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Travis McGee #16
The Dreadful Lemon Sky
From a beloved master of crime fiction, The Dreadful Lemon Sky is one of many classic novels featuring Travis McGee, the hard-boiled detective who lives on a houseboat.
Around four in the morning, Travis McGee is jarred awake by a breathless ghost from his past: an old flame who needs a place to stash a package full of cash. What’s in it for McGee? Ten grand and no questions asked. Two weeks later, she’s dead.
“The Travis McGee novels are among the finest works of fiction ever penned by an American author.”—Jonathan Kellerman
Carolyn Milligan was only aboard McGee’s boat for one night. She came to drop off a hundred grand for safekeeping. What Carrie really needed was someone to keep her safe. She said she’d be back in a month. Instead Carrie is killed in a dubious roadside accident. Now McGee is left with a fortune—and a nagging conscience.
So McGee takes a trip to the seedy little town of Bayside, Florida, to look into Carrie’s life before she showed up on his boat. What McGee finds only pushes him further into the corrupt world of drugs and blood that Carrie was trying to escape. McGee is used to high stakes, but when the bodies start piling up, even he may be in over his head.
Around four in the morning, Travis McGee is jarred awake by a breathless ghost from his past: an old flame who needs a place to stash a package full of cash. What’s in it for McGee? Ten grand and no questions asked. Two weeks later, she’s dead.
“The Travis McGee novels are among the finest works of fiction ever penned by an American author.”—Jonathan Kellerman
Carolyn Milligan was only aboard McGee’s boat for one night. She came to drop off a hundred grand for safekeeping. What Carrie really needed was someone to keep her safe. She said she’d be back in a month. Instead Carrie is killed in a dubious roadside accident. Now McGee is left with a fortune—and a nagging conscience.
So McGee takes a trip to the seedy little town of Bayside, Florida, to look into Carrie’s life before she showed up on his boat. What McGee finds only pushes him further into the corrupt world of drugs and blood that Carrie was trying to escape. McGee is used to high stakes, but when the bodies start piling up, even he may be in over his head.
272 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1974
445 people are currently reading
1321 people want to read
About the author
John D. MacDonald
567 books1,375 followersJohn D. MacDonald was born in Sharon, Pennsylvania, and educated at the Universities of Pennsylvania, Syracuse and Harvard, where he took an MBA in 1939. During WW2, he rose to the rank of Colonel, and while serving in the Army and in the Far East, sent a short story to his wife for sale, successfully. He served in the Office of Strategic Services (O.S.S.) in the China-Burma-India Theater of Operations. After the war, he decided to try writing for a year, to see if he could make a living. Over 500 short stories and 70 novels resulted, including 21 Travis McGee novels.
Following complications of an earlier heart bypass operation, MacDonald slipped into a coma on December 10 and died at age 70, on December 28, 1986, in St. Mary's Hospital in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He was survived by his wife Dorothy (1911-1989) and a son, Maynard.
In the years since his death MacDonald has been praised by authors as diverse as Stephen King, Spider Robinson, Jimmy Buffett, Kingsley Amis and Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.. Thirty-three years after his passing the Travis McGee novels are still in print.
Following complications of an earlier heart bypass operation, MacDonald slipped into a coma on December 10 and died at age 70, on December 28, 1986, in St. Mary's Hospital in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He was survived by his wife Dorothy (1911-1989) and a son, Maynard.
In the years since his death MacDonald has been praised by authors as diverse as Stephen King, Spider Robinson, Jimmy Buffett, Kingsley Amis and Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.. Thirty-three years after his passing the Travis McGee novels are still in print.
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October 13, 2018
“He captured the mood and the spirit of the times more accurately, more hauntingly, than any ‘literature’ writer — yet managed always to tell a thunderingly good, intensely suspenseful tale.” — Dean Koontz
“A writer way ahead of his time, his Travis McGee books are as entertaining, insightful, and suspenseful today as the moment I first read them. He is the all-time master of the American mystery novel.” — John Saul
John D. MacDonald, whose Travis McGee series became, as Robert B. Parker pointed out, one of the great sagas in American mystery fiction, and about whom Mary Higgins Clark wrote, “Talk about the Best” penned The Dreadful Lemon Sky near the middle of the 1970s. It remains one of the better entries in a series littered with memorable reads. A rather protracted confrontation near the end of the book keeps it from being in the very top tier of the series for me, but it’s just a tick below them — meaning it’s almost assuredly better than just about everything else out there. This one is actually a much more complex mystery than most in the series, which is why some rank it even higher in the canon.
It begins at four o’clock in the morning, when McGee’s warning system alerts him that someone has stepped onto The Busted Flush. It turns out to be Carrie Milligan, a young woman from McGee’s past. McGee had stepped in and prevented her from being raped at a boat party on the Alabama Tiger several years before. That same evening they had their one and only intimate coupling. Carrie was very shaken by the ordeal, what might have happened, but McGee does not attempt to take advantage of her. While McGee is portrayed as somewhat surprised by what eventually did happen that night so long ago, it is clear that MacDonald understood the psychology of the moment, the instant intimacy and trust such a saving act might have on the one rescued. It is only when MacDonald the writer has his creation recall those events in his thoughts, that McGee, who had made no lecherous moves after rescuing the girl, nor had he planned any, gets a glimmer of understanding:
“It was a very gentle time, and very sweet in a strange way. In body language she was saying, This is the way it should be. And I was saying, Replace that memory with This one.”
Unfortunately for McGee, the romantic episode was isolated, and he became someone Carrie looked up to and trusted to advise her. McGee even loaned her the use of his boat for her honeymoon — someone long gone now, and a mistake on Carrie’s part. His residual affection for her, however, makes McGee’s later actions in the novel understandable. It also reveals how forward-thinking MacDonald could be, rather than the sexist lout his tarnished hero is so often made out to be:
“They lead the singles life. Lots of laughs and lots of barren mornings. Skilled sex, mod conversation, They are not ardent libbers, yet at the same time they are not looking for some man to ‘take care.’ God knows they are expert in taking care of themselves. They just want a grown-up man to share their life with, each of them taking care. But there are one hell of a lot more grown-up ladies than grown-up men.” — McGee, thinking about Carrie and her romantic disappointments
But now Carrie is here, in the wee hours of morning, and she’s got ninety-four grand-and-change she wants McGee to hold for her until she returns — no questions asked. Well, of course McGee does, and of course Carrie doesn’t return because she can’t. McGee is going to give the money to her sister, Susan, but before that happens he and Meyer must discover if Carrie’s death in Bayside was actually an accident. It will lead to one of the most complex mysteries in the series, involving unrequited love, drug smuggling, and a lawyer and potential politician who likes to lift up every skirt he comes across. Freddie Van Harn in fact, is everything McGee is unfairly portrayed as by some, only on steroids.
Taking the Flush down to Bayside, McGee works out several stories which become fluid as he pokes around, trying to remain plausible as he looks into Carrie’s murder, which everyone has accepted was an accident. First McGee runs across Cindy Birdsong at the marina. Her husband Cal is a brute of a man whom McGee instantly notes by his movements, even while drunk, is someone more than a little formidable. Drunk, Cal slaps his wife, and McGee, who has never met these people, and has no idea what he’s stepping into, or how it will affect whatever tack he takes while looking into Carrie’s death, hesitates to become involved. McGee’s atypical hesitancy to play hero on this occasion proves warranted when he’s barely holding his own against Cal, and is saved by the cops. They’ve been following Cal’s trail of drunken violence all night, which includes a pizza guy’s broken arm, and three truckers in the hospital, beaten senseless by Cal. McGee doesn’t press charges because Cindy Birdsong asks him not to, even thanks him later.
McGee uses his wiles to discover that Jack Omaha and his partner Harry were having affairs with the help — the help being Carrie and Joanna. Omaha apparently cleaned out the building supply business before disappearing and that may or may not be where Carrie got all that cash. So McGee pokes around some more. It doesn’t go much better with Chris Omaha. Freddie is dipping into those waters already — and just about all the water in town, willing or not — and he doesn’t want her talking to McGee. Chris has already revealed herself to McGee as uncaring, and later in the book is described by Joanna as dumb, loud, greedy, and rotten to both Jack Omaha and the kids. When Freddie smacks her in front of McGee, who has conned his way into her home, McGee at first thinks Freddie has shot her. He’s relieved to discover Freddie only slapped her. Though McGee doesn’t like it much, and tries to taunt Freddie into making a move, McGee has to consider how his actions will affect his own cover story. Because it doesn’t come to that, it is still far from McGee — or MacDonald as a writer — condoning these actions. It’s a story, and there is far more going on here than meets the eye, as is borne out later.
When Carrie’s sister Susan enters the picture, she is confused and numb. In kindness, McGee offers to see what the deal is with the staggering funeral home bill. Once he realizes the director is attempting to take advantage of Susan’s grief, he returns to Susan who is sitting outside, and tells her exactly what the guy said. In essence, it empowers Susan and she is the one who goes back inside and sets things right. McGee was being a decent guy, not demeaning her, for heaven’s sake. She is in grief, still stunned at the sudden loss of her sister in the story. Even after she puts the funeral director in his place, she acknowledges how she managed it:
“I was pretending I was Carrie and it was me who was dead. She’d never let him take advantage. I was just so confused when he gave me the bill before.”
Joanna become friends with Meyer and McGee as they delve into Carrie’s death, but not before Joanna makes a play for McGee, and makes the mistake of asking him if there’s more than one reason to become intimate with someone. His response:
“The biggest and most important reason in the world is to be together with someone in a way that makes life a little less bleak and solitary and lonesome. To exchange the I for the We. In the biggest sense of the word, it’s cold outside. And kindness and affection and gentleness build a nice warm fire inside. That’s okay. But if you want to set some new international screwing record, or if you want to show off the busiest fastest hips in town, forget it.”
It’s almost startling how often McGee declines overtures from the opposite sex in this series, and yet you so rarely read about those instances in reviews. Hmmm. Here Joanna becomes friends only, at least for a time. But a lot happens in this one, and there is eventually a pretty high body count. The story is very complex, delving into the ins-and-outs of the traffic, and the morality surrounding the quick buck to be had by doing so. Then there is the question of who took the money, not to mention an investigator who realizes right off the bat, that McGee and Meyer have ulterior motives for being in Bayside which doesn’t coincide with any story they’ve told — to anyone. The Busted Flush takes some heavy damage in this one, as does McGee. A violent and slightly too protracted conclusion is followed by an even more violent but much more succinctly written anti-climax.
There is a romance of sorts here between McGee and someone, and their coupling will eventually take on a rich and mature hue. McGee is damaged externally, the woman damaged internally. It will in fact be McGee who wants to continue the affair. The woman, however, needs more time, because she has discovered things about herself of which she’d formerly been unaware. There is a realness to her reasons filled with MacDonald’s unspoken psychological understanding:
“Guilt is the most merciless disease of man. It stains all the other areas of living. It darkens all skies.” — McGee
On a lighter note, we get McGee’s take on why he doesn’t do pot, and why music should be ‘over there’ instead of all around you, and we get to hear Meyer’s hilarious reasons for not jogging. So it isn’t all darkness, but there is a more serious shading to this one which resonates with the reader. It’s probably a 4.5 for me, but I’ll round up. A fabulous mystery this time out for McGee, with a story so dense and complex, so humanistically shaded, that it almost masks how much violence there is in Dreadful Lemon Sky. Highly recommended!
“A writer way ahead of his time, his Travis McGee books are as entertaining, insightful, and suspenseful today as the moment I first read them. He is the all-time master of the American mystery novel.” — John Saul
John D. MacDonald, whose Travis McGee series became, as Robert B. Parker pointed out, one of the great sagas in American mystery fiction, and about whom Mary Higgins Clark wrote, “Talk about the Best” penned The Dreadful Lemon Sky near the middle of the 1970s. It remains one of the better entries in a series littered with memorable reads. A rather protracted confrontation near the end of the book keeps it from being in the very top tier of the series for me, but it’s just a tick below them — meaning it’s almost assuredly better than just about everything else out there. This one is actually a much more complex mystery than most in the series, which is why some rank it even higher in the canon.
It begins at four o’clock in the morning, when McGee’s warning system alerts him that someone has stepped onto The Busted Flush. It turns out to be Carrie Milligan, a young woman from McGee’s past. McGee had stepped in and prevented her from being raped at a boat party on the Alabama Tiger several years before. That same evening they had their one and only intimate coupling. Carrie was very shaken by the ordeal, what might have happened, but McGee does not attempt to take advantage of her. While McGee is portrayed as somewhat surprised by what eventually did happen that night so long ago, it is clear that MacDonald understood the psychology of the moment, the instant intimacy and trust such a saving act might have on the one rescued. It is only when MacDonald the writer has his creation recall those events in his thoughts, that McGee, who had made no lecherous moves after rescuing the girl, nor had he planned any, gets a glimmer of understanding:
“It was a very gentle time, and very sweet in a strange way. In body language she was saying, This is the way it should be. And I was saying, Replace that memory with This one.”
