Review of “Body Language” and “Name Games”
BY Michael Craft
Four stars
I’m thinking about binge-reading the rest of the Mark Manning books by Michael Craft. Having finished the first four in the series, I’m going to review the second two together—what I think of as the start of the “Dumont” books, for the quiet Wisconsin town that becomes the setting for Mark’s life.
When Michael Craft began publishing the Mark Manning series in 1997, my husband and I were in the throes of being new fathers. There were no Kindles in the world, and I was also in the process of publishing my own first novel. Gay lit just got away from me.
But now, having survived my mid-life crisis because of the world of escape offered to me by my Kindle, and having largely survived the rigors of child-rearing, I am lucky enough to have stumbled across Michael Craft’s landmark series of gay journalist/detective novels featuring Mark Manning.
Mark is a bit of a prig. In fact, in his first book, “Flight Dreams,” he really pissed me off. It was very hard to like him. But I persevered, promised by the author himself that Mark got better. And, not surprisingly, I’ve grown quite fond of Mark. For all his affectations, and all of his irritating macho anxieties, he has become real to me. He’s still a bit stiff; something of a codger for a man only 42 (as of “Body Language,” published in 2000). Still a little too proud of being straight-acting for my taste.
And yet…
I realized, reading “Body Language,” that Mark is my age, calculating for the year of publication. And men my age have a very wide range of stories to tell. We were the first children of Stonewall—too young in the late 1960s to really know what was going on, or to understand fully the potential upside of being gay in a hostile world. Mark Manning and I had quite different paths in life, and I finally came to understand that I had to forgive him for not taking the same route I had taken to middle age. Mark Manning comes out at 39, whereas I became a father. Mark Manning finds love with a man at 39, while I stumbled into it at 20 and was marking two decades with my spouse by 39. Mark and I were both flying blind as children of the sixties. I have to forgive him for having a less direct road than I had.
“Body Language” finds Mark returning, literally and in his memories, to Dumont, Wisconsin, a small city (or, perhaps, big town) where his mother’s family were bigwigs. Having something of another mid-life crisis (career-driven, now that his sexuality is settled happily), Mark looks into moving back to a place he only visited once as a nine-year-old; but a place that nonetheless has an unaccountable hold over his memories for a number of reasons that are revealed to us as the story progresses.
One always has to let go of a certain demand for reality in reading murder mysteries, because the world of the detective (amateur or professional) is always far more fraught with incident and danger than our own worlds are. Mark’s adventures back in Dumont, from the unlikely reacquisition of a fully-furnished family mansion to a wonderfully tortured murder plot, are evocative of David Brandstetter’s in Los Angeles a generation earlier. One reads avidly, waiting to find out what will happen next; how will our hero figure out the solution to the crime in time to prevent the worst from happening? How will the other characters be affected by the events of the story?
But Michael Craft gives us a great deal more. Each book, so far, has stood fairly well alone—because Craft is adept at providing enough backstory to make the whole picture logical for the reader. That said, it is only through reading all of the books in order, as I’m discovering, that we begin to see Manning’s background details filled in, line by line, color by color, to present us with a rich, finely detailed picture against which Manning’s quirky personality stands out in high relief.
“Body Language” focuses on Mark’s childhood memories from his long-ago visit to his Uncle Edwin’s Prairie-School style mansion in Dumont—memories that are happy ones in spite of the unknown sorrows the novel uncovers. The thirty-three year gap between his visit and his return have been filled with twists and turns, and Mark has to untangle them, not only to solve the murder, but to build a new life and understand himself better. “Name Games” carries on that leitmotif, drawing on Mark’s hidden memories from his closeted years as a young journalist, memories that finally help him recognize the key to the mystery at hand. He finds himself pulled all the way into local politics and, rather marvelously, into the world of high-end miniaturists—people who obsess about tiny rooms filled with tiny things.
And all along, we have Mark Manning’s “Greek chorus.” There’s his old friend Roxanne Exner, power lawyer and femme fatale (I am still forgiving her for what happens in book one, “Flight Dreams”). And, of course, there’s Neil Waite, the rather younger, always out and proud architect, who finally forced Mark to recognize where his heart really lay. Neil shared the center of the first book with Mark; but in the subsequent books he is the moon to Mark’s earth: orbiting closely, but never entirely the center of attention. Neil’s gravity influences Mark in important ways, but it is Mark’s life that causes Neil to change his life. This could be problematic, but Craft is careful to give Neil full agency over his own actions, making Neil the stronger of the two men, even though he is inevitably (narratively speaking) second fiddle to his older partner.
The stealthy richness of Craft’s storytelling is in all of the other secondary characters, who quickly become important to the reader’s appreciation of both plot and setting. Doug Pierce, the handsome middle-aged sherriff of Dumont; Thad Quatrain, the angry teenager struggling to find his place in a traumatized family; Miriam Westerman, aging hippy and bellicose feminist, who has more axes to grind than a medieval armorer. These and other characters (for even those that appear but briefly are carefully rendered), create the necessary plot confusion and provide a savory broth for a greatly satisfying tale.
If book one centered on coming out, and book two dealt with fidelity and monogamy; the third and fourth books deal with notions of family and parenthood that rock Mark’s world while casting ever brighter light on his psyche and personality. While first and foremost murder mysteries of fascinating complexity, these books are also object lessons in the shifting dynamics of what it is to be gay in America. As I read through them, completely caught up in plot, I was also, in the back of my mind, seeing surprising echoes of my own life story—with different details and, obviously, with murders and other traumas I never experienced.
In the end, Mark Manning’s character may appeal more to men of a certain age (i.e. the author’s and my age) than to younger readers. But that is a minor caveat, and I hope younger folks will read these books, because the point of a good murder mystery is the mystery, while the character development (as with Hansen’s David Brandstetter, as with Thornton Marshall’s Nick Nowack) is a bonus that only the most thoughtful and gifted writers can offer us.
I have three more of Mark and Neil’s adventures to read. I think I’ll read them right through and let you know how things go.