I had always thought of Frederic Brown as a science fiction writer, for that was how he was presented to me when I first discovered him in the Sixties. I was surprised later when I encountered others who had always thought of him as a mystery writer with a sideline in science fiction, which had gotten out of hand. It was not until the early Eighties that I came across re-issues of his collected short mystery fiction. Some of those stories from the Thirties and Forties seemed as dated as much fiction from that period, with outmoded social concepts, citations of forgotten radio shows or films, and references to people once household names but totally unknown now. But even the out-of-date stories scintillated with crisp dialogue, compelling narrative, and engrossing puzzles. In those stories, I discovered Frederic Brown a second time, this time a far edgier writer, one who walked on the noir side of the street, created grifters and gun molls, and employed a vocabulary steeped in violence and slang.
In a way, it’s harder these days to track down out-of-print books by a writer like Brown because of the decline of brick-and-mortar bookstores. On the other hand, the rise of small, specialized e-book publishers has brought many forgotten crime classics out of oblivion. Such is the case with “The Fabulous Clipjoint,” a book for which I searched a long time, without success, but finally found in a Kindle format. It’s importance is that it was the first appearance of the nephew/uncle detective team of Ed and Ambrose (Am) Hunter, a key volume in providing a context for all the books that came after.
Ed Hunter tells the story of “The Fabulous Clipjoint,” how his father, Wally, was murdered in a dark Chicago alley, an event devastating to Ed for many reasons, but which to his step-mother and step-sister was merely the end of a meal ticket. Shattered as only an eighteen year old can be, Ed travels to a far town to inform his father’s brother, Ambrose, whom he has not seen for a decade, mostly because he is disliked by his step-mother, disliked not just because he works at a traveling carnival but because he sees through her. To Ed’s surprise, Uncle Am leaves the carnival, accompanies him back to Chicago, and tells Ed they are going to solve Wally’s murder. And when Am tells him, “We are Hunters,” he understands the intended double meaning.
The goal of the characters, to find out who killed Wally, happens very late in the book and passes quickly, with startling abruptness. But the goal of the characters is not the purpose of the book, for Ed’s story is more about coming of age and finding out what he wants to do with his life, than it is about who killed his dad. In this, he is guided not only by an uncle well acquainted with the highs and lows of the world, but by friends and family whose masks are ripped away by death, by gangsters and gun molls looking for vengeance and riches, and by the ordinary riff-raff of society whose only goal is to survive from one moment to the next, at a profit, whether by helping people or betraying them.
Reading “The Fabulous Clipjoint,” you wonder why Frederic Brown ever bothered with science fiction. As with most things, it was probably an economic situation, for his crime writing is superb and extremely easy to read. True, some of the trappings of society have changed since the book was written, but if you’ve seen even one old gangster or detective film you know the clothes and the venue well enough. The slang may slow you down, but as with most languages context is usually sufficient for understanding, and, besides, carny slang is almost an academic study these days. All of the drawbacks of the book, however, are unimportant compared to the engaging narrative voice of young Ed Hunter and the masterful storytelling skill of Frederic Brown.