Unfortunately for McGee, the romantic episode was isolated, and he became someone Carrie looked up to and trusted to advise her. McGee even loaned her the use of his boat for her honeymoon — someone long gone now, and a mistake on Carrie’s part. His residual affection for her, however, makes McGee’s later actions in the novel understandable. It also reveals how forward-thinking MacDonald could be, rather than the sexist lout his tarnished hero is so often made out to be:
“They lead the singles life. Lots of laughs and lots of barren mornings. Skilled sex, mod conversation, They are not ardent libbers, yet at the same time they are not looking for some man to ‘take care.’ God knows they are expert in taking care of themselves. They just want a grown-up man to share their life with, each of them taking care. But there are one hell of a lot more grown-up ladies than grown-up men.” — McGee, thinking about Carrie and her romantic disappointments
But now Carrie is here, in the wee hours of morning, and she’s got ninety-four grand-and-change she wants McGee to hold for her until she returns — no questions asked. Well, of course McGee does, and of course Carrie doesn’t return because she can’t. McGee is going to give the money to her sister, Susan, but before that happens he and Meyer must discover if Carrie’s death in Bayside was actually an accident. It will lead to one of the most complex mysteries in the series, involving unrequited love, drug smuggling, and a lawyer and potential politician who likes to lift up every skirt he comes across. Freddie Van Harn in fact, is everything McGee is unfairly portrayed as by some, only on steroids.
Taking the Flush down to Bayside, McGee works out several stories which become fluid as he pokes around, trying to remain plausible as he looks into Carrie’s murder, which everyone has accepted was an accident. First McGee runs across Cindy Birdsong at the marina. Her husband Cal is a brute of a man whom McGee instantly notes by his movements, even while drunk, is someone more than a little formidable. Drunk, Cal slaps his wife, and McGee, who has never met these people, and has no idea what he’s stepping into, or how it will affect whatever tack he takes while looking into Carrie’s death, hesitates to become involved. McGee’s atypical hesitancy to play hero on this occasion proves warranted when he’s barely holding his own against Cal, and is saved by the cops. They’ve been following Cal’s trail of drunken violence all night, which includes a pizza guy’s broken arm, and three truckers in the hospital, beaten senseless by Cal. McGee doesn’t press charges because Cindy Birdsong asks him not to, even thanks him later.
McGee uses his wiles to discover that Jack Omaha and his partner Harry were having affairs with the help — the help being Carrie and Joanna. Omaha apparently cleaned out the building supply business before disappearing and that may or may not be where Carrie got all that cash. So McGee pokes around some more. It doesn’t go much better with Chris Omaha. Freddie is dipping into those waters already — and just about all the water in town, willing or not — and he doesn’t want her talking to McGee. Chris has already revealed herself to McGee as uncaring, and later in the book is described by Joanna as dumb, loud, greedy, and rotten to both Jack Omaha and the kids. When Freddie smacks her in front of McGee, who has conned his way into her home, McGee at first thinks Freddie has shot her. He’s relieved to discover Freddie only slapped her. Though McGee doesn’t like it much, and tries to taunt Freddie into making a move, McGee has to consider how his actions will affect his own cover story. Because it doesn’t come to that, it is still far from McGee — or MacDonald as a writer — condoning these actions. It’s a story, and there is far more going on here than meets the eye, as is borne out later.
When Carrie’s sister Susan enters the picture, she is confused and numb. In kindness, McGee offers to see what the deal is with the staggering funeral home bill. Once he realizes the director is attempting to take advantage of Susan’s grief, he returns to Susan who is sitting outside, and tells her exactly what the guy said. In essence, it empowers Susan and she is the one who goes back inside and sets things right. McGee was being a decent guy, not demeaning her, for heaven’s sake. She is in grief, still stunned at the sudden loss of her sister in the story. Even after she puts the funeral director in his place, she acknowledges how she managed it:
“I was pretending I was Carrie and it was me who was dead. She’d never let him take advantage. I was just so confused when he gave me the bill before.”
Joanna become friends with Meyer and McGee as they delve into Carrie’s death, but not before Joanna makes a play for McGee, and makes the mistake of asking him if there’s more than one reason to become intimate with someone. His response:
“The biggest and most important reason in the world is to be together with someone in a way that makes life a little less bleak and solitary and lonesome. To exchange the I for the We. In the biggest sense of the word, it’s cold outside. And kindness and affection and gentleness build a nice warm fire inside. That’s okay. But if you want to set some new international screwing record, or if you want to show off the busiest fastest hips in town, forget it.”
It’s almost startling how often McGee declines overtures from the opposite sex in this series, and yet you so rarely read about those instances in reviews. Hmmm. Here Joanna becomes friends only, at least for a time. But a lot happens in this one, and there is eventually a pretty high body count. The story is very complex, delving into the ins-and-outs of the traffic, and the morality surrounding the quick buck to be had by doing so. Then there is the question of who took the money, not to mention an investigator who realizes right off the bat, that McGee and Meyer have ulterior motives for being in Bayside which doesn’t coincide with any story they’ve told — to anyone. The Busted Flush takes some heavy damage in this one, as does McGee. A violent and slightly too protracted conclusion is followed by an even more violent but much more succinctly written anti-climax.
There is a romance of sorts here between McGee and someone, and their coupling will eventually take on a rich and mature hue. McGee is damaged externally, the woman damaged internally. It will in fact be McGee who wants to continue the affair. The woman, however, needs more time, because she has discovered things about herself of which she’d formerly been unaware. There is a realness to her reasons filled with MacDonald’s unspoken psychological understanding:
“Guilt is the most merciless disease of man. It stains all the other areas of living. It darkens all skies.” — McGee
On a lighter note, we get McGee’s take on why he doesn’t do pot, and why music should be ‘over there’ instead of all around you, and we get to hear Meyer’s hilarious reasons for not jogging. So it isn’t all darkness, but there is a more serious shading to this one which resonates with the reader. It’s probably a 4.5 for me, but I’ll round up. A fabulous mystery this time out for McGee, with a story so dense and complex, so humanistically shaded, that it almost masks how much violence there is in Dreadful Lemon Sky. Highly recommended!
October 6, 2022
You can't see me right now (well, I hope you can't see me right now), but I'm looking pretty goofy.
Goofy. Smiling. Overjoyed to write this particular reading response.
You see. . . I hadn't read a Travis McGee novel since I was in my late teens, and when I was in my teens, I'm quite sure I read them all. Or most of them.
I hadn't really planned on rereading any of them, but then my kid brother arrived in August to help us move across the country, and he had a small stack of “Travis McGees” on his person (that's what he calls them). Every time he had a little downtime from my moving demands, I'd find him curled up in a comfortable ball, chuckling, one of these skinny novels, with their “oh-so-seventies” covers in his hands.
My memories of this series were vague. If I had to summarize them quickly I'd have said that I remembered a Florida setting, a womanizing detective, and a lot of eye candy in bikinis.
As I've already mentioned, I had no plans to reread any of them, but my brother seemed so smug behind those covers (he should have been taping up boxes, anyway!), and here I was, involved in a seventies reading project, no less.
If you can believe it, my siblings and I grew up about 20 minutes from where Travis McGee lives on his boat. My high school's after-prom party was actually held right at the Bahia Mar, and I could have squinted my eyes that night, looked out onto the sea of docked boats and imagined which one might have been his.
The nostalgia of moving and reminiscing with my brother finally brought me to my breaking point, and I selected a “Travis McGee” from 1974: the year my brother was born. Seemed only fitting.
By page 21, I had the most ridiculous smile plastered to my face:
A late-afternoon breeze riffled the water out beyond the lazy breakers and hustled some candy wrappers down the wet brown beach. Two tall young ladies came sauntering by, brown, brawny, and bikinied, as confident and at home in their bodies as a pair of young lionesses, their hair sun-streaked and salt-tangled, their hips rolling and canting to the slow cadence of their long walk in the sunshine
There I was, back in the Sunshine State.
Okay, so my memory about some eye candy on the beach was proven accurate a few times, and Florida is definitely a main character here, but where I was so wrong was about Travis McGee himself.
He's no womanizer, y'all. It's just that he's irresistible to women!
Good Lord, did John D. MacDonald have a good time with his alter ego, writing about a man whose large hands, feet and wrists are mentioned so many damn times, you just KNOW that he's hung like a horse. I mean, how can you expect this man to do anything but have sex with every woman he rescues? It would seem practically classist of him to deny a penniless woman the right to reward him with sexual favors, since she can't very well pay him with money.
So, you roll your eyes occasionally, because it's well, just silly how hot, massive and tempting he is, but he, my friends, is a SAINT when it comes to the ladies. Just a grown up Boy Scout, not a womanizer!
But, here's what my adult self has decided is so great about Travis McGee: he is impossible to predict.
And I loved it. I loved this about him.
One minute he's groaning like an old geezer about rising gas prices, the next minute he's pleasuring a lady, after that he's kung fu fighting, some bad guys in powder blue suits.
He's also funny. Not consistently, though. He's unpredictably funny, which is even better. What I snorted and chuckled about the most: his complaints about the Florida heat (been there, done that, would never do it again).
Reading this book was like sitting in a comfortable chair on an empty beach at sunset, eating an entire key lime pie with a large spoon, while having a well-hung detective squirt whipped cream, intermittently, into my mouth.
Goofy. Smiling. Overjoyed to write this particular reading response.
You see. . . I hadn't read a Travis McGee novel since I was in my late teens, and when I was in my teens, I'm quite sure I read them all. Or most of them.
I hadn't really planned on rereading any of them, but then my kid brother arrived in August to help us move across the country, and he had a small stack of “Travis McGees” on his person (that's what he calls them). Every time he had a little downtime from my moving demands, I'd find him curled up in a comfortable ball, chuckling, one of these skinny novels, with their “oh-so-seventies” covers in his hands.
My memories of this series were vague. If I had to summarize them quickly I'd have said that I remembered a Florida setting, a womanizing detective, and a lot of eye candy in bikinis.
As I've already mentioned, I had no plans to reread any of them, but my brother seemed so smug behind those covers (he should have been taping up boxes, anyway!), and here I was, involved in a seventies reading project, no less.
If you can believe it, my siblings and I grew up about 20 minutes from where Travis McGee lives on his boat. My high school's after-prom party was actually held right at the Bahia Mar, and I could have squinted my eyes that night, looked out onto the sea of docked boats and imagined which one might have been his.
The nostalgia of moving and reminiscing with my brother finally brought me to my breaking point, and I selected a “Travis McGee” from 1974: the year my brother was born. Seemed only fitting.
By page 21, I had the most ridiculous smile plastered to my face:
A late-afternoon breeze riffled the water out beyond the lazy breakers and hustled some candy wrappers down the wet brown beach. Two tall young ladies came sauntering by, brown, brawny, and bikinied, as confident and at home in their bodies as a pair of young lionesses, their hair sun-streaked and salt-tangled, their hips rolling and canting to the slow cadence of their long walk in the sunshine
There I was, back in the Sunshine State.
Okay, so my memory about some eye candy on the beach was proven accurate a few times, and Florida is definitely a main character here, but where I was so wrong was about Travis McGee himself.
He's no womanizer, y'all. It's just that he's irresistible to women!
Good Lord, did John D. MacDonald have a good time with his alter ego, writing about a man whose large hands, feet and wrists are mentioned so many damn times, you just KNOW that he's hung like a horse. I mean, how can you expect this man to do anything but have sex with every woman he rescues? It would seem practically classist of him to deny a penniless woman the right to reward him with sexual favors, since she can't very well pay him with money.
So, you roll your eyes occasionally, because it's well, just silly how hot, massive and tempting he is, but he, my friends, is a SAINT when it comes to the ladies. Just a grown up Boy Scout, not a womanizer!
But, here's what my adult self has decided is so great about Travis McGee: he is impossible to predict.
And I loved it. I loved this about him.
One minute he's groaning like an old geezer about rising gas prices, the next minute he's pleasuring a lady, after that he's kung fu fighting, some bad guys in powder blue suits.
He's also funny. Not consistently, though. He's unpredictably funny, which is even better. What I snorted and chuckled about the most: his complaints about the Florida heat (been there, done that, would never do it again).
Reading this book was like sitting in a comfortable chair on an empty beach at sunset, eating an entire key lime pie with a large spoon, while having a well-hung detective squirt whipped cream, intermittently, into my mouth.
April 21, 2018
Spring is finally here and it's time to work on my tan. John D. MacDonald published twenty-one Travis McGee mysteries (between 1964 and 1984) narrated by his weary "salvage consultant" who often agrees to locate missing persons or items, 52-foot houseboat The Busted Flush docked in Fort Lauderdale serving as McGee's office. MacDonald was one of the earliest authors to use themed titles for their series and his brilliant use of color not only offered a visual motif to help readers distinguish each one, but generated some of my favorite titles: Nightmare In Pink, The Quick Red Fox, Darker Than Amber, etc.
