"Fog shrouded the canyon, a box canyon above a California town called Pima. It rained. Not hard rain but steady and grey and dismal. Shaggy pines loomed through the mist like threats. Sycamores made white twisted gestures above the arroyo. Down the arroyo water poured, ugly, angry and deep. The road shouldered the arroyo. It was a bad road. The rains had chewed its edges. There were holes. Mud and rock half buried it in places. It was steep and winding and there were no guard rails.He drove it with sweating hands. Why? His smile was sour. Why so careful? Wasn't death all he'd wanted for the past six weeks? His mouth tightened. That was finished. He'd made up his mind to live now. Hadn't he? Live and forget – at least until he could remember without pain. And that would happen someday. Sure it would. All the books said so. The sum of human wisdom. Meantime, he was working again.And here was the bridge. It was wooden, maybe thirty feet in span, ten feet wide. Heavy beams, thick planks, big iron bolts. Simple and strong.The right kind of bridge for this place."That is how Joseph Hansen introduces you to his long term series character Dave Brandstetter. I challenge you not to be excited over the content of this series after reading that. Hansen knew how to write this genre at the highest standard from the very beginning.Fadeout concerns singer, radio personality, writer, artist, Fox Olsen, who finds success late in life and is missing presumed dead after his car is found in a swollen river during heavy storms. Dave Brandstetter is the insurance agent sent to find a way not to pay out on the claim and in the course of his investigation unravels the mystery of the missing man by delving through layers of small town California society, layers of identity and layers of his own grief. The usual intrigue involving friends and family of the missing man can be found throughout but are presented in interesting and new ways and despite a final twenty pages or so as convoluted as they come Fadeout is a highly entertaining hardboiled whodunnit.As Alan Chin points out in his review Brandstetter was not the first gay sleuth, but he was the first healthy, gay detective that was utterly comfortable with his sexuality. He is as real a person as a crime fiction detective can be and this is what made the series standout at the time, almost as if Hansen/Brandstetter was making the point that "we're normal people, we can do anything a heterosexual male can do, even if that means being Philip Marlowe." Which of course is absolutely true and it would be easy to say forty years in to the future but America in the 70s was a time of turmoil and massive change, a theme I discuss in my recent overview of American hardboiled crime fiction of the period at blahblahblahgay and it must have caused a real uproar in the typical readers of the genre.Published six years after Isherwood's A Single Man Hansen managed to write both a fantastic, traditional hardboiled crime novel but also a masterly portrayal of loneliness and sexual obsession. The link to Isherwood is much more than they are both written by openly gay men about openly gay men; Brandstetter is essentially George, he is coming to terms with the death of his long term lover, he has a possibly insufferable single female friend who has made it her duty to protect him whilst leaning on him for her own support and a job which provides him with the occasional simple pleasure. The exploration of the depths of the human soul and its ability to triumph over loneliness, alienation and loss are all contained in Hansen's sharp and economical writing only without the same depth applied by the genius of Isherwood. But afterall this is a murder mystery and Hansen has an eye for the exactly relevant detail to include to remain faithful to his literary side without alienating the genre reader. "In twenty years you could say and do a lot you wish you hadn't. In twenty years you could store up a lot of regrets. And then, when it was too late, when there was no one left to say "I'm sorry" to, "I didn't mean it" to, you could stop sleeping for regret, stop eating, talking, working, for regret. You could stop wanting to live. You could want to die for regret.It was only remembering the good times that kept you from taking the knife from the kitchen drawer and, holding it so, tightly in your fist, on the bed, naked to no purpose except that that was how you came into the world and how your best moments in the world had been spent--holding it so, roll onto the blade, slowly so that it slid like love between your ribs and into that stupidly pumping muscle in your chest that kept you regretting."Great reference is made to Ross MacDonald by people reviewing or discussing this book and I can certainly see where they are coming from in terms of plot and even spare, fast paced writing style. Hansen's first Brandstetter novel is however a much more unique and pleasurable reading experience, than the early Lew Archer novels at least. Of course by the time of this debut outing for Brandstetter Ross MacDonald had given us fifteen Archer novels and so the comparison is admittedly a little weak or naive. What is certain however is that Hansen deserves more recognition from hardboiled fans, not because he broke down walls in the perception of gay society but because he was a damned fine writer of the genre.
