill him, but of course his throat could be slashed as easily as anyone's. And he admits that she had undeniable power over him, knife or no knife: "...and of course she had in reserve my anxiety as to the peril of your situation." So neither the narrative, nor Wolfe himself, leave Archie out on his limb with regard to the worry and care each has for the other, and what it can bring them to.

...more later! :D

The miserably brief span of human life

[dorinda]

I can't believe I never noticed this, until this re-read! Archie's initial poking has produced movement from Wolfe, who (we are about to find out) has made the connection between Chapin and Hibbard, the guy who asked Wolfe for help while Archie was away. And this happens:

Wolfe said, "Archie. One would know everything in the world there is to know, if one waited long enough. The one fault in the passivity of Buddha as a technique for the acquisition of knowledge and wisdom is the miserably brief span of human life. [...]"

"Yes, sir. You mean, we just go on sitting here and we learn a lot."

"Not a lot. But more, a little more each century."

"You maybe. Not me. If I sit here about two more days I'll be so damn goofy I won't know anything."

Wolfe's eyes flickered faintly.

...then Wolfe needles Archie, who tells him to go to Hell, and Wolfe replies, Awesome, you're annoyed and therefore awake, let's get to work. (As if it's his job to nudge Archie into activity!)

Looking at it fannishly, I love to envision this as Wolfe's first foray into broaching the topic of not-aging and how useful it would be. But Archie not only takes it lightly but also complains about the very idea, that it would be against his nature and drive him insane, so Wolfe veers away with the typical tactic of snark/countersnark.

And of course we know Archie doesn't seem to stop aging until later in the books. So perhaps Wolfe regroups from this casual attempt, and returns to the topic when he feels Archie will be more receptive?

[soupytwist]

I love this one so much! Drugged Archie being so completely, openly torn apart by the idea that Wolfe had died, and the case! and Wolfe leaving the house for Archie! (Incidentally, I love that a large part of the overarching character plot is "learning to read Wolfe and finding out exactly how much he actually does love Archie". I love it SO MUCH.)

I am not sure about Chapin either - he's really interesting, and I liked that he came over as legitimately powerful and smarter than the people who got him injured. I liked that it sort of started accidentally, too, actually, it came over to me as kind of 'well, okay, opportunity, may as well carry on with that and make fools of them all'. I mean, yeah there was the Evil Cripple issue, but I sort of felt like that was at least a bit better than most people attempting similar ideas at the same time? But the whole impotence thing and the frankly weird collection of stolen undies. I don't really know where to even begin with those, because they're so weird!

Archie's attitude to women gets better, I think, though; I like to put that down to Lily and also inexperience trying to work out exactly what the "normal" straight dude attitude would be. He very often seems like he's putting on his love for women - not that there's reason to doubt that he thinks various women are hot, but kind of like he's mentioning it because he feels he should, or expressing it a certain way because he thinks that's how he should express it. It's especially notable in cases where he's being his flirty skirt-chasing self riiight up until case intervenes and then it's bye-bye with narry a regret - I'm reading Poison a la Carte right now and omg seriously - but a similar sort of distance in his attitude is there from right early on, and it's fascinating. He likes the ladies, but he doesn't want to live with one, despite how many "I should have asked her to marry me!" jokes he makes to rile up Wolfe.

Oh and I wanted to add that the relapse stuff struck me similarly, as absolutely serious mental health stuff going on for Wolfe. What do you reckon Archie thinks of it? It seemed to me like Archie takes the relapses quite seriously; he's not like "and we got him assessed by a doctor" about it, but he never as far as I know/noticed made any "aaand Wolfe should just snap out of it the big baby" kind of comments either. It made me think that it would make total sense if one of the big reasons Archie first got hired was to assist during those relapses.

[liviapenn]

My thoughts!

In the second sentence of the book, if you're paying close enough attention to the implications, Archie actually gives away the twist in the last chapter! As it turned out, the name of Paul Chapin, and his slick and thrifty notions about getting vengeance at wholesale without paying for it, would have come to our notice pretty soon in any event.... Oh Rex Stout. :D

Also notable in this opening scene is the part where Archie is needling Wolfe. Okay, first of all, it's just CUTENESS, esp. the bit about the snowflakes. "You mustn't go to sleep, sir, you freeze to death!" When he moves on to reading silly things out of the paper at Wolfe-- you know, this is actually not the last time that some random thing Archie reads in the paper (1) seems to be random, but actually someone walks into the office in two seconds and asks them to take that very case, or (2) seems to be random and unrelated, but actually is totally related to the case they're currently on, which means either that it's a convenient dramatic device on Rex Stout's part, OR that Archie's subconscious is smarter than even he gives it credit for. *G*

I mean, at least this time there is some plausibility, because he reads like six different things before he hits on the one that makes Wolfe go "Hey, wait a minute," but iirc later on in the canon he just randomly picks up the paper, is like "Did you see this?" and oh yeah, it HAPPENS TO BE A VITAL CLUE. It's almost like over the years he starts becoming vaguely genre aware and doing it on purpose because he knows that randomly picking up the paper and reading something out of it will provide relevant information, like reading the I Ching or something.