Next up is The Dreadful Lemon Sky. Published in 1974, this is a terrific detective thriller that loiters between some familiar markers, but allows the MacDonald to share his guardedly pessimistic world view and magazine knowledge of all things from sailing to ballistics to cocktail dip. Travis McGee is asleep aboard his houseboat when his alarm bell alerts him to a visitor. She is Carrie Milligan, nee Dobrovsky, who McGee knew six years ago when she worked for Peerless Marine and was a party fixture who McGee rescued from a frat boat rapist and spent one night with. Carrie opens a box packed with $94,200 cash for McGee to hold, $10,000 for his troubles, and no questions asked.
McGee hides the stash in the flooded double hull and while Carrie takes a much needed bath and sleeps off whatever she's running from, her host inspects the contents of her purse and car. He discovers little more than that Carrie now works for Superior Building Supplies in Bayside, has some industrial abrasive in her trunk and in spite of her paranoia that he keeps the lights on The Busted Flush turned off, no one suspicious lurking around the Bahia Mar Marina at four in the morning. Seeking someone to corroborate his version of events in case the law moves in, McGee seeks out his friend Meyer, an acerbic retired economist, on the beach to discuss.
Meyer was curious about the money, so I described the stacks to him, each neatly tied with a white cotton string, each of mixed denominations, each totaling ten thousand. And, of course there were the loose bills, probably from a broken stack, which could mean that she had spent fifty-eight hundred. Each stack had an adding-machine tape stuffed under the string. Yes, all apparently from the same machine, but I hadn't examined them closely. It was used money, but reasonably clean and tidy. Under black light, it might fluoresce. Or somebody might have a list of serial numbers. Or it could all be funny money, printed in a small room by night.
Eager to be on her way, Carrie asks McGee give her money to her sister should anything happen to her. Two weeks later, Meyer shares a newspaper clipping that reports Carolyn Milligan was struck dead while walking on a road in Bayside. Needing to do nothing more than deliver the stash to Susie Dobrovsky, McGee seeks to assure himself that the money comes with no strings attached. Sailing The Busted Flush up the coast to Bayside with Meyer along for the trip, McGee reserves a slip at a marina that earns his approval, operated by an able young man with a Jesus face named Jason Breen and managed by a stoic, tall and tan woman with a wedding ring named Cindy Birdsong.
Cindy's sideways husband Cal bursts into the office, pops his wife in the lip and comes at McGee. Two cops subdue the drunk and take him to jail for the trail of destruction he's left behind in town over the last several hours. McGee rents an AMC Gremlin with busted A/C and visits Superior Building Supplies, where a saucy, ginger haired file clerk named Joanna Freeler and office manager Harry Hascomb are busy conducting inventory for a going out of business sale, owner Jack Omaha having secretly sold off the warehouse stock at less than cost and disappeared. McGee visits Omaha's home and finds the missing man's wife getting friendly with a tall, slender lawyer named Freddy Van Harn.
McGee's investigation leads him to an exclusive apartment building where Carrie lived. He discovers she was mixed up in a marijuana smuggling operation with her boss Jack Omaha, whose boat made pickups in the Gulf with the help of Cal Birdsong, with packages air dropped by Freddy Van Harn, piloting his own Cessna. Van Harn would appear to have no need for such risks, marrying up into a ranching family and whose future father-in-law has promised to get Van Harn elected to state legislature. The only problem is that all of Van Harn's drug running partners have mysteriously disappeared or been killed lately. McGee keeps digging, putting his own health at risk.
Suddenly, I thought of one slim chance. If I couldn't make it work, I was going to be no worse off. I was going to be dead. And if I didn't try it, I was going to be dead. A mockingbird flew over, singing on the wing, a melody so beautifully sweet it pinched my heart. I do not want to leave the world of mockingbirds, boats, beaches, ladies, love, and peanut butter from Deaf Smith County. Especially do I not want to leave it at the hands of a fool, at the hands of this Van Harn who thought he could wipe out an event by killing anybody who knew anything about it. It has been tried. It never works. Any lawyer should know that.
With The Dreadful Lemon Sky, John D. MacDonald does click multiple boxes for the business traveler or beachcomber looking for escapist detective fare. Here we have the young girl mixed up in a caper, a box o' cash, a houseboat, lowlifes, an attorney criminal, women with tans, long legs and brains, and a dogged beach bum with nothing but time and an inquisitive mind. What I enjoy so much about the Travis McGee series--when MacDonald brings the quality control--are the keys to modern living wrapped in the often bemused, sometimes bummed philosophies of a Korean War veteran in the 1970s, surrounded by credit cards, pills, free love and easy living that seems anything but easy. Instead of barreling the reader down a plot, MacDonald stops to think.
At drinking time I left Meyer at the wheel and went below and broke out the very last bottle of the Plymouth gin which had been bottled in the United Kingdom. All the others were bottled in the U.S. It isn't the same. It's still a pretty good gin but it is not a superb, stingingly dry, and lovely gin. The sailor on the label no longer looks staunch and forthright, but merely hokey. There is something self-destructive about Western technology and distribution. Whenever any consumer object is so excellent that it attracts a devoted following, some of the slide rule and computer types come in on their twinkle toes and take over the store , and in a trice they figure out just how far they can cut quality and still increase market penetration. Their reasoning is that is it idiotic to make and sell a hundred thousand units of something and make a profit of thirty cents a unit, when you can increase the advertising, sell five million units, and make a nickel a profit a unit. Thus the very good things of the world go down the drain, from honest turkey to honest eggs to honest tomatoes. And gin.
The sixteenth novel in the Travis McGee series benefits from a well written sociopath in Freddy Van Harn who has the sorts of civic connections and respectability that the beach bum veered away from long ago. He often succeeds at charming McGee rather than acting evil. Cindy Birdsong is an unlikely choice as romantic interest, but I liked how she was as worn out as McGee, though in a much less affected way. The perils McGee gets himself into are harrowing and suggest that amateur criminals are more dangerous than professional ones due to poor judgment they attempt to compensate for with worse judgment. And then there's Florida, where there always seems to be a construction site or swamp to hide a body.
Next up is The Dreadful Lemon Sky. Published in 1974, this is a terrific detective thriller that loiters between some familiar markers, but allows the MacDonald to share his guardedly pessimistic world view and magazine knowledge of all things from sailing to ballistics to cocktail dip. Travis McGee is asleep aboard his houseboat when his alarm bell alerts him to a visitor. She is Carrie Milligan, nee Dobrovsky, who McGee knew six years ago when she worked for Peerless Marine and was a party fixture who McGee rescued from a frat boat rapist and spent one night with. Carrie opens a box packed with $94,200 cash for McGee to hold, $10,000 for his troubles, and no questions asked.
McGee hides the stash in the flooded double hull and while Carrie takes a much needed bath and sleeps off whatever she's running from, her host inspects the contents of her purse and car. He discovers little more than that Carrie now works for Superior Building Supplies in Bayside, has some industrial abrasive in her trunk and in spite of her paranoia that he keeps the lights on The Busted Flush turned off, no one suspicious lurking around the Bahia Mar Marina at four in the morning. Seeking someone to corroborate his version of events in case the law moves in, McGee seeks out his friend Meyer, an acerbic retired economist, on the beach to discuss.
Meyer was curious about the money, so I described the stacks to him, each neatly tied with a white cotton string, each of mixed denominations, each totaling ten thousand. And, of course there were the loose bills, probably from a broken stack, which could mean that she had spent fifty-eight hundred. Each stack had an adding-machine tape stuffed under the string. Yes, all apparently from the same machine, but I hadn't examined them closely. It was used money, but reasonably clean and tidy. Under black light, it might fluoresce. Or somebody might have a list of serial numbers. Or it could all be funny money, printed in a small room by night.
Eager to be on her way, Carrie asks McGee give her money to her sister should anything happen to her. Two weeks later, Meyer shares a newspaper clipping that reports Carolyn Milligan was struck dead while walking on a road in Bayside. Needing to do nothing more than deliver the stash to Susie Dobrovsky, McGee seeks to assure himself that the money comes with no strings attached. Sailing The Busted Flush up the coast to Bayside with Meyer along for the trip, McGee reserves a slip at a marina that earns his approval, operated by an able young man with a Jesus face named Jason Breen and managed by a stoic, tall and tan woman with a wedding ring named Cindy Birdsong.
Cindy's sideways husband Cal bursts into the office, pops his wife in the lip and comes at McGee. Two cops subdue the drunk and take him to jail for the trail of destruction he's left behind in town over the last several hours. McGee rents an AMC Gremlin with busted A/C and visits Superior Building Supplies, where a saucy, ginger haired file clerk named Joanna Freeler and office manager Harry Hascomb are busy conducting inventory for a going out of business sale, owner Jack Omaha having secretly sold off the warehouse stock at less than cost and disappeared. McGee visits Omaha's home and finds the missing man's wife getting friendly with a tall, slender lawyer named Freddy Van Harn.
McGee's investigation leads him to an exclusive apartment building where Carrie lived. He discovers she was mixed up in a marijuana smuggling operation with her boss Jack Omaha, whose boat made pickups in the Gulf with the help of Cal Birdsong, with packages air dropped by Freddy Van Harn, piloting his own Cessna. Van Harn would appear to have no need for such risks, marrying up into a ranching family and whose future father-in-law has promised to get Van Harn elected to state legislature. The only problem is that all of Van Harn's drug running partners have mysteriously disappeared or been killed lately. McGee keeps digging, putting his own health at risk.
Suddenly, I thought of one slim chance. If I couldn't make it work, I was going to be no worse off. I was going to be dead. And if I didn't try it, I was going to be dead. A mockingbird flew over, singing on the wing, a melody so beautifully sweet it pinched my heart. I do not want to leave the world of mockingbirds, boats, beaches, ladies, love, and peanut butter from Deaf Smith County. Especially do I not want to leave it at the hands of a fool, at the hands of this Van Harn who thought he could wipe out an event by killing anybody who knew anything about it. It has been tried. It never works. Any lawyer should know that.
With The Dreadful Lemon Sky, John D. MacDonald does click multiple boxes for the business traveler or beachcomber looking for escapist detective fare. Here we have the young girl mixed up in a caper, a box o' cash, a houseboat, lowlifes, an attorney criminal, women with tans, long legs and brains, and a dogged beach bum with nothing but time and an inquisitive mind. What I enjoy so much about the Travis McGee series--when MacDonald brings the quality control--are the keys to modern living wrapped in the often bemused, sometimes bummed philosophies of a Korean War veteran in the 1970s, surrounded by credit cards, pills, free love and easy living that seems anything but easy. Instead of barreling the reader down a plot, MacDonald stops to think.
At drinking time I left Meyer at the wheel and went below and broke out the very last bottle of the Plymouth gin which had been bottled in the United Kingdom. All the others were bottled in the U.S. It isn't the same. It's still a pretty good gin but it is not a superb, stingingly dry, and lovely gin. The sailor on the label no longer looks staunch and forthright, but merely hokey. There is something self-destructive about Western technology and distribution. Whenever any consumer object is so excellent that it attracts a devoted following, some of the slide rule and computer types come in on their twinkle toes and take over the store , and in a trice they figure out just how far they can cut quality and still increase market penetration. Their reasoning is that is it idiotic to make and sell a hundred thousand units of something and make a profit of thirty cents a unit, when you can increase the advertising, sell five million units, and make a nickel a profit a unit. Thus the very good things of the world go down the drain, from honest turkey to honest eggs to honest tomatoes. And gin.
The sixteenth novel in the Travis McGee series benefits from a well written sociopath in Freddy Van Harn who has the sorts of civic connections and respectability that the beach bum veered away from long ago. He often succeeds at charming McGee rather than acting evil. Cindy Birdsong is an unlikely choice as romantic interest, but I liked how she was as worn out as McGee, though in a much less affected way. The perils McGee gets himself into are harrowing and suggest that amateur criminals are more dangerous than professional ones due to poor judgment they attempt to compensate for with worse judgment. And then there's Florida, where there always seems to be a construction site or swamp to hide a body.
April 4, 2014
Really?
I know it’s the old Sea Cock Travis McGee we’re talking about here, but this is a whole new low….
Hang on. We all know that I’m going to do another rant about the sexism, but let’s change things up and talk about the good parts first.
Carrie Milligan is an old friend of McGee’s who shows up very late one night at his houseboat and asks if he’ll hold a large sum of money for her. If she doesn’t come back and get it by a certain date, Travis should hand the cash over to her sister, and he gets ten grand for his trouble. McGee agrees and stashes the cash, and Carrie departs. Before her deadline McGee gets the news that she was killed after being hit by a car in another Florida town. Suspecting that something is going on and feeling that he owes her something more for the ten thousand, Travis and his best friend Meyer take his houseboat to Bayside and start poking around. However, they’ve walked into the middle of a scheme with an increasing body count.
