Stuff I Like in the Recent Books

I've spent a lot of time recently detailing my objections to the direction in which the Cat Who... series is headed. Those criticisms stand, but in order to balance the ledger a bit, I've decided to enumerate the elements I do think have been successful in the past few books (from Tailed a Thief on).

• Maggie Sprenkle. She doesn't do much, admittedly, but she doesn't really need to, as she adds a welcome touch of gentle charm (and old-fashioned class) just by showing up. A lovely woman, and her lady cats peering out their little window perches at the daily goings-on below is enchanting.

• Wetherby Goode. Wetherby's character has an energy to it that I can't quite put my finger on. The man's jokey and always happy (except when it's called for, of course - upon Lynette's death, for example, to which he reacted with weighty, honest chagrin and anger). He has a genuinely-amiable-toward-everyone personality that's a bit reminiscent of the old Qwilleran (the "old" Qwilleran - I hate having to say that). Somehow, he stands out from the crowd of new characters. And he and Qwilleran have a nice mutual rapport and pallsy-ness with each other, probably due to the fact that they're the same age - it's good to have someone older for Qwilleran to throw theories around with. (Not that I'm at all against Qwill conversing with younger folk like Nick or Roger, both of whom can be excellent sounding boards and are, after all, stronger characters than Wetherby. I'm just saying it's nice to have this extra character dynamic thrown into the mix.)

• Earnest, dumb-helpful Ruff Abbey, killed off way too soon. He would've provided some nice little throwaway humor had he lived, perhaps with a walk-on every book or so.

• Polly's character renovation, particularly salient in Smelled a Rat. I know I seem to be alone on this, but I truly enjoyed the development of a brighter, feistier, and, at the same time, more practical-minded personality in her, someone who can roll with the punches - and land a few herself - instead of nursing petty, baseless grudges. In Smelled a Rat, I could honestly and unequivocally say that I liked her - a level-headed and confident but amiable and funny woman with whom one could identify. (The ironic thing is that this Polly would be a splendid mate for the old Qwill but now provides a refreshing foil for the new, jerky Qwill and a down-to-earth person to identify with in our old reliable hero's absence.) In a way, this is a logical character evolution; jealousy is deep-seated in insecurity, and now that Polly seems to have dealt with the most terrible and controlling of her jealousy issues, it speaks to a new self-assurance in her personality how she's breezily lobbing playful retorts back at Qwill over the breakfast table. Isn't that preferable to her silently disapproving, seething-in-the-corner act of previous books?
  (As for veteran birdwatcher Polly revolting at a (very large and vivid) picture of a bird "torturing a helpless fellow creature" in a reenactment of rudimentary facts of the food chain - well, I'm partially chalking that up to a writing lapse. But I jumped up and cheered at the scene nonetheless, and I think the honesty of it - and the sheer necessity of it - partially excuses it. Qwilleran desperately needed to be called on that outrageously grotesque "artwork".)

• The van chase at the end of Tailed a Thief. I realize it's a bit jejune to get excited by car chases, but the whole idea of Wetherby and Qwill physically taking up hot pursuit of two criminals (during a flood, no less, and in a vehicle as goofily ungainly as a van commandeered by a middle-aged journalist and the local weatherman) had a giddy (but genuine) tension to it. (I was going to say I wish the scene'd been longer, but upon reflection I think it may have been just the right length.)

• Phoebe's plight. Only upon a reread of Sang for the Birds did I fully realize how sadly, sweetly fragile and pathetic she was, and how horrible was her whole wretched fate. Though the fact of her imperilment figured in as a plot point, her personal tale was never fully addressed - always glimpsed at in the background, half-elided by the narrative's lens, always subservient to some other, supposedly more important plot development, neither it nor the girl herself ever being a priority - and thus lurks as a sort of shadow story in Sang for the Birds. But just the simple presentation here of a sweet, sunny girl who merely wanted to be happy, paint her butterflies, and spread a little light in the world, to whom no one paid attention when she needed it, and who got senselessly killed is effective whether the book itself properly acknowledges it or not.

• The description of the Mackintosh Inn. Gorgeous, lovingly-detailed sense of place, and what a place it is. A moment that stands up among the best of the entire series.

• The Lenny/Boze stuff in Robbed a Bank, particularly the heartbreaking final scene (Qwill's unforgivable behavior notwithstanding). I've detailed the exact reasons for my appreciation of it previously, but praise for the excellent character portrayals, how their actions, reactions, and choices of words so skillfully communicated exactly what Lenny and Boze were thinking and feeling all throughout without even the benefit of omniscient narration, deserves reiteration.

• The whole "I'm Joe Buzzard, ex-cop" routine in Robbed a Bank. Unusually farcical for this series, and, as has been pointed out, in older books, the scene would've been used to further the mystery plot in some greater capacity, but still hilarious, especially with the punchline of Qwilleran being stultifyingly bored at the super-secret party he so sought to infiltrate.

• The haiku in Smelled a Rat, which offered several blissful examples of how well the author truly can write.

• The basic concept of the plot of Smelled a Rat, if not the execution.

• Qwill/Polly/Arch/Mildred conversations and excursions, particularly those to social events or restaurants, which have remained reliable for an entertaining time at least in the moment.

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