-- Then there's this:

"Suppose you read it."

"Viva voce?"

"Archie." Wolfe looked at me. "Where did you pick that up, where did you learn to pronounce it, and what do you think it means?"

"Do you want me to read this stuff out loud, sir?"

"It doesn't mean out loud. Confound you."

This is so adorable and *domestic*. I love Wolfe's befuddlement and low-key grumpiness. That last "Confound you", I'm sure, is covering up an inner "Archie stop being SO ADORABLE."

Speaking of Archie and Wolfe being totally married, which we weren't, this bit from Chapter 3: "No, sir. I wouldn't for anything. A trick is okay, and a deep trick is the staff of life for some people, but where you've got us to at present is wallowing in the unplumbed depths of - wait a minute, I'll look it up, I think it's in Spenser."

Crushing Archie Goodwin sarcasm (tm)! And then Wolfe's response:

"Archie, I warn you, some day you are going to become dispensable." He stirred a little. "If you were a woman and I were married to you, which God forbid, no amount of space available on this globe, to separate us, would put me at ease. ...."

Okay, first of all, Wolfe just told Archie he was indispensable! <3 (Wolfe probably wouldn't have said this except that before the book starts Archie had to go away and be replaced by a stenographer + bodyguard, so he kind of already knows he's irreplaceable.)

But then, okay, the comment about "if you were a woman and if we were married!" I... I actually can't even parse this. Every clause is weirder than the next. Why say "God forbid" about something as impossible as being married to Archie? And then, the thing is, Archie is about as annoying as it's possible to be just as he is! How could he be WORSE for Wolfe's nerves if they were married? It's like, they already live together, they already eat meals together... I mean, I guess Wolfe wouldn't be able to order Wife!Archie to STFU, but then on the other hand, it's 1939, maybe he would! Also it's not like Regular!Archie ever listens when Wolfe orders him to shut up ANYWAY, so what exactly would the difference be? And then there's the part about "no amount of space available on this globe...." Why even bring that part up? "Basically our relationship is exactly like a husband/wife relationship. Except for the part where, when you go far away, I can relax. And I suspect I wouldn't feel that way if I were hypothetically married to a woman and *she* went away." What is that even supposed to mean? Is this some kind of reference to the fact that Archie *did* just go away for a while? Poor Wolfe, constantly beset with Crushing Archie Goodwin Sarcasm, and only free of it for short breaks, where he can relax and be at ease. <3

Chapter 3 also has one of Archie's first references to looking things up in the dictionary (and, specifically, using the dictionary to point out when Wolfe is equivocating or being hypocritical)...

".... Why did you steal it?"

"I borrowed it."

"You say. I've looked in the dictionary. ...."

Bee hee hee.

Also, when Wolfe is discussing whether or not Paul Chapin would hide Hibbard's body specifically so that Evelyn Hibbard wouldn't get the insurance money: "....even a delay in an enemy's good fortune is at least a minor pleasure. Worth such a finesse if you have it in you.

I always find this kind of thing significant, when Wolfe uses the first person to talk about what the killers did/said. Usually it's when he's doing the big charade reveal speech at the end-- "And then I picked up the thing and crushed his skull," etc.-- but, he does it here, too. He doesn't say "A man like Chapin might think it was worth such a finesse, if he had it in him--" no, this is Wolfe telling Archie, "I think it WOULD be worth it to do such a thing in this situation, if you had the backbone, or the ruthlessness. " Is this Wolfe being dramatic and romantic? Or does he mean it? A little of both, I think.

(There is more to come, but I'm not doing a post every three chapters, I swear!)

[liviapenn]

Chapter 4: Is this the only time Wolfe gets a group of people as clients for a single job and splits up the fee between them? There's "And Be A Villain" where his fee is split up between a radio network & some corporate sponsors, etc., but that's a little different. IMO, if this were one of the later books, rather than going through the trouble of tracking down the entire League and getting them all to sign on, Wolfe would just target the richest one and soak that guy enough to make the job worth his time. This whole "from each according to his ability (to pay)" setup is suspiciously communist anyway!

Del Bascom is in this chapter. Does he ever actually make an on-stage appearance in any other book? I don't think so, which doesn't really surprise me. There's not really a lot of places you can go with this character, and since he necessarily has to be Not A Genius, he's not very interesting, which is to say, not as much fun as some other characters who also only exist to provide info to Wolfe & Archie, like Lon Cohen (who hasn't shown up yet.)

