Perhaps Goodis’ most conventional novel, Of Missing Persons is a police procedural that boasts an authentic portrayal of a Missing Persons bureau. Much like the movie House on 92nd Street, where the FBI’s cooperation in the making of the film leads to the stentorian narrator’s glorification of that great institution, the cooperation of the LAPD in the writing of this book has resulted in a story that somewhat excessively sings the praises of the hard-working and underappreciated people who comprise the Missing Persons bureau.
The Goodis hero is always a man who has lost the stature and sense of purpose that once defined his existence, and these narratives follow that character’s trajectory back into the fold of life, sometimes finding such a resurgence possible, other times going full circle and ending up back in the despondent state of living death that he started out at. The second alternative becomes more typical of Goodis’ later (and frankly better) books, whereas his earlier books are more deliberately hopeful.
In Of Missing Persons, Goodis blends this familiar character arc into an apparently biographical sketch of the Christ-like figure that heads the Missing Persons bureau as he is publicly slandered by a rotten tabloid newspaper, criticized en masse by angry members of the public, and blackmailed by the higher-ups in his own department, all the while dedicating himself with an unhealthy devotion to his role as a public servant. The book features brief moments of second person, but not as much as in his later works, and by and large the writing doesn’t really stand out. The Third Man-like plot seems uninspired here, and it all leads to a surprisingly sentimental, pat happy ending that smacks of a Thank You note to the real Missing Persons bureau. All in all, my least favorite Goodis novel.