This is one of the best plots in a McGee novel yet. Puzzling out where Carrie got the money and if her death was the result of foul play involves McGee running a variety of small cons on people to get them talking, and it allows the book to indulge in one of the best aspects of the series, conversations between McGee and Meyer. There’s a vivid discourse by Meyer at one point about learning the true nature of death and guns that has stuck with me in the 20-some years since I first read it. There’s also a couple of very good action scenes.
Plus, after being something of a know-it-all bore in his observations in the last couple of books, Travis is back to fine form in his cynical musings about American life and society. Here’s a bit where he’s describing the town:
"It was easy to see the shape and history of Bayside, Florida. There had been a little town on the bay shore, a few hundred people, a sleepy downtown with live oaks and Spanish moss. Then International Amalgamated Development had moved in, bought a couple of thousand acres, and put in shopping centers, town houses, condominiums, and rental apartments, just south of town. Next had arrived Consolidated Construction Enterprises and done the same thing north of town. Smaller operators had done the same things on a smaller scale west of town. When downtown decayed, the town fathers widened the streets and cut down the shade trees in an attempt to look just like a shopping center. It didn't work. It never does. This was instant Florida, tacky and stifling and full of ugly and spurious energies. They had every chain food-service outfit known to man, interspersed with used-car lots and furniture stores."
This is what a Travis McGee book reads like when it’s firing on all cylinders. So this should be an easy example of a fast-n-fun crime novel in a series that would be an easy 4 stars.
But…..
As usual, we got to talk about McGee and the ladies. For example, Carrie trusts Travis because he once saved her from being raped at a party, and that’s certainly understandable. But of course the ole Sea Cock nails her right after that. OK, it’s not quite that bad, and Travis does note that it’s highly unusual that a woman would be aroused right after being attacked. Besides, he’s Travis McGee! What lady could resist his charms even in those circumstances?
There are also two separate incidents of women being hit in front of Travis in this book, and he doesn’t seem that upset about it. In the first one after witnessing a drunk man deck his wife, Travis does fight the guy, but he makes it clear that he’s really just trying to get away from him. After the cops show up he follows her lead in not asking that charges be filed because that's always the best play in domestic abuse. Then a sleazy lawyer pimp-slaps an annoying woman and knocks her to the floor right in front of Travis, and while McGee doesn’t like it, he doesn’t bang the guy’s head off a wall or call the cops either. Yeah, yeah. I know. Simpler times. When a female just had to expect to take a really solid shot to the mouth every once in a while.
There’s a nice patronizing piece of Letting-The-Man-Take-Charge-Here-Little-Lady when Travis steps in at the funeral home when Cindy’s sister is getting screwed over on the bill. That could have been played as him looking out for her because she’s just so overcome with grief, but Travis and the funeral director have to go in the other room without her because obviously it’s man talk. Travis does include her finally to prove she isn’t some simpering little fool who will pay anything because she’s falling apart. Then she immediately falls apart after the funeral director leaves. There, there, little girl. Don’t worry. Daddy Travis is here to take care of everything.
Speaking of Cindy’s sister Susan, although McGee is protective enough to haggle over a bill for her, he neglects to inform her that he’s learned that a male character she’s interacting with is a ruthless pursuer of sexual conquests and his behavior has been reported as borderline rapey. Way to look out for the sister of your dead friend, McGee.
Worst of all is that McGee pulls one of his slimiest moves yet when he puts the moves on a woman who was widowed like a week before. Yeah, she admits she didn’t love her husband, and it seems a bit too soon, but hey, it’s the Sea Cock so the two are banging in no time. Unfortunately, she breaks into a crying jag at the beginning of their first session which is a total bummer, and when she finally stops Travis is worried that she might be ‘too tired for love’. That doesn’t stop him from peeling her clothes off, and guess what? She wasn’t! The Sea Cock scores again!
Then Travis is offended at several points when he feels like she isn’t reciprocating his lovey-dovey feelings strongly enough. He also acts like a petulant child when he asks if she’ll go on one of his long houseboat cruises and she tells that she not only needs to work, that she likes to work and doesn’t think taking off with a shady guy she doesn’t know that well would be the best life choice. Plus, that dead husband isn’t even cold yet. In Travis's view this is the wrong decision.
*sigh*
I was hoping this kind of stuff would get better as the books moved into the ‘70s and ‘80s, but I think it’s getting worse. Still, I really did like the other aspects so I’ll split the difference and call it 3 stars.
I know it’s the old Sea Cock Travis McGee we’re talking about here, but this is a whole new low….
Hang on. We all know that I’m going to do another rant about the sexism, but let’s change things up and talk about the good parts first.
Carrie Milligan is an old friend of McGee’s who shows up very late one night at his houseboat and asks if he’ll hold a large sum of money for her. If she doesn’t come back and get it by a certain date, Travis should hand the cash over to her sister, and he gets ten grand for his trouble. McGee agrees and stashes the cash, and Carrie departs. Before her deadline McGee gets the news that she was killed after being hit by a car in another Florida town. Suspecting that something is going on and feeling that he owes her something more for the ten thousand, Travis and his best friend Meyer take his houseboat to Bayside and start poking around. However, they’ve walked into the middle of a scheme with an increasing body count.
This is one of the best plots in a McGee novel yet. Puzzling out where Carrie got the money and if her death was the result of foul play involves McGee running a variety of small cons on people to get them talking, and it allows the book to indulge in one of the best aspects of the series, conversations between McGee and Meyer. There’s a vivid discourse by Meyer at one point about learning the true nature of death and guns that has stuck with me in the 20-some years since I first read it. There’s also a couple of very good action scenes.
Plus, after being something of a know-it-all bore in his observations in the last couple of books, Travis is back to fine form in his cynical musings about American life and society. Here’s a bit where he’s describing the town:
"It was easy to see the shape and history of Bayside, Florida. There had been a little town on the bay shore, a few hundred people, a sleepy downtown with live oaks and Spanish moss. Then International Amalgamated Development had moved in, bought a couple of thousand acres, and put in shopping centers, town houses, condominiums, and rental apartments, just south of town. Next had arrived Consolidated Construction Enterprises and done the same thing north of town. Smaller operators had done the same things on a smaller scale west of town. When downtown decayed, the town fathers widened the streets and cut down the shade trees in an attempt to look just like a shopping center. It didn't work. It never does. This was instant Florida, tacky and stifling and full of ugly and spurious energies. They had every chain food-service outfit known to man, interspersed with used-car lots and furniture stores."
This is what a Travis McGee book reads like when it’s firing on all cylinders. So this should be an easy example of a fast-n-fun crime novel in a series that would be an easy 4 stars.
But…..
As usual, we got to talk about McGee and the ladies. For example, Carrie trusts Travis because he once saved her from being raped at a party, and that’s certainly understandable. But of course the ole Sea Cock nails her right after that. OK, it’s not quite that bad, and Travis does note that it’s highly unusual that a woman would be aroused right after being attacked. Besides, he’s Travis McGee! What lady could resist his charms even in those circumstances?
There are also two separate incidents of women being hit in front of Travis in this book, and he doesn’t seem that upset about it. In the first one after witnessing a drunk man deck his wife, Travis does fight the guy, but he makes it clear that he’s really just trying to get away from him. After the cops show up he follows her lead in not asking that charges be filed because that's always the best play in domestic abuse. Then a sleazy lawyer pimp-slaps an annoying woman and knocks her to the floor right in front of Travis, and while McGee doesn’t like it, he doesn’t bang the guy’s head off a wall or call the cops either. Yeah, yeah. I know. Simpler times. When a female just had to expect to take a really solid shot to the mouth every once in a while.
There’s a nice patronizing piece of Letting-The-Man-Take-Charge-Here-Little-Lady when Travis steps in at the funeral home when Cindy’s sister is getting screwed over on the bill. That could have been played as him looking out for her because she’s just so overcome with grief, but Travis and the funeral director have to go in the other room without her because obviously it’s man talk. Travis does include her finally to prove she isn’t some simpering little fool who will pay anything because she’s falling apart. Then she immediately falls apart after the funeral director leaves. There, there, little girl. Don’t worry. Daddy Travis is here to take care of everything.
Speaking of Cindy’s sister Susan, although McGee is protective enough to haggle over a bill for her, he neglects to inform her that he’s learned that a male character she’s interacting with is a ruthless pursuer of sexual conquests and his behavior has been reported as borderline rapey. Way to look out for the sister of your dead friend, McGee.
Worst of all is that McGee pulls one of his slimiest moves yet when he puts the moves on a woman who was widowed like a week before. Yeah, she admits she didn’t love her husband, and it seems a bit too soon, but hey, it’s the Sea Cock so the two are banging in no time. Unfortunately, she breaks into a crying jag at the beginning of their first session which is a total bummer, and when she finally stops Travis is worried that she might be ‘too tired for love’. That doesn’t stop him from peeling her clothes off, and guess what? She wasn’t! The Sea Cock scores again!
Then Travis is offended at several points when he feels like she isn’t reciprocating his lovey-dovey feelings strongly enough. He also acts like a petulant child when he asks if she’ll go on one of his long houseboat cruises and she tells that she not only needs to work, that she likes to work and doesn’t think taking off with a shady guy she doesn’t know that well would be the best life choice. Plus, that dead husband isn’t even cold yet. In Travis's view this is the wrong decision.
*sigh*
I was hoping this kind of stuff would get better as the books moved into the ‘70s and ‘80s, but I think it’s getting worse. Still, I really did like the other aspects so I’ll split the difference and call it 3 stars.
November 14, 2017
The Travis McGee novels are most successful on a pure entertainment level when there is a mystery to solve or a chain of events to uncover. Here there are both. McGee is awoken in the middle of the night by Carrie Milligan, an acquaintance of six years back, arriving with a shoe box under her arm stuffed with a little over $100,000. Assured that the money is rightfully hers and not stolen, McGee is asked to keep it safe for a month. Two weeks later Carrie dies as a victim of an unwitnessed hit-and-run. A couple of questions need answers: who killed her (if she was murdered) and where did the money come from? It leads McGee and his best friend Meyer to the City and County of Bayside. But first. . . .
The rest of the novel works to perfection. An intriguing setup allows McGee and Meyer to dive right into the characters and their lives and relationships. Though Carrie was a little older than her friends, most of them are the remnants of the hippie generation. His houseboat, which McGee brought with him to the seaside town, gives him an initial in with them. An incidental encounter upon his arrival helps with other residents. For the rest he uses what little he’d learned from Carrie. Not an uninteresting thing follows. The Dreadful Lemon Sky delivers on mystery, character, drama, action and romance.
The only real negative is so small that it can’t diminish a Goodreads five-star rating. There’s a fight to the death that may go on for too long. There are story reasons for this, too, but it may wear on some. Not for long, though. There are still revelations to come and a final altercation, which is where the novel takes its name.
It’s not to be missed.
Sexism Warning: Created in the Swingin’ Sixties this series was peppered with the chauvinism of the era, which the McGee novels never completely lost as it continued through the next decade and a half. Part of what made total eradication impossible, even in the face of changing times and sensibilities, was the first person narrative of a womanizer and self-professed beach bum. These tendencies did soften as McGee aged but even as a middle teen--as I was when I first read these books--I realized a lot of the character’s histrionics over his carnal motives were simply a mask for wanting and liking sex. Such was MacDonald’s skill that you could assign and argue real-world motives to fictional creations, but in the end the degree to which each reader as individuals can ignore such outdated attitudes will determine whether these books will frustrate and anger or deliver superior entertainment. There is nothing outdated about MacDonald’s storytelling.The Dreadful Lemon Sky was McGee’s 16th outing and by 1974 women no longer swooned because they were in his presence. They still became involved with him because he is the hero--it is a staple of the genre, after all--but now there were conflicting motives and underlying vulnerabilities; there were reasons beyond the expectations of the form. But Lemon has one scene that is unforgivable in any era. McGee stands by as a blithering housewife is slapped to the floor. His response? “I tried to look smaller and slower than I am”; an attempt to bait the villain into striking first. There were structural reasons to establish animosity between these two characters while withholding a physical confrontation, but clearly it doesn’t work.
The rest of the novel works to perfection. An intriguing setup allows McGee and Meyer to dive right into the characters and their lives and relationships. Though Carrie was a little older than her friends, most of them are the remnants of the hippie generation. His houseboat, which McGee brought with him to the seaside town, gives him an initial in with them. An incidental encounter upon his arrival helps with other residents. For the rest he uses what little he’d learned from Carrie. Not an uninteresting thing follows. The Dreadful Lemon Sky delivers on mystery, character, drama, action and romance.
The only real negative is so small that it can’t diminish a Goodreads five-star rating. There’s a fight to the death that may go on for too long. There are story reasons for this, too, but it may wear on some. Not for long, though. There are still revelations to come and a final altercation, which is where the novel takes its name.