From Chapter 5: Fritz was always happy and put on a little extra effort when he knew things were moving in the office. That night I passed him a wink when I saw how full the soup was of mushrooms, and when I tasted the tarragon in the salad dressing I threw him a kiss. He blushed. Wolfe frequently had compliments for his dishes and expressed them appropriately, and Fritz always blushed; and whenever I found occasion to toss him a tribute he blushed likewise, I'd swear to heaven, just to please me, not to let me down. I often wondered if Wolfe noticed it. His attention to food was so alert and comprehensive that I would have said off hand he didn't, but in making any kind of a guess about Wolfe offhand wasn’t good enough.

........... This is what makes the Nero Wolfe mysteries different than other mysteries, imo. There's a whole paragraph here about these complex familiar interactions-- Fritz knows Archie doesn't know the difference between great and excellent food, and Archie knows that Fritz knows (and also that Fritz pretends not to) but Archie doesn't know if *Wolfe* notices that Fritz pretends that Archie's compliments are just as good as Wolfe's. It has *zip* to do with the plot, it's not even part of any Wolfe-Archie relationship B-plot, it's just-- I think Rex Stout enjoyed writing about the brownstone residents as a family. (And I think that even if you didn't know that Rex Stout had a lot of siblings you could probably deduce it from paragraphs like these.)

Later when the League starts arriving: Archie gets defensive! "Tell me," he said, "is it true that Nero Wolfe was a eunuch in a Cairo harem and got his start in life by collecting testimonials from the girls for Pyramid Dental Cream?"

Like an ass, for half a second I was sore. "Listen," I said, "Nero Wolfe is exactly--" Then I stopped and laughed. "Sure," I said. "Except that he wasn't a eunuch, he was a camel."

Oh, *Archie*. Don't wear your heart on your sleeve like that! <3 It has struck me that in later books when Archie has to punch someone and it isn't for bodyguarding or self-defense purposes, most of the time it's because of an insult to Wolfe (whats-his-name the Nazi dude in "Over My Dead Body" who throws one of Wolfe's books on the floor, and the right-wing radio pundit in "The Second Confession" who says mean things about Wolfe on the air, are the examples I can think of... It's very romantic.)

When Archie grabs the gun away from Paul Chapin in the office: Wolfe said, "Confound you, Archie. You have deprived Mr. Chapin of the opportunity for a dramatic and effective gesture. ...." And then he even apologizes! Wolfe respects a talented dramatist. Maybe he just respects drama.

Blah blah things happen.

Chapter 8, near the end-- Archie does something for Evelyn Hibbard, similar to what he does for Anna Fiore at the end of FDL, where he gives her $1000 instead of the $100 back, presumably as a sort of silent apology for scaring her and roughing her up. In this bit, Wolfe is going to charge her $3000 and Archie tries to talk him down to $1000 and they settle on $2000. Of course in these earlier books you get more of a sense that Archie is just a big kid and works this job for the excitement and the drama, but later on he's like "it's expensive to run this house!!" and does less of this gentlemanly largesse type of thing.

Chapter 9-- Archie is REALLY rude to Saul! On the phone with him: I asked him what he wanted and he said he wanted to report. I asked him report what, and he said, nothing, just report. I was sore at everything anyway, so I got sarcastic. I said if he couldn't find Hibbard alive or dead, maybe he could rig up a dummy that would do. I said I had just got a smack in the eye on another angle of the case, and if he was no better than I was he'd better come on down to the office with a pinochle deck, and I hung up on him, which alone is enough to aggravate a nun. (Later on in Chapter 13 there's a Saul-description that is a little more like the usual thing: He, with his wrinkled little mug not causing any stranger to suspect how cute he was, and he could be pretty damn cute - he sat on the edge of a tapestry chair, smoking a big slick light-brown cigar that smelled like something they scatter on lawns in the early spring, and told me about it to date. Although that's still not quite our Saul, "cute" is definitely a compliment coming from Archie, as he says the same thing about Wolfe in Chapter 5 when Wolfe is presenting his plan to the League: Again heads nodded. He was easing them into it; he was sewing them up. I grinned to myself, "Boss, you're cute, that's all, you're just cute.")

[liviapenn]

-- Wolfe fooling around with Paul Chapin's Box of Creepy Fetish Objects: Wolfe fingered the gloves some more, and held up a stocking to look through it at the light. To see him handling female hosiery as if he understood it gave me a new insight into the extent of his pretensions. Ahahaha, Archie. You've thought about this some, then? Wolfe's experience with women?