Synopsis/blurb.....Fadeout is the first of Joseph Hansen's twelve classic mysteries featuring rugged Dave Brandstetter, an insurance investigator who is contentedly gay. When entertainer Fox Olson's car plunges off a bridge in a storm, a death claim is filed, but where is Olson's body? As Brandstetter questions family, fans, and detractors, he grows certain Olson is still alive and that Dave must find him before the would-be killer does. Suspenseful and wry, shrewd and deeply felt, Fadeout remains as fresh today as when it startled readers more than thirty years ago.Fadeout was July’s selected group read for the Pulp Fiction members on Goodreads. Originally published in 1970 and apparently one of the first PI series to feature a gay man as the protagonist. Truth be told, I would probably have remained ignorant of the book and dozen long series if it hadn’t cropped up on the monthly poll.Having stumbled a bit with my reading during June and proclaimed that my mojo was back, Fadeout at less than 200 pages long was the perfect book to zip through quickly. I may have been somewhat premature with my proclamation. No fault of Hansen, but it was incredibly difficult to immerse myself in Brandstetter’s case whilst there was Wimbledon tennis on the box, plus some planning activities required for both a family weekend away (just gone) and some quality couple time together next weekend – it’s not every day you celebrate 25 years of marriage! A tired, old joke.......but my better half would have served less time for murder!Back to Hansen and Brandstetter, once I concentrated on the story I found it enjoyable and interesting. Due to distractions previously mentioned I kind of stuttered through the first 50-60 pages before it began to flow for me. Dave Brandstetter was capable, likeable, believable and sympathetic, particularly as Hansen has him coping with the after-effects of losing his long-time partner of 20 years to cancer. I think a lot of time with PI fiction I need a personal element to sustain my interest in addition to the mystery case solving tack. On this occasion, Hansen succeeded admirably with both strands of the story and I will be reading more of Brandstetter in the future.As mentioned recently on a couple of notable crime fiction blog sites I visit, I do enjoy reading fiction from the pre-tech age, where people mail telegrams and write letters, probably something to do with my age, I guess. Note to self; I ought to read more police procedurals where there is more of a focus on a team as opposed to the solitary individual.4 from 5 I think I acquired my copy a month or so ago second hand from Amazon.
Do You like book Fadeout (2004)?
Dave Brandstetter is an insurance company investigator in charge of looking into difficult claims. When radio personality Fox Olson’s convertible plunges off a mountain road into a river, Brandstetter is called in to determine why nobody can find the body. Was it an accident? Suicide? Murder? Or is Fox alive and in hiding? And how does all this relate to the sudden reappearance of Olson’s war buddy.Brandstetter has his own demons to fight. He has recently lost his lover, and this is his first case after coming back onto the job after a number of months off to get over what he can’t get over.Olson lived in a small western town, one where everyone seemed to love him, and also where everyone has secrets. Brandstetter must expose all those secrets in order to uncover the truth and solve the case.In 1972 Joseph Hansen published the first of what would grow to twenty-five novels, twelve of which feature Dave Brandstetter as the hard edged, openly gay, thinking man’s investigator. Brandstetter was not the first gay sleuth, but he was the first healthy, gay detective that was utterly comfortable with his sexuality. He is as real a person as a novel character can be.The writing and pacing are superb. Hansen has been compared to Hammett, Ross MacDonald, and Chandler, and for good reasons. Although there are some plot twists that are obvious, there are plenty of surprises that keep the reader guessing to the last few pages. It is a moving, interesting, sure-handed book on every level. After four decades, every aspect of this story and the writing holds up. Hansen’s work is destined to be deemed classic. This is a story I can highly recommend to all readers who enjoy a good mystery.