It’s not to be missed.
June 4, 2018
"Guilt is the most merciless disease of man. It stains all the other areas of living. It darkens all skies"
- John D. MacDonald, The Dreadful Lemon Sky
This is JDM's 16th Travis MCGee novel. It is right in the middle of MacDonald's McGee years (1964-1984), published in 1974. It is weird to think this book is as old as I am. I both feel old and young. It has some of the best McGee traits (plot, maxims, villans, etc) and worst (sexism in all its varieties and shades). I keep on going back to it being a product of its time, but ye gads, I really hope the 70s weren't that bad. As I say that I keep thinking of James Bond movies, rock groupies, and Charlies Angels. It isn't that great now really. I guess the part that bothers me the most about it is how flagerent and contrived it was. I positive MacDonald used it as marketing (much like with 007) BECAUSE it worked. Ugh. Anyway, if it wasn't for the lazy sexism, it might have been 5-stars. Still, it is one of my favorite McGee novels, even with the women-in-peril and Travis the healing sex god.
I'm also not sure what happened, but MacDonald was popping out a Travis McGee novel at the rate of one or two per year in the decade from 1964-1974, but his next McGee novel after this one took him four years. Not that it is important, I just noticed.
- John D. MacDonald, The Dreadful Lemon Sky
This is JDM's 16th Travis MCGee novel. It is right in the middle of MacDonald's McGee years (1964-1984), published in 1974. It is weird to think this book is as old as I am. I both feel old and young. It has some of the best McGee traits (plot, maxims, villans, etc) and worst (sexism in all its varieties and shades). I keep on going back to it being a product of its time, but ye gads, I really hope the 70s weren't that bad. As I say that I keep thinking of James Bond movies, rock groupies, and Charlies Angels. It isn't that great now really. I guess the part that bothers me the most about it is how flagerent and contrived it was. I positive MacDonald used it as marketing (much like with 007) BECAUSE it worked. Ugh. Anyway, if it wasn't for the lazy sexism, it might have been 5-stars. Still, it is one of my favorite McGee novels, even with the women-in-peril and Travis the healing sex god.
I'm also not sure what happened, but MacDonald was popping out a Travis McGee novel at the rate of one or two per year in the decade from 1964-1974, but his next McGee novel after this one took him four years. Not that it is important, I just noticed.
April 22, 2019
4.5 stars
A fine and complex story in the Travis McGee series, mostly linear and set entirely in the present time of the book ~1973.
As usual with my reviews, please first read the publisher’s blurb/summary of the book. Thank you.
Travis continues to feel his age, and again ends in hospital more than once. (His powers of recovery are truly astounding, lucky for us). The body count is pretty high here, but without much gore.
As usual, there are strong and confident women in the book, an aspect of John D. MacDonald that I really love.
Travis and Meyer are in Bayside, Florida to investigate the death of an old friend.
Most of the story takes place in Bayside, Florida
Full size image here
Notes and quotes. No pictures particularly relevant in this book.
There's not usually outright comedy in the McGee books, but this made me laugh out loud 😊
Meyer doctored the brew with some chopped hot pickled peppers and some pepper seeds. He does not approve of chili unless the tears are running down his cheeks while he eats. His specialty, Meyer's Superior Cocktail Dip, is made with dry Chinese mustard moistened to the proper consistency with Tabasco sauce. The unsuspecting have been known to leap four feet straight up into the air after scooping up a tiny portion on a potato chip. Strong men have come down running and gone right through the wall when they missed the open doorway.
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It is strange to sleep for five days and live nights and have the world go rolling along without you. Just like it will keep on after you're dead.
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MacDonald comments on "modern life" (1960s and 70s) quite often. And he’s often right.
The usual eruption of sick, sad, violent events continued throughout the nation and the world, like an unending, eternal string of those little Chinese firecrackers called ladyfingers.
-
The "Lemon Sky" of the title is mentioned more directly after this:
It was in the hard and vivid light of the hour before noon. It was a day of almost stagnant air. The wind had been moving steadily from north to south, bringing to Florida's east coast all the stained and corrosive crud of Birmingham and the rest of the industrial South. The horizons were whiskey-stained, and the sky above was a pallid saffron instead of blue. The bleared sun made harsh studio lighting on the parking lot scene.
-
A good final line:
And it was okay because it had to be. There wasn't any other choice. Sometimes it is a relief not to have a choice. I will have to get Meyer to explain this concept to me.
Bonus. From the 1970 "Darker Than Amber" movie starring Rod Taylor, pictures of the producers' ideas of McGee's "The Busted Flush":
Full size image here
Full size image here
Full size image here
And finally, two great blogs about John D. MacDonald, McGee and the rumoured-never-written novel where McGee dies"...
The Birth of Travis McGee (fascinating)
http://thetrapofsolidgold.blogspot.co...
"Black Border for McGee" (rumours surrounding a final book, never published)
http://thetrapofsolidgold.blogspot.co...
.
A fine and complex story in the Travis McGee series, mostly linear and set entirely in the present time of the book ~1973.
As usual with my reviews, please first read the publisher’s blurb/summary of the book. Thank you.
Travis continues to feel his age, and again ends in hospital more than once. (His powers of recovery are truly astounding, lucky for us). The body count is pretty high here, but without much gore.
As usual, there are strong and confident women in the book, an aspect of John D. MacDonald that I really love.
Travis and Meyer are in Bayside, Florida to investigate the death of an old friend.
Most of the story takes place in Bayside, Florida
Full size image here
Notes and quotes. No pictures particularly relevant in this book.
There's not usually outright comedy in the McGee books, but this made me laugh out loud 😊
Meyer doctored the brew with some chopped hot pickled peppers and some pepper seeds. He does not approve of chili unless the tears are running down his cheeks while he eats. His specialty, Meyer's Superior Cocktail Dip, is made with dry Chinese mustard moistened to the proper consistency with Tabasco sauce. The unsuspecting have been known to leap four feet straight up into the air after scooping up a tiny portion on a potato chip. Strong men have come down running and gone right through the wall when they missed the open doorway.
-
It is strange to sleep for five days and live nights and have the world go rolling along without you. Just like it will keep on after you're dead.
-
MacDonald comments on "modern life" (1960s and 70s) quite often. And he’s often right.
The usual eruption of sick, sad, violent events continued throughout the nation and the world, like an unending, eternal string of those little Chinese firecrackers called ladyfingers.
-
The "Lemon Sky" of the title is mentioned more directly after this:
It was in the hard and vivid light of the hour before noon. It was a day of almost stagnant air. The wind had been moving steadily from north to south, bringing to Florida's east coast all the stained and corrosive crud of Birmingham and the rest of the industrial South. The horizons were whiskey-stained, and the sky above was a pallid saffron instead of blue. The bleared sun made harsh studio lighting on the parking lot scene.
-
A good final line:
And it was okay because it had to be. There wasn't any other choice. Sometimes it is a relief not to have a choice. I will have to get Meyer to explain this concept to me.
Bonus. From the 1970 "Darker Than Amber" movie starring Rod Taylor, pictures of the producers' ideas of McGee's "The Busted Flush":
Full size image here
Full size image here
Full size image here
And finally, two great blogs about John D. MacDonald, McGee and the rumoured-never-written novel where McGee dies"...
The Birth of Travis McGee (fascinating)
http://thetrapofsolidgold.blogspot.co...
"Black Border for McGee" (rumours surrounding a final book, never published)
http://thetrapofsolidgold.blogspot.co...
.
April 9, 2025
Despite the overwhelming positive reviews for this series, I’ve concluded after reading my second Travis McGee book that he’s a character that I don’t care for.
I should say upfront that I’m an avid mystery fan of all types: Golden Age, noir, hardboiled, mystery-thrillers; I like it all. By all rights, I should be enthralled with Trav McGee.
The problem is that I find it off-putting that he has some kind of involvement with almost every female character in each story. This means he either has sex with them, has had sex in the past, or comes close to having sex, or turns down their sex offer. It is ridiculously predictable and marks him as sleazy. The second issue is there is a predatory male character (let’s just came them rapist) in every book that has sex with the female characters or at least attempts to. It boils down to Trav and the bad guy having sex with the same females and that’s where the sleazy feel comes from. On the upside, it seems, the bad guy does die from natural causes by the end.
But it is not all bad. Each story begins with a simple problem and then escalates into multiple deaths and a layered plot. All the while doing a decent job of creating the feel of the period (70s & 80s) with a hard edge in south Florida. One could call it beach noir.
I am sure this series appeals more to the male readers than female. For instance, when I asked my husband (who reads as much as I do) if he had ever read a McGee novel, he said Oh, yeah! And that he thought they were great. Sigh.
I should say upfront that I’m an avid mystery fan of all types: Golden Age, noir, hardboiled, mystery-thrillers; I like it all. By all rights, I should be enthralled with Trav McGee.
The problem is that I find it off-putting that he has some kind of involvement with almost every female character in each story. This means he either has sex with them, has had sex in the past, or comes close to having sex, or turns down their sex offer. It is ridiculously predictable and marks him as sleazy. The second issue is there is a predatory male character (let’s just came them rapist) in every book that has sex with the female characters or at least attempts to. It boils down to Trav and the bad guy having sex with the same females and that’s where the sleazy feel comes from. On the upside, it seems, the bad guy does die from natural causes by the end.
But it is not all bad. Each story begins with a simple problem and then escalates into multiple deaths and a layered plot. All the while doing a decent job of creating the feel of the period (70s & 80s) with a hard edge in south Florida. One could call it beach noir.
I am sure this series appeals more to the male readers than female. For instance, when I asked my husband (who reads as much as I do) if he had ever read a McGee novel, he said Oh, yeah! And that he thought they were great. Sigh.
April 18, 2024
In Junior High, in grade eight English, we did a large and in my nostalgic memory exceedingly interesting and engaging segment on American and British mystery fiction, reading both classical and not so classical instalments from the late 19th century to what was at that time considered contemporary American detective fiction (from such diverse authors as Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, Rex Stout, John D. MacDonald and of course many many more). From the many authors we had to read (and the required reading list featured at least thirty authors), we managed to obtain a more than solid introduction to the mystery and detective fiction genre (and while there was a huge amount of reading required, it was both an enjoyable and enlightening experience, with for me especially Rex Stout and John D. MacDonald rapidly becoming personal favourites).
And with the latter, with John D. MacDonald, it was actually NOT so much the main protagonist Travis McGee who tickled my reading fancy, it was and still is his academic and at times rather cynical and knowledgeable sidekick Meyer (whose first name always remains a mystery) with whom I totally fell in love, who absolutely and intensely entered my heart and my soul (and to such an extent that any Travis McGee book which did and does not feature as much Meyer as McGee, I simply did and do not enjoy all that much). Now with this here novel, with The Dreadful Lemon Sky, with this sixteenth instalment of Travis MgGee, his adventures and yes, also often his mishaps, I do consider it rather special because it was the first book by the author I read, namely the one novel of the series that our teacher had included in the reading list and made us read in grade eight, and it therefore holds a special place in my heart for introducing me to Travis McGee, to Meyer, to Meyer's genius and sweetness of character, but I do not really consider it an absolute and always enduring personal favourite.
For while in retrospect, there is an adequate amount of Meyer and Meyer's genius and oh so special friendship and companionship with and to McGee presented and included in The Dreadful Lemon Sky, there is nevertheless still a trifle too much McGee and too little Meyer for me on a personal and reading enjoyment level. The Dreadful Lemon Sky is indeed a very good and readable novel (and perhaps for adamant Travis McGee fans, even a great novel), but for me, it remains just adequate, as many of the series novels that contain more Meyer, and some that actually feature stories specifically about him, dealing with his issues and not so much issues and problems, mysteries that pertain to, that feature Travis McGee, well, as a total Meyer fan, as someone who is still after more than twenty odd years totally engaged in a literary crush on the latter, The Dreadful Lemon Sky is simply not enough Meyer-heavy to warrant but a high three star ranking (three and a half, but not quite four stars). And yes, check out the gloriously tacky and bright late 70s/early 80s book cover!
And with the latter, with John D. MacDonald, it was actually NOT so much the main protagonist Travis McGee who tickled my reading fancy, it was and still is his academic and at times rather cynical and knowledgeable sidekick Meyer (whose first name always remains a mystery) with whom I totally fell in love, who absolutely and intensely entered my heart and my soul (and to such an extent that any Travis McGee book which did and does not feature as much Meyer as McGee, I simply did and do not enjoy all that much). Now with this here novel, with The Dreadful Lemon Sky, with this sixteenth instalment of Travis MgGee, his adventures and yes, also often his mishaps, I do consider it rather special because it was the first book by the author I read, namely the one novel of the series that our teacher had included in the reading list and made us read in grade eight, and it therefore holds a special place in my heart for introducing me to Travis McGee, to Meyer, to Meyer's genius and sweetness of character, but I do not really consider it an absolute and always enduring personal favourite.