Of course Archie is totally right, because just a second later Wolfe says, ".... for years Dora Chapin, then Ritter, was Mrs. Burton's personal maid, and that she still attends her, to do something to her hair, at least once a week." The sheer vagueness of that phrase "do something" is just lethally adorable coming from Wolfe, who is always technically exact in his vocabulary. What does Dora Chapin's job entail? What do women hire other women to do to their hair? Wolfe doesn't know! They do something. They do stuff! *G*

I think I pointed this out in one of my earlier squee posts, but yeah, this is the book where Archie talks about his fancy ostrich-skin wallet that was a birthday present from Wolfe? And it is the WEIRDEST and possibly most creepily significant segue of all time, because it comes up right after they paw through Paul Chapin's creepy fetish treasure box, and Wolfe calls it the box that Paul Chapin keeps his *soul* in. And Archie says: I had a nice piece of leather of my own, not as big as Paul Chapin's treasure box, but fancier. IE, when it comes to things we prize beyond measure, possibly even to a point other people would think creepy and wrong, Paul Chapin has his box of stockings and *I have this*.

........... *raises one eyebrow!*

Later in Chapter 13: Fritz and Archie once again have an interaction that wouldn't be inappropriate between a patient mom and a twelve-year-old boy: Fritz, sitting there reading the French paper, giggled at me: "You drink milk looking like that, you curdle it." I stuck my tongue out at him and went back to the office.

Near the end of 13, Wolfe notices something significant:

He stopped himself; and said in a different tone:

"Mr. Goodwin. Hand me the glass."

I gave it to him. His using my formal handle when we were alone meant that he was excited almost beyond control, but I had no idea what about.

......................I'm just not even gonna say anything about this except "I don't even KNOW, man."

Chapter 15: I had about as much hope of finding Hibbard as of getting a mash note from Greta Garbo ....

I only mention this because in the early 70s Greta Garbo DID WRITE a mash note to Archie, so there. :D

Chapter 16 features my nominee for "most unintentionally suggestive sentence in this book" -- Archie looking at Hibbard in the office after they've unmasked him -- To me he was the finest hunk of bacon I had lamped for several moons. AAAAAHHHHH.

-- Also, can I just say, Hibbard's Great Undercover Adventure is so Sherlock Holmes it hurts.

Chapter 17 features one of the weirder Rex Stout "women are aliens" moments, when Mrs. Burton says that Paul Chapin's *actual* intolerable deformity is that he's a man with feminine cunning.

Chapter 20-- Okay, so I totally just skipped over the OMG ARCHIE DRUGGED AND OMG CRYING part, but really, what is there to say about it. It is absolutely perfect in every way. What I love is Wolfe's recap afterwards, cool as the wrong side of the pillow: "You know my fondness for talking. It was an excellent opportunity. She was calm from the outset. She and I have much in common-- for instance, our dislike of perturbation. .... After I had explained the situation to her, we discussed it. The moment arrived when it seemed pointless to continue our conference in that cold, dark forbidding spot, and besides, I had learned what had happened to you. She seemed so uncertain as to what she had used to flavor your coffee that I thought it best to reach a telephone with as little delay as possible." Sure, no biggie, just talked it over.

I would love to see *this* scene expanded in fic, actually. Maybe even from Dora Chapin's POV. Mostly I'm curious, what *else* does Wolfe think that he has in common with Dora Chapin, besides not liking a lot of fuss? Ruthlessness, coupled with a broad streak of romanticism? What else?

I already commented on the last chapter in my comments above, and like I said, I kind of go back and forth as to whether it's more or less of a stereotype for Paul Chapin to not actually be the real killer, but I have to say I still think he's a pretty cool character (except for the creepy fetish box about which the less said the better) and a pretty awesome villain. Archie clearly thinks the idea of Wolfe getting killed in a book is hilarious, but I wonder what he actually thought when/if the book came out and he actually read it. I can see it really bothering him!

[dorinda]

I had two further details from this book that I wasn't sure where to mention...

Speaking of imaginary previous cases, Bascom refers to another one that happened about two years earlier: "Remember the clerk that didn't see the guy lifting the emeralds because he was sneezing?"--emeralds again! I suddenly wonder if these are the same emeralds that were involved in Fer de Lance's remembered car chase with "Young Graves". *g*

And, on an entirely different note, Archie gets irked at not currently being the Man! Of! Action!: "It seems as if I'm like a piece of antique furniture or a pedigreed dog, I'm in the luxury class. You keep me on for beauty."

I enjoy fan stories that pick up this issue, from both angles--Archie chafing when he starts to feel like a kept boy, but also Wolfe's desire to surround himself with beauty. In the back of my edition of Fer de Lance, they included a typed memo by Rex Stout from 1949, giving character descriptions of Wolfe and Archie, as well as descriptions of the ground floor of the brownstone, concentrating on the office. And it has the line, "Wolfe permits nothing to be in [the office] that he doesn't enjoy looking at, and that has been the only criterion for admission." Well, I ask you. *waves hands around*