John D. MacDonald had already written dozens of novels when, at 47, he launched his only series and most famous character, Travis McGee. A lot of who we know McGee to be is present in the first book, “The Deep Blue Good-by” (1964), and I get a sense McGee is MacDonald – at least on the inside. Certainly, both live on houseboats on the Florida coast.
In a novel that wouldn’t sit well with some branches of feminism, “Good-by’s” women are plot drivers and objects, and – though characterized with thoughts and troubles – painted as decidedly other than narrator McGee. They are human, and range from strong to weak, so the character creation is there – more so than the male villain Junior Allen, who is simply terrifyingly insane – but “Good-by” could be a target for criticism of male-gaze fiction.
At times it reads like a male answer to a Harlequin romance novel, as McGee beds, has opportunities with, or is offered a shot at, five distinct women. Even James Bond would be exhausted. McGee accepts this case through Chook, a floor-show dancer with marriage troubles who seduces him in a soapy bath aboard his Busted Flush. (Gentlemanly, he declines.)
“The Deep Blue Good-by” (1964)
Author: John D. MacDonald
Series: Travis McGee No. 1
Genre: Hardboiled mystery
Setting: Fort Lauderdale, Fla., 1964
Chook leads him to another dancer, Cathy, who had a family treasure stolen from her by Junior, who was using her in a long con. (And we’re told the rule that holds for all 21 books: If he recovers the jewels stolen from Cathy, he keeps half the value as his fee.) Travis then meets Lois, who was conned by Junior before Cathy, and teenage Patty, who is the next intended victim.
McGee meets his foil
As Junior prowls for prey, McGee prowls around protecting them, or being annoyed that his worries are distracting him in an investigation that takes him to Texas. Here we see his ability to out-alpha a cocky Air Force veteran. McGee is the muscular, wise but often headstrong protector of women — he nurses the alcoholic Lois back to health – and the dominator of men. He hates himself on both counts.
MacDonald’s eye for detail is most evident in his descriptions of women. When describing Deeleen, an older friend of Patty, McGee notes how she looks good in a swimsuit from a distance, but upon close inspection he sees all the ways her body has been used up. Though uncomfortably intrusive (and the author would back off on hyper-detail down the road), it gives us a strikingly grimy picture of certain beach girls: Get what you can from the world while you are attractive and desirable. As for what to do after that – who knows.
A more psychologically complex version of Junior – and one more personal to McGee — would pop up far down the road in “Cinnamon Skin.” For now, we have a straight foil. Junior and McGee are both tough – as seen in their vicious brawl, as thoroughly described as Deeleen’s body – but Junior is unencumbered by morality.
McGee, in the Marlowe mold, is encumbered. His friend Meyer isn’t in play yet as a sounding board. Instead we meet a houseboat neighbor who throws a perpetual party with beach girls, plus a convenient plot helper. It’s not good that McGee has no one to talk to. Except the readers … and I’m glad he’s talking to me. “The Deep Blue Good-by” is not polished, but likewise not tentative. It’s a confident hello.
Sleuthing Sunday reviews the works of Agatha Christie, along with other new and old classics of the mystery genre.