For while in retrospect, there is an adequate amount of Meyer and Meyer's genius and oh so special friendship and companionship with and to McGee presented and included in The Dreadful Lemon Sky, there is nevertheless still a trifle too much McGee and too little Meyer for me on a personal and reading enjoyment level. The Dreadful Lemon Sky is indeed a very good and readable novel (and perhaps for adamant Travis McGee fans, even a great novel), but for me, it remains just adequate, as many of the series novels that contain more Meyer, and some that actually feature stories specifically about him, dealing with his issues and not so much issues and problems, mysteries that pertain to, that feature Travis McGee, well, as a total Meyer fan, as someone who is still after more than twenty odd years totally engaged in a literary crush on the latter, The Dreadful Lemon Sky is simply not enough Meyer-heavy to warrant but a high three star ranking (three and a half, but not quite four stars). And yes, check out the gloriously tacky and bright late 70s/early 80s book cover!
April 12, 2019
The Dreadful (Really Dreadful) Lemon Sky
Each of the books in the Travis McGee series relate to a color and an alliterative phrase. Some of the titles are just so great. It’s as if the title is an entire poem. The Dreadful Lemon Sky is such a title. It stirs the imagination.
The Travis McGee tales are a real different kind of mystery series. For one thing, McGee isn’t a detective. He’s a curious soul that likes to meddle into things, particularly when people he knows are knocked off. For another thing, he seldom has a client or a rational reason for sticking his nose in. And, he’s not quite a square working class joe. In fact, he’s taking his retirement a little at a time when he’s still young enough to enjoy it.
The impetus here is a late night visitor who leaves a parcel with him (no, not the Maltese Falcon) and disappears, only to be reported deceased two weeks later. McGee senses something off and goes to the lady’s hometown with Meyer in tow to figure it out.
Perfectly paced, McDonald uses McGee’s adventures to show us what’s lurking neath the surface of our small towns.
Each of the books in the Travis McGee series relate to a color and an alliterative phrase. Some of the titles are just so great. It’s as if the title is an entire poem. The Dreadful Lemon Sky is such a title. It stirs the imagination.
The Travis McGee tales are a real different kind of mystery series. For one thing, McGee isn’t a detective. He’s a curious soul that likes to meddle into things, particularly when people he knows are knocked off. For another thing, he seldom has a client or a rational reason for sticking his nose in. And, he’s not quite a square working class joe. In fact, he’s taking his retirement a little at a time when he’s still young enough to enjoy it.
The impetus here is a late night visitor who leaves a parcel with him (no, not the Maltese Falcon) and disappears, only to be reported deceased two weeks later. McGee senses something off and goes to the lady’s hometown with Meyer in tow to figure it out.
Perfectly paced, McDonald uses McGee’s adventures to show us what’s lurking neath the surface of our small towns.
July 19, 2016
This was my first reading of John MacDonald's work and please don't ask me why because I don't know. This book was published in 1974 and reads as a still current novel. I love the Travis McGee character. I now will need to start with this series from the beginning. Would highly recommend this book, series and author to others that enjoy Florida P.I. fiction.
November 13, 2023
One of McGee's exes asks him to hide a big sum of money, in exchange for 10 grand. Then she goes and get herself killed. The trouble with large sums of money, is that someone is always trying to get it away from you.
July 26, 2022
Around the World of Crime and Mystery
1974 - Southern Florida
Hook - 3 stars: Typical, a girl on the run appears on Travis' Busted Flush.
Pace/Structure - 4: I really liked that Meyer keeps talking about an invisible planet that has a pull on everything that's visible. MacDonald makes use of this idea to pull a winding plot together nicely.
Crime - 4: Theft, murder, drug smuggling, land development, lawyers/politicians, more. A lot going on.
Cast- 4: Meyer and Travis at their team/investigator best. Women who say no to Travis. Women who take charge of businesses.
Atmosphere - 4: Florida is getting very seedy, and it's only 1974. Pot is ubiquitous: the bad drugs are on the way. Land is being abused via politics. Travis in a Gremlin.
Summary: 3.8. One of my favorites in the series so far: I have five more to go. Is MacDonald getting better in these final Travis stories?
1974 - Southern Florida
Hook - 3 stars: Typical, a girl on the run appears on Travis' Busted Flush.
Pace/Structure - 4: I really liked that Meyer keeps talking about an invisible planet that has a pull on everything that's visible. MacDonald makes use of this idea to pull a winding plot together nicely.
Crime - 4: Theft, murder, drug smuggling, land development, lawyers/politicians, more. A lot going on.
Cast- 4: Meyer and Travis at their team/investigator best. Women who say no to Travis. Women who take charge of businesses.
Atmosphere - 4: Florida is getting very seedy, and it's only 1974. Pot is ubiquitous: the bad drugs are on the way. Land is being abused via politics. Travis in a Gremlin.
Summary: 3.8. One of my favorites in the series so far: I have five more to go. Is MacDonald getting better in these final Travis stories?
June 11, 2018
I could not finish this book. But, I'll try John D. MacDonald again or better, Ross MacDonald--no relation as far as I know.
June 25, 2022
If you've been reading through the Travis McGee series sequentially—and this is probably my third time through—you can't help but notice, in this the 16th (of 21), that McGee's brushes with death are more frequent and more narrowly avoided. McGee is on his game in this one, however, and there is less talk of feeling his age and losing his step. He mentions luck a few times and he praises the skills of his opponent. MacDonald is sowing more seeds for the end of McGee. But not yet. As usual, plenty of good action scenes and the climactic sequence involving a jeep with a blade and some fire ants is top notch. This book also features, at least up to this point in the series I think, the best tag-team investigating by McGee and Meyers as MacDonald makes full use of their different skill sets to completely unravel the mystery of what happened to Carrie Milligan. One of the things I like most about MacDonald's approach is that he doesn't rely on the mystery trope of wrapping things all up in some final scene that solves the whodunnit. McGee and Meyer are incrementalists using con, smarts, sneakery and thuggery to put the puzzle together piece by piece. They toss out theories and test them. They poke and prod to see who gets squirrelly. It's a fun process to follow and makes this one my top McGee's.
June 18, 2022
My first Travis McGee novel. I'm forty-four years old and I'm just now getting around to reading the McGee books. Well anyway there isn't a whole lot to say. McGee is a "salvage expert". He gets hired to find things that people have lost - so to speak. He lives on a houseboat called "The Busted Flush" and his best friend is Meyer who helps him on his salvage jobs.
The writing is strong on details, characters and Mr. McGee's observations and philosophical musings.
In this story Mr. McGee is looking into the death of a lady from his past. Since the novel was written in 1974 (approximately) there are drug smugglers, swingers, polyester clothing, bright loud colors and some commentary about the then current political and social scene.
It is a mystery and there are a couple twists in the plot. It's a very comfortable read and I liked it. Just the thing for when one has settled into bed or while waiting for one's significant other to finish her shopping.
Since this is my first McGee novel I have to say I can see why they were so popular with people. McGee and Meyer are likable and the mystery ,while not super hard to figure out, does keep you going. The book takes you to the place and you find yourself getting involved. As another reviewer noted there is a strong resemblance to Magnum P.I. and The Rockford Files which were shows that I liked. Therefore no surprise that I like this book and Travis McGee.
I think I'll read a few more.
The writing is strong on details, characters and Mr. McGee's observations and philosophical musings.
In this story Mr. McGee is looking into the death of a lady from his past. Since the novel was written in 1974 (approximately) there are drug smugglers, swingers, polyester clothing, bright loud colors and some commentary about the then current political and social scene.
It is a mystery and there are a couple twists in the plot. It's a very comfortable read and I liked it. Just the thing for when one has settled into bed or while waiting for one's significant other to finish her shopping.
Since this is my first McGee novel I have to say I can see why they were so popular with people. McGee and Meyer are likable and the mystery ,while not super hard to figure out, does keep you going. The book takes you to the place and you find yourself getting involved. As another reviewer noted there is a strong resemblance to Magnum P.I. and The Rockford Files which were shows that I liked. Therefore no surprise that I like this book and Travis McGee.
I think I'll read a few more.
May 14, 2012
McDonald was one of the best. His Ft. Lauderdale is essentially gone, now, but in his day, (and a good bit of mine), it was a fascinating place and the livaboard community around Ft. Lauderdale Beach and the Las Olas area lent a unique and irreplaceable aura to a fascinating era. I speak from experience, having lived aboard a 38 foot sloop for about two years in a slip on Hendricks Isle. It's a rotten shame those days are gone forever, and the livaboard community with them.
November 16, 2020
One of the better ones I've read, and I'm getting near the end of the series. The plot is a little more straightforward and the writing a little more succinct than some of the others. McGee may be slowing down a bit, but he's still up for solving a mystery, thwarting the goals of the rich and powerful, doing his part to play the hero to a few beautiful women and slowing the inevitable decay of his beloved Florida.
August 28, 2008
I was curious to see how well MacDonald held up, and remember this book from when it first appeared in 75. It turns out it holds up very well, and from what I can tell his portrait of Florida is both accurate and had good predictions in it. Though McGee and Meyer are very conservative, when reading one book they don't seem as creaky as they did back when I used to read every one as it came out. There are also passages in here that are nicely evocative, such as one where McGee is trying to fall asleep in his boat in an inlet, and he describes all the sounds and the feel of the water under the boat. An entertaining book.
May 10, 2020
Travis McGee is awakened by an intruder on his boat, The Busted Flush. He grabs for his trusty gun, but instead of someone out for his blood it is one of his lady friends--Carrie Milligan. He hasn't seen Carrie for quite some time...not since she got married to Ben. She's no longer married and she's desperate for a friend she can trust with no questions asked. You see...she's got a package with a little over a hundred thousand dollars in it and she wants Travis to stash it for her for about two weeks. If she doesn't come back for it by then...well, then, she's not coming back for it and he's to deliver all but $10,000 of it to her sister. The $10,000 is his fee for babysitting her package. Of course, Travis has questions, but he agrees to stash the money without getting any answers.
You know what's coming. Carrie doesn't come back. Carrie is hit by a truck on a lonely stretch of road and Travis isn't ready to believe it was an accident. So, he and his buddy Meyer decide to head for the northern coast of Florida and investigate in the little town where Carrie died. The dig up an amateur marijuana smuggling operation, a slick young lawyer who likes to prey on the ladies and who seems to have more ready cash than a man just establishing his practice ought to, and a missing partner in the company where Carrie worked. Soon Travis and Meyer have all the threads in their hands, but just when they've used them to fashion a noose for one of the suspects they realize that it could just as easily fit someone else too.
This is the sixteenth installment in MacDonald's Travis McGee series and it's the second McGee novel I've ever read. I enjoyed it every bit as much as the first one* even if the body count is a bit higher. I said at the time that on the face of it, this series is SO not my kind of thing. I'm not really into this kind of private eye, er "Salvage Consultant" thing. But Travis isn't really your usual gritty, hard-boiled investigator. He ventures into philosophy every now and then. Like
Guilt is the most merciless disease of man. It stains all the other areas of living. It darkens all skies.
And [on reasons for lovemaking]
The biggest and most important reason in the world is to be together in a way that makes life a little less bleak and solitary and lonesome. To exchange the I for We. In the biggest sense of the word, it's cold outside. And kindness and affection and gentleness build a nice warm fire inside.
Travis makes his way into a lot of ladies' beds (or gets them into his), but he puts more feeling into it than a lot of hardboiled private eyes. And he knows when to say no to a pair of beckoning eyes. [As with Carrie in the beginning of the book.]
As I said in my previous review, MacDonald can write. Imagery? You got it. Philosophical commentary? You got it. Social commentary on the world of the early 1970s? You got it. Interesting side-kick and peripheral characters? You got those too. I particularly like the character of Captain Harry Max Scorf (a local investigator). He's a man with a sense of justice that won't quit and runs into a moral conflict when the people who will see that he gets his pension want him to drop the case. He's also a man who can read Travis pretty good and knows when our hero is holding out on him. It was interesting to see those two play off one another.
A really good entry in the series. It's still not the type of book that I'll rush to get every book in the series...but I do have Nightmare in Pink waiting on one of the TBR mountains around here. I can definitely recommend Travis McGee--especially to those who like private investigators from the 1960s and 70s. ★★★ and 1/2.
(*Dress Her in Indigo--which I read about ten years ago; has it really been that long?!)
First posted on my blog My Reader's Block. Please request permission before reposting portions of the review. Thanks.
You know what's coming. Carrie doesn't come back. Carrie is hit by a truck on a lonely stretch of road and Travis isn't ready to believe it was an accident. So, he and his buddy Meyer decide to head for the northern coast of Florida and investigate in the little town where Carrie died. The dig up an amateur marijuana smuggling operation, a slick young lawyer who likes to prey on the ladies and who seems to have more ready cash than a man just establishing his practice ought to, and a missing partner in the company where Carrie worked. Soon Travis and Meyer have all the threads in their hands, but just when they've used them to fashion a noose for one of the suspects they realize that it could just as easily fit someone else too.