—Alan
Rating: 4* of fiveThe Book Description: Fadeout is the first of Joseph Hansen's twelve classic mysteries featuring rugged Dave Brandstetter, an insurance investigator who is contentedly gay. When entertainer Fox Olson's car plunges off a bridge in a storm, a death claim is filed, but where is Olson's body? As Brandstetter questions family, fans, and detractors, he grows certain Olson is still alive and that Dave must find him before the would-be killer does. Suspenseful and wry, shrewd and deeply felt, Fadeout remains as fresh today as when it startled readers more than forty years ago.My Review: I've recently completed a re-read of all twelve Brandstetter books. Why the heck not, it beats writing a new ending for my own book, right? Especially a book I thought of as done, but...oh heck, never mind. My crazy mother bought this book when it came out because she liked mysteries. It was a little too hard-boiled for her, but she got the next three or so because she just loved the writing. When I was about 12, she handed this one to me when I expressed my joy at reading The Maltese Falcon with the offhand remark, "oh well then, this one'll slay ya."Wow. A gay OLD man! People like me before there was a me!!That really mattered to me, since there was such a lack of public and accepted gayness in the Austin of 1971. I remember knowing there were gay guys at the University because the sister who went there complained about it. I remember knowing the term "gay" from a friend of that same sister's who used it, and explained it when asked. The sister in question said, "oh geez he means queers, Rich, the faggots who mince around yelling about rights."My mother is not the only judgmental and nasty woman I grew up with.Well, that sort of interchange made Brandstetter all the more pleasurable for me to read! I loved him for being himself, despite his own father's disapproval, and for being a widower...a relationship ends before the series begins, and it was a revelation to me that such a relationship was *possible*. What a wonderful man Joseph Hansen must be, I thought, to create this unicorn of a character.As the mystery unfolds, Dave Brandstetter does too. He learns so much about the victim, and so much of that resonates with him...Dave just can't stop the grieving he's going through for his dead love from connecting him to the people in his life, even as he makes the honorable choice not to take comfort that's offered to him by someone even more vulnerable than he is.What I know now as someone older than the old man I thought Dave was in the book...Hansen knew what he was talking about when the subject is grief and grieving. Dave's pain made me weep as a kid. It does so much more to the grief-veteran old-man me...makes me sit, shocked, as I'm taken in to this most personal and intimate of places. Sex is less intimate than a person sharing this passage with you. As a re-reader, I had my initial youthful response in mind. Then the reality hit, and the impact was profound.When there's writing like this, storytelling like this, out there in the world, why are so many people gobbling down so much crap?
—Richard Reviles Censorship Always in All Ways
Fadeout -- HansenLet's face it, we never really grade on an absolute scale around here. For that matter, I'm not sure that's even possible anymore. Shakespeare would be around 20, and a few people would be between 1-5, and the rest would start under -30, tailing into the -70 range. We'd get lost in the infinite space between two rational numbers somewhere there, have to use a logarithmic scale, and I'm sure we'd have to divide by the square root of minus 1 to make it all come out even. I'm telling ya, the math would get hard.But this is not my usual grading on a curve for the genre/sub-genre, either.So on the current NS scale, i.e. the wednesday after the late tuesday night of reading scale, when I can't remember anything else scale, the completely overridden by emotion scale, Fadeout might just be the best MM book I've read. It is a remarkably lovely book on the absolute scale, too, the one where you put His Holy Shakespearan Highness up front, and feel depressed because they're all mostly dead, and will never write again, the good guys on this scale.Exhibit A:"In twenty years you could say and do a lot you wish you hadn't. In twenty years you could store up a lot of regrets. And then, when it was too late, when there was no one left to say "I'm sorry" to, "I didn't mean it" to, you could stop sleeping for regret, stop eating, talking, working, for regret. You could stop wanting to live. You could want to die for regret. It was only remembering the good times that kept you from taking the knife from the kitchen drawer and, holding it so, tightly in your fist, on the bed, naked to no purpose except that that was how you came into the world and how your best moments in the world had been spent--holding it so, roll onto the blade, slowly so that it slid like love between your ribs and into that stupidly pumping muscle in your chest that kept you regretting."There is no sex scene in this book. There is barely the start of an incipient sparkle of romance in his eye as a figure comes over the horizon, unexpectedly, into the life of our insurance investigator protagonist.What there is, however--a superbly etched out murder mystery--is all grace, quiet charm and elegance. Old school. So very the epitome of mid-twentieth century detective fiction (albeit written in 1970), so very much a window into the heart of Americana. You know that shelf upon which history keeps Jazz and baseball? Yes, that's where this belongs.
—ns
