Topper, a Ribald Adventure by Thorne Smith
1926
I chose something different for Halloween this year, a classic ghost story. I've seen the movies that came from this book series and a couple of the TV shows.
The first movie (with Carey Grant) was decent, but my favorite is "Topper Returns." A classic "old dark house" murder mystery movie.
The book was quite a bit different, as usual, although Joan Blondel's character in "Topper Returns" seems closer to the Marion Kerby from this story.
Topper is complacent, routine, and a bit of a milquetoast man. He's a banker and kowtows to just about everyone. His wife runs all over him and even tells him what his favorite food is.
Reading this, remember, it was published in 1926. Topper doesn't own a car and those in his community are still judgmental on them. Especially if you bought a second-hand car. *Gasp!*
George and Marion Kerby were married and living the fast, live free, die hard, loose life. Not letting anything get in the way of a good time, drinking and partying. Except a tree they ran into and killed them.
A year later, Topper buys their rebuilt car on a whim and learns to drive. Yearning for something but not quite sure what. He just knows something isn't right. He ends up meeting the ghosts of the Kerby's and hilarity and typical ghost-misunderstandings ensue.
Poor married Topper falls in love with this fast life with the dead and then falls in love with a dead woman.
He runs away from home, his job, his responsibilities, and finds himself.
If I had to give this book a tag line, it might be something along the lines of "He learned how to live from the dead."
The voice of this book was very much like the narration in Hitchhiker's guide to the Galaxy. That humor. And the Inn that Thorne Smith writes about, it feels too real. Too much detail. I'm convinced this is from a place he knows. By the end of the book, I found myself longing for this old abandoned Inn.
Chapter 8, Wayward Ghosts was about the loveliest of lines set to page. I reread it twice. The first few pages of that chapter. I don't know Thorne Smith, I have only a passing knowledge of the man. I know he died young. Less than 10 years after this publication. But there were sections of this book that I would hold up to Carlos Ruiz Zafón's "The Shadow of the Wind" which I consider to be the finest book I've ever read.
Sections, mind you, not the whole book.
I was not expecting this from this book. I walk away stunned but feeling grateful for the story.
And for the new friends.
Do yourself a favor, read this for yourself or with a book-club with open-minded folks, because you're going to want to talk about it.
And remember, it was published in **1926**. Phrases, meanings, and ideas were a tad different.