This is the sixteenth installment in MacDonald's Travis McGee series and it's the second McGee novel I've ever read. I enjoyed it every bit as much as the first one* even if the body count is a bit higher. I said at the time that on the face of it, this series is SO not my kind of thing. I'm not really into this kind of private eye, er "Salvage Consultant" thing. But Travis isn't really your usual gritty, hard-boiled investigator. He ventures into philosophy every now and then. Like
Guilt is the most merciless disease of man. It stains all the other areas of living. It darkens all skies.
And [on reasons for lovemaking]
The biggest and most important reason in the world is to be together in a way that makes life a little less bleak and solitary and lonesome. To exchange the I for We. In the biggest sense of the word, it's cold outside. And kindness and affection and gentleness build a nice warm fire inside.
Travis makes his way into a lot of ladies' beds (or gets them into his), but he puts more feeling into it than a lot of hardboiled private eyes. And he knows when to say no to a pair of beckoning eyes. [As with Carrie in the beginning of the book.]
As I said in my previous review, MacDonald can write. Imagery? You got it. Philosophical commentary? You got it. Social commentary on the world of the early 1970s? You got it. Interesting side-kick and peripheral characters? You got those too. I particularly like the character of Captain Harry Max Scorf (a local investigator). He's a man with a sense of justice that won't quit and runs into a moral conflict when the people who will see that he gets his pension want him to drop the case. He's also a man who can read Travis pretty good and knows when our hero is holding out on him. It was interesting to see those two play off one another.
A really good entry in the series. It's still not the type of book that I'll rush to get every book in the series...but I do have Nightmare in Pink waiting on one of the TBR mountains around here. I can definitely recommend Travis McGee--especially to those who like private investigators from the 1960s and 70s. ★★★ and 1/2.
(*Dress Her in Indigo--which I read about ten years ago; has it really been that long?!)
First posted on my blog My Reader's Block. Please request permission before reposting portions of the review. Thanks.
June 10, 2025
Three point five
August 18, 2015
A friend of Travis McGee appears in the middle of the night, asking him to keep a package for her and if she doesn't return for it, to make certain her sister gets it. The package contains a sum of money, a portion of which McGee is given for this favor. A short time later, the friend dies in an auto accident. McGee goes to the funeral intending to carry out his promise, asks the wrong questions and becomes convinced the friend was murdered.
Thus he and we, the readers, are catapulted into a tale of drug smuggling, murder, a serial rapist, and the inevitable hand-to-hand combat with the killer, in this case involving a jeep, a backhoe, and a dead horse. While the villains McGee meets are egotistical and not easily brought down, the women are also some of the toughest and usually just as wicked and cold-blooded as the men in what they want and what they'll do to get it...no sweet simpering ladies here.
Through it all McGee's world-weary and philosophical first person POV narrative brings to us the beauty and the ugliness existing around him as seen from his boat the Busted Flush. Travis McGee is a man wanting to withdraw from the world but is forever being pulled back into it by the people he calls friends, whether they are actually so, merely acquaintances for whom he has a certain emotional connection or the true kind with whom one somehow loses touch. He doesn't want to get involved, but he does for them because they need him. As with his sexual encounters, there's always an apartness, as if he's withholding part of himself even in that intimacy of intimacies. There is sex but, like the violence, it's described so poetically one can't actually be certain it has happened or is merely in the McGee's mind, as he dissects it and his emotions concerning it. He's a man who loves, within limits, not cold or predatory, but reserving wholehearted commitment, never giving that last bit which will completely fulfill. It's as if he's waiting for the one person who will provide the spark to melt the barrier he's put around his own life and give him the final excuse to enter our world again.
Look for the moment in which the title phrase is brought into play.
The ending is another bittersweet McDonald ending but as usual, it pulls the reader back to look for another Travis McGee story.
This novel is owned by the reviewer and no remuneratiin was involved in the writing of this review.
Thus he and we, the readers, are catapulted into a tale of drug smuggling, murder, a serial rapist, and the inevitable hand-to-hand combat with the killer, in this case involving a jeep, a backhoe, and a dead horse. While the villains McGee meets are egotistical and not easily brought down, the women are also some of the toughest and usually just as wicked and cold-blooded as the men in what they want and what they'll do to get it...no sweet simpering ladies here.
Through it all McGee's world-weary and philosophical first person POV narrative brings to us the beauty and the ugliness existing around him as seen from his boat the Busted Flush. Travis McGee is a man wanting to withdraw from the world but is forever being pulled back into it by the people he calls friends, whether they are actually so, merely acquaintances for whom he has a certain emotional connection or the true kind with whom one somehow loses touch. He doesn't want to get involved, but he does for them because they need him. As with his sexual encounters, there's always an apartness, as if he's withholding part of himself even in that intimacy of intimacies. There is sex but, like the violence, it's described so poetically one can't actually be certain it has happened or is merely in the McGee's mind, as he dissects it and his emotions concerning it. He's a man who loves, within limits, not cold or predatory, but reserving wholehearted commitment, never giving that last bit which will completely fulfill. It's as if he's waiting for the one person who will provide the spark to melt the barrier he's put around his own life and give him the final excuse to enter our world again.
Look for the moment in which the title phrase is brought into play.
The ending is another bittersweet McDonald ending but as usual, it pulls the reader back to look for another Travis McGee story.
This novel is owned by the reviewer and no remuneratiin was involved in the writing of this review.
October 8, 2025
When I first read The Dreadful Lemon Sky, I appreciated it as a well-written but depressing crime novel. On re-reading the book years later, I now realize that John D. MacDonald was up to more than writing a time-capsule noir about Florida in the early Seventies. While the book mentions such artifacts as an orange Datsun, a yellow Gremlin, plaid pants, and "quadraphonic sound," it's ultimately a story about human connections.
More specifically, The Dreadful Lemon Sky uses the investigation of a suicide-that-wasn't to explore why we make some connections and miss others. Insight about human motivation often comes in musings by Travis McGee, the "salvage consultant" and beach bum who plays detective-on-a-houseboat in this and other MacDonald novels.
MacDonald is skillful about having McGee voice truths that sound pedestrian at first, but must be reassessed when they are later validated by McGee's friend Meyer, or by the people with whom McGee and Meyer interact while investigating nefariousness.
In other words, while this book is unmistakably tethered to its late-hippie era, it's also better than the average mystery.
More specifically, The Dreadful Lemon Sky uses the investigation of a suicide-that-wasn't to explore why we make some connections and miss others. Insight about human motivation often comes in musings by Travis McGee, the "salvage consultant" and beach bum who plays detective-on-a-houseboat in this and other MacDonald novels.
MacDonald is skillful about having McGee voice truths that sound pedestrian at first, but must be reassessed when they are later validated by McGee's friend Meyer, or by the people with whom McGee and Meyer interact while investigating nefariousness.
In other words, while this book is unmistakably tethered to its late-hippie era, it's also better than the average mystery.
January 4, 2018
It's always fun when reading John MacDonald's novels to see when and where he is going to incorporate the book's title into the story. This one came up unexpectedly. I'm not able to read the series chronologically....this is book 16. Oddly enough, this one doesn't make any references to people or places from past stories or experiences. It takes place in a different Florida location than his other stories that I have read. There were some twists and turns that kept it interesting. The writing, as usual, is excellent.
August 27, 2011
Picked this up in a used bookstore. It was written in the '70s, book number 16 in John D MacDonald's Travis McGee series. I've read one other McGee book and enjoyed it. This one was great also. I miss Robert B. Parker and might start stocking up on this older MacDonald books. The slueths are somewhat similar. It's nice to read a mystery where you don't have to keep up with modern technology all the time. It didn't exist in the '70s. Just fun.
August 12, 2012
One of many John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee novels. They are a collection of exciting adventures taking place in South Florida. I have always thought that MacDonald was the Gary Grant of fast paced mystery books. He makes it look so easy but every one knows that there is a special art to writing that moves so smoothly across the page. If you want fun as well as some homespun philosphy, take a Travis McGee to the beach or any other vacation spot. You will not regret it.
February 18, 2017
I liked this one quite a bit. There were multiple victims, and multiple criminals. The woman McGee worked for and the woman he slept with were not wholly innocent folks. They were complicated people, and McGee figures their whole mess out at great harm to himself (as usual.)
Also, an introduction to fire ants, something we native Floridians can appreciate. Ouch!
Also, an introduction to fire ants, something we native Floridians can appreciate. Ouch!
November 13, 2009
This was the first of the Travis McGee books that I read. I loved it, read the rest of the series and moved to Florida.
June 28, 2015
#36 from macdonald and the 4th travis mcgee story...out-of-sequence...have read the first three now this one. started yesterday,
20 may 15. finished yesterday A Purple Place for Dying
travis's friend from florida, meyer, has a curious role in this story. a tad more than holmes's watson, but that's the drift. writing this after eight chapters read. in the previous story noted above meyer is nothing more than a mention. macdonald also uses another tool used in the previous and to more or less the same degree, the death of a dame, the search of her apartment. there does seem to be a different sound to this story, from 1974, a decade after a purple place for dying.
drugs, specifically pot, in florida, coming into florida, plays a role.
more later maybe.
later
22 may 15, finished. good story. travis and meyer, the economist, one of the lesser political parties, solving the mystery. it does follow a line with the assorted hiccups. said in an earlier macdonald review about a mcgee story that i was coming off a john sandford ride...and sandford's lucas davenport series of prey stories, i think, are a shade better than what i've read so far about travis mcgee. that's not to say these are "bad"...simply a quality judgement nothing more nothing less. sandford has a pile of "prey" stories and i've wondered how he was/is able to keep that story 'fresh'. same thing going on here, curious, this one not in sequence, using some of the same hiccups from the mcgee story i read before this one...a storyline that is essentially straight-forward and relatively simple...no big complications, no twists to speak about...good story nothing more nothing less.
time place scene setting
* the busted flush, travis's barge-like houseboat, bahia mar marina, fort lauderdale, florida
* may 16th, a thursday...june 15th
* 'bama girl, the alabama tiger's boat, party boat
* 1500 seaway boulevard, bayside florida...bayside is where the majority of the action takes place
* time is noted: two weeks went by
* time is noted by a calendar date and a day, noted above and 6th of june...9 june, june 10th...so the story's telling takes place over a relatively short period of time, a month or so...many of dean koontz stories i've read involve time periods of a day or less. time is relative. if the story moves, shakes and bakes, time has little meaning. if it is immediate and now.
* county road 858 called avenida de flores, where carrie was killed in a pedestrian vehicle accident
* westway harbor in bayside, where travis docks with meyer
* superior building supplies, where carrie worked with others
* mangrove lane
* rucker funeral home
* omaha house, carolridge subdivision
* a bertram 46-footer, the christina iii, jack omaha's boat
* munequita travis's other boat
* nutley, new jersey, where susie dorovsky resides
* fred van harn's ranch west of bayside, grove land, the old carpenter ranch, 1200 acres i think i read.
* hospital...i.c.u.
* pineview lakes estates, 21 loblolly lane
* the wanderer, a boat where jason and ollie/oliver live, share space
* north shore of grand bahama...drugs offloaded by plane here to waiting boat
* ritchie, a new hire at the marina after the death of cal
characters
* travis mcgee, our hero
* meyer, his friend from florida
* carolyn "carrie" milligan, 30-year-old, carrie "dee" dobrovsky, six years ago is the last time she'd seen travis. she'd been married to a ben and travis allowed them to use his houseboat to honeymoon. she has come into some money, ($94,200, plus ten-grand for trav) wants travis to hold it for her, wants him to send it along to her younger sister, susie, 23-year-old, if he doesn't hear back from her.
* susan "susie" dobrovsky, from nutley, new jersey, is 23 to her older sister's 30 years. she teaches nursery school.
* roderick webbel, the driver of the truck that killed carried on state road 858
* oliver tarbeck, worker at the westway harbor, bayside, florida
* cal & cindy birdsong, owners & operators of westway harbor, established two years ago
* jason breen, another worker at the westway harbor, also compared to jesus-jason.
* jack omaha, one of the partners at superior building supplies, that is going-out-of-business, money problems, jack has disappeared
* chris omaha, jack's wife
* flossie speck, betty joller, two girls with whom carrie shared an apartment. betty is secretary to president of the bayside lumber company.
