NYPO'd
This entry was posted on 12/7/2006 1:41 AM and is filed under Literature.
12/7/06: Nelson DeMille: The Cannibal (1975)
[Language advisory]
We saw an ad for the new Nelson DeMille book, and the copy was all
about this terrifying government plot that the author had
fictionalized. It was apparent that DeMille has written one of those
novels where evil American right-wingers hatch a complex plot to
exploit innocent Muslims. In his defense, DeMille might have just been
anticipating the inevitable Hollywood adaptation.
Still, we prefer the Nelson DeMille who used to write under the name of
“Jack Cannon.” The popular novelist has expressed embarrassment over
his ’70s pulp novels about Detective Joe Ryker. We say that these books
are DeMille’s crowning achievement.
First, some history: DeMille wrote six books between 1974 and 1975
about a hard-boiled NYPD detective. While the character stayed the
same, his name changed when DeMille switched publishers. That was fixed
in 1989, when Pocket Books reprinted all of DeMille’s pulpy
greatness—edited so that our hero was consistently Detective Joe Ryker.
While cops on network television were rapping with homeless people,
Ryker was still disgusted by the bums who dared to sleep on his
sidewalks. Forget what you’ve heard about today's New York being all
shiny and clean. The city’s simply got a segregated nightlife. Ordinary
folks like us are out at 3 a.m., and we still have to live in Ryker’s
hellhole. These books are more relevant than ever.
We reserve the right to individually write up each Ryker adventure. For
now, suffice to say that Ryker’s the kind of cop who’s not interested
in being a social worker or a bureaucrat. One book even ends when Ryker
rids the city of a homicidal maniac sent by a religious cult—and then
doesn’t care when the cult responds by sending out another killer.
Ryker’s decided that the cult has pretty good taste in victims.
The Cannibal remains our personal favorite. It’s about—well, a
cannibal who slinks around the sewers of Chinatown because he likes
Asian food. Here are a few classic moments:
[Ryker has seen a prisoner drinking coffee, and expresses his displeasure to a fellow detective]
“Who’s making breakfast for all the stiffs at the M.E.’s office this
morning? Listen, after the court gets these bums, they all get a slap
on the ass and a note sent home to their mothers. But while they’re in
my lockup, they don’t get shit. Understand? Not a glass of water. Not a
‘good morning’ and not even a cot after 6 a.m. No men’s–room
privileges, either. Let them use the buckets. Got it?”
“The Civil Liberties Union—“
“Fuck them.” Ryker leaned over his desk. “Someday I’ll get those pricks in my lockup too.”
***
[Ryker considers the plight of the homeless]
Wheezer and his main squeeze Emily were snitches he had used almost
five years before. They had been more trouble than they were worth, and
Ryker had hardly noticed when they had stopped bothering him except
that their disappearance had improved the quality of his life and the
lives of everyone around him.
***
[A professor explains multiculturalism to Ryker]
“I’m an anthropologist. I just study the social customs of the human
race. I don’t condone or condemn. People are different all over the
world. Variety is the spice of life. Do you know that there are
primitive societies where homosexuality is openly practiced, where
women rule the men, where incest between brother and sister is common,
and where everyone lives in the same hut and shares food, wives, and
clothing?”
“Sounds like my neighborhood.”
Make it your own: Every page is a winner with Ryker. Sadly, the
days are long gone when you could purchase the complete works of Jack
Cannon at the $1 store. Now you’re stuck looking for out-of-print
editions, and they’re getting way too expensive through the usual
online outlets. At least
The Sniper
can currently be found cheap on Amazon. Forget about finding the
earlier editions—even though you’d be spared Pocket Books’ strangely
metrosexual cover art.