* joanna freeler, another girl who lived with carrie, co-worker at superior building supplies
* fred "freddy" "ready-freddy" van harn, lawyer, for everyone it seems, womanizer, whatever that means and it means he's like bill clinton and can't keep his pecker in his pants
* b.j. rucker, senior, owner & operator of rucker funeral home
* walter j demos...management at 1500 seaway boulevard, part of the big amateur drug cartel, customers in the apartments, liked to kojak, a detective from the late-60s, early-70s television series by the same name
* jane schermer, the betrothed of fast freddie, ready-freddie, nice of the judge, rich wealthy grove owner
minor characters, name-only, setting characters, so forth
* tv crew at bahia mar
* alabama tiger
* early morning shift
* ben's momma
* dake heath, carrie's 1/2 brother
* two tall young ladies
* irv diebert
* johnny dow, johnny & irv friends/neibhgors of travis in florida with whom he makes arrangements, mail and such
* a yuk who had pounded by us
* the people aboard were yelping like maniacs
* albert eide parr, a friend of meyer's...a writer apparently, somewhat philosophical
* a very jumpy resltess lady, judy, travis explained one of meyer's theories to her this once upon a time
* ralph & arthur, two police who showed at the marina
* dewey of dewey's pizza, three truck drivers, put in hospital by cal
* ambulance attendants
* some little girls went creaking & grinding past (on ten-speeds)
* somebody was using some kind of lawn machinery
* a woman opened the door
* phone truck man
* a cursing grannie...mall...travis took the best parking spot before her, alas
* a small black man was listlessly rubbing a black hearse
* a chubby sallow fellow
* an old man was riding a little blue power mower, sherman howe
* mabel howe, his wife
* one drunk sonofabitch, the gospel from howe
* ambulance, medical fellow
* wrecker fellow
* webbel's father & brother
* ray took it out...wrecker operator the night carrie was struck by truck
* boo brodey, a guy who ran a drug/pot running story past travis, in the past, wanting travis to go in with him, or direct, or whatever
* seven young ladies in long pastel dresses
* a young man stepped out of the group, red beard...robby, an architect, and he says a few words at carrie's service, the pastel ladies drop flowers into the water
* a pair of small round white-haired people in bright boat clothes
* a brazilian lady...who went with the busted flush that travis won in a poker game...he didn't take the lady, just the flush
* walt kelly?
* doc stanyard
* a pretty lady in jeans and work shirt and tousled hairdo--lillian, opens door at #60 seaway boulevard, walter demos's apartment there
* mary ferris in #21 at 1500 seaway boulevard, as is lillin, above
* "sixteen weeks" a certain specialist that travis tells walter demos about, specializes in questions and answers. hoorah.
* edith...name mentioned in association with 1500 seaway boulevard
* doctor hubert owings (no pun, i'm certain)
* captain harry max scorf, bayside city and county law enforcement
* mr smith...a man who lives on in or near fred van harn's ranch and is some kind of...something...a man concerned about who drives down the road to the ranch, i guess.
* sultan, a horse, put to death by the bad man
* graciela, another horse
* harvey...frank simmons, deputies
* tanned skinny boys
real people, real fictional folk, famous, rich, powerful, ancient
* a santayana quote before story opens: life is not a spectacle or a feast: it is a predicament
* bonnie & clyde
* the godfather
* marshall dillon (of the "gunsmoke" television series, 60s)
* harry truman
* homer
* kojak
* lawrence of arabia
* jesus
* popeye, hitler, john wayne...drug dealers in jamaica
* ruby braff & george barnes? jazz folk
* csonka (a football player for the miami dolphins during the...70s?)
* abe lincoln
* caesar
* syd solomon...painter?
* jesus h sufferin christ
* walt kelly...who was a clown? i think? joanna misses him...in association with "dagnab blue eyed own"...so forth so on.
story begins
i was in deep sleep, alone aboard my houseboat, alone in the half acre of bed, alone in a sweaty dream of chase, fear, and monstrous predators. a shot rang off steel bars. another. i came bursting up out of sleep to hear the secretive sound of the little bell which rings at my bedside when anyone steps aboard the busted flush. it was almost four in the morning.
20 may 15. finished yesterday A Purple Place for Dying
travis's friend from florida, meyer, has a curious role in this story. a tad more than holmes's watson, but that's the drift. writing this after eight chapters read. in the previous story noted above meyer is nothing more than a mention. macdonald also uses another tool used in the previous and to more or less the same degree, the death of a dame, the search of her apartment. there does seem to be a different sound to this story, from 1974, a decade after a purple place for dying.
drugs, specifically pot, in florida, coming into florida, plays a role.
more later maybe.
later
22 may 15, finished. good story. travis and meyer, the economist, one of the lesser political parties, solving the mystery. it does follow a line with the assorted hiccups. said in an earlier macdonald review about a mcgee story that i was coming off a john sandford ride...and sandford's lucas davenport series of prey stories, i think, are a shade better than what i've read so far about travis mcgee. that's not to say these are "bad"...simply a quality judgement nothing more nothing less. sandford has a pile of "prey" stories and i've wondered how he was/is able to keep that story 'fresh'. same thing going on here, curious, this one not in sequence, using some of the same hiccups from the mcgee story i read before this one...a storyline that is essentially straight-forward and relatively simple...no big complications, no twists to speak about...good story nothing more nothing less.
time place scene setting
* the busted flush, travis's barge-like houseboat, bahia mar marina, fort lauderdale, florida
* may 16th, a thursday...june 15th
* 'bama girl, the alabama tiger's boat, party boat
* 1500 seaway boulevard, bayside florida...bayside is where the majority of the action takes place
* time is noted: two weeks went by
* time is noted by a calendar date and a day, noted above and 6th of june...9 june, june 10th...so the story's telling takes place over a relatively short period of time, a month or so...many of dean koontz stories i've read involve time periods of a day or less. time is relative. if the story moves, shakes and bakes, time has little meaning. if it is immediate and now.
* county road 858 called avenida de flores, where carrie was killed in a pedestrian vehicle accident
* westway harbor in bayside, where travis docks with meyer
* superior building supplies, where carrie worked with others
* mangrove lane
* rucker funeral home
* omaha house, carolridge subdivision
* a bertram 46-footer, the christina iii, jack omaha's boat
* munequita travis's other boat
* nutley, new jersey, where susie dorovsky resides
* fred van harn's ranch west of bayside, grove land, the old carpenter ranch, 1200 acres i think i read.
* hospital...i.c.u.
* pineview lakes estates, 21 loblolly lane
* the wanderer, a boat where jason and ollie/oliver live, share space
* north shore of grand bahama...drugs offloaded by plane here to waiting boat
* ritchie, a new hire at the marina after the death of cal
characters
* travis mcgee, our hero
* meyer, his friend from florida
* carolyn "carrie" milligan, 30-year-old, carrie "dee" dobrovsky, six years ago is the last time she'd seen travis. she'd been married to a ben and travis allowed them to use his houseboat to honeymoon. she has come into some money, ($94,200, plus ten-grand for trav) wants travis to hold it for her, wants him to send it along to her younger sister, susie, 23-year-old, if he doesn't hear back from her.
* susan "susie" dobrovsky, from nutley, new jersey, is 23 to her older sister's 30 years. she teaches nursery school.
* roderick webbel, the driver of the truck that killed carried on state road 858
* oliver tarbeck, worker at the westway harbor, bayside, florida
* cal & cindy birdsong, owners & operators of westway harbor, established two years ago
* jason breen, another worker at the westway harbor, also compared to jesus-jason.
* jack omaha, one of the partners at superior building supplies, that is going-out-of-business, money problems, jack has disappeared
* chris omaha, jack's wife
* flossie speck, betty joller, two girls with whom carrie shared an apartment. betty is secretary to president of the bayside lumber company.
* joanna freeler, another girl who lived with carrie, co-worker at superior building supplies
* fred "freddy" "ready-freddy" van harn, lawyer, for everyone it seems, womanizer, whatever that means and it means he's like bill clinton and can't keep his pecker in his pants
* b.j. rucker, senior, owner & operator of rucker funeral home
* walter j demos...management at 1500 seaway boulevard, part of the big amateur drug cartel, customers in the apartments, liked to kojak, a detective from the late-60s, early-70s television series by the same name
* jane schermer, the betrothed of fast freddie, ready-freddie, nice of the judge, rich wealthy grove owner
minor characters, name-only, setting characters, so forth
* tv crew at bahia mar
* alabama tiger
* early morning shift
* ben's momma
* dake heath, carrie's 1/2 brother
* two tall young ladies
* irv diebert
* johnny dow, johnny & irv friends/neibhgors of travis in florida with whom he makes arrangements, mail and such
* a yuk who had pounded by us
* the people aboard were yelping like maniacs
* albert eide parr, a friend of meyer's...a writer apparently, somewhat philosophical
* a very jumpy resltess lady, judy, travis explained one of meyer's theories to her this once upon a time
* ralph & arthur, two police who showed at the marina
* dewey of dewey's pizza, three truck drivers, put in hospital by cal
* ambulance attendants
* some little girls went creaking & grinding past (on ten-speeds)
* somebody was using some kind of lawn machinery
* a woman opened the door
* phone truck man
* a cursing grannie...mall...travis took the best parking spot before her, alas
* a small black man was listlessly rubbing a black hearse
* a chubby sallow fellow
* an old man was riding a little blue power mower, sherman howe
* mabel howe, his wife
* one drunk sonofabitch, the gospel from howe
* ambulance, medical fellow
* wrecker fellow
* webbel's father & brother
* ray took it out...wrecker operator the night carrie was struck by truck
* boo brodey, a guy who ran a drug/pot running story past travis, in the past, wanting travis to go in with him, or direct, or whatever
* seven young ladies in long pastel dresses
* a young man stepped out of the group, red beard...robby, an architect, and he says a few words at carrie's service, the pastel ladies drop flowers into the water
* a pair of small round white-haired people in bright boat clothes
* a brazilian lady...who went with the busted flush that travis won in a poker game...he didn't take the lady, just the flush
* walt kelly?
* doc stanyard
* a pretty lady in jeans and work shirt and tousled hairdo--lillian, opens door at #60 seaway boulevard, walter demos's apartment there
* mary ferris in #21 at 1500 seaway boulevard, as is lillin, above
* "sixteen weeks" a certain specialist that travis tells walter demos about, specializes in questions and answers. hoorah.
* edith...name mentioned in association with 1500 seaway boulevard
* doctor hubert owings (no pun, i'm certain)
* captain harry max scorf, bayside city and county law enforcement
* mr smith...a man who lives on in or near fred van harn's ranch and is some kind of...something...a man concerned about who drives down the road to the ranch, i guess.
* sultan, a horse, put to death by the bad man
* graciela, another horse
* harvey...frank simmons, deputies
* tanned skinny boys
real people, real fictional folk, famous, rich, powerful, ancient
* a santayana quote before story opens: life is not a spectacle or a feast: it is a predicament
* bonnie & clyde
* the godfather
* marshall dillon (of the "gunsmoke" television series, 60s)
* harry truman
* homer
* kojak
* lawrence of arabia
* jesus
* popeye, hitler, john wayne...drug dealers in jamaica
* ruby braff & george barnes? jazz folk
* csonka (a football player for the miami dolphins during the...70s?)
* abe lincoln
* caesar
* syd solomon...painter?
* jesus h sufferin christ
* walt kelly...who was a clown? i think? joanna misses him...in association with "dagnab blue eyed own"...so forth so on.
story begins
i was in deep sleep, alone aboard my houseboat, alone in the half acre of bed, alone in a sweaty dream of chase, fear, and monstrous predators. a shot rang off steel bars. another. i came bursting up out of sleep to hear the secretive sound of the little bell which rings at my bedside when anyone steps aboard the busted flush. it was almost four in the morning.
October 27, 2017
This was the audio version of a title I read in my teens when I had a phase of interest in John D. MacDonald and Donald Westlake mysteries. This is a terrific recording (Brilliance Audio) with prompts for the end of the disc, musical notification of the end of the disc, and each disc after disc 1 has about 30 seconds of the end of the previous disc to restart the story. Robert Petkoff is the voice performer, and he displays excellent vocal range portraying McGee and the rest of the characters, including the female parts. Brilliant!
Like time-travelling back to the 1970s. Reading with more modern eyes (actually, listening), it's easy to dismiss the carefree and kind of sexist writing of the period as a regrettable period in modern writing. McGee closely resembles any number of rootless antiheros like Jack Reacher; indeed, he may well have created the genre, or at least evolved it forward from the Dashiell Hammet or Raymond Chandler period (Sam Spade, Philip Marlowe).
The plot is twisty with plenty of motives and red-herrings to sort through. Plus, there are several criminal agendas in play. I won't say more.
Like time-travelling back to the 1970s. Reading with more modern eyes (actually, listening), it's easy to dismiss the carefree and kind of sexist writing of the period as a regrettable period in modern writing. McGee closely resembles any number of rootless antiheros like Jack Reacher; indeed, he may well have created the genre, or at least evolved it forward from the Dashiell Hammet or Raymond Chandler period (Sam Spade, Philip Marlowe).
The plot is twisty with plenty of motives and red-herrings to sort through. Plus, there are several criminal agendas in play. I won't say more.
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