The Burglar in the Rye by Lawrence Block, a review

The book: Worth reading, as long as you are not my offspring

The author: Worth reading again

Review:

Unbeknownst to me when I picked up The Burglar in the Rye, the book is actually written from the perspective of the burglar. (I had picked it up thinking it might be a mystery centered around a burglary instead of murder. The title amused me with its homage to J. D. Salinger, too.) It turns out that I quickly became enamored of such a perspective.

To be fair to Bernie Rhodenbarr, the burglar in question, he does actually run a legitimate bookstore on the side of his more nefarious endeavors. He also seems to have a knack for getting himself into rather oddball situations. I mean, I can certainly feel some pity for the hapless fool who winds up being startled mid-burglary and comes to the realization, while stuck in his hiding place, naturally, that he really has to pee. It was that sort of unexpected narration that actually made me giggle a number of times like the far-too-old-to-be-giggling-in-such-a-juvenile-manner woman that I am. So sue me. I found such things to be quite amusing.

I do not wish to say too much about the storyline here, although I personally doubt I could have figured out Whodunit on my own. Looking back on the book, I can safely say that Lawrence Block appears to be the type of author who glorifies in casually mentioning something seemingly unrelated to the main storyline that will later become the whole crux of the matter. Ultimately, I can say that Bernie must get to the bottom of a quest for privacy. Will he find, and be able to steal for himself, the famous letters written by the reclusive, mysterious Gully Fairborn, a rather famous author who clings desperately to a private life? Will he figure out who is the other involved thief? Will his closest friend Carolyn ever allow Bernie to drink his own alcoholic beverages, or will she continue to down them on his behalf? And finally, will he figure out who killed the individuals who were unfortunate enough to cross paths with Whodunit? (Yep. It figures. There had to be a murder or two thrown in there for good measure. So much for this being a story simply about a burglary!)

Lawrence Block appears, to me at any rate, to enjoy messing around with the reader's head. I had the impression that I would not have been able to solve this mystery on my own if I did not read another of his books first. If I had read another book first, I might have known that the seemingly unrelated tale casually told in a side story was actually the only part to which I really needed to pay attention. Ah, well. Live and learn. At least he was not as obnoxious as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who used to irk me when his Sherlock Holmes could figure out the mystery using clues to which the reader had no access. I like trying to figure out Whodunit sometimes. Now that I've read a Lawrence Block book, I feel I have a chance of figuring out Whodunit in another one of his writings.

I will note that this is not a murder mystery that I would feel comfortable allowing my ten-year-old to read. There are more than a few times where sex is not only alluded to, but characters actually describe what they overhear when a couple is going at it. Alcohol is also regularly consumed by a wide variety of characters, most of whom do wind up nursing hangovers the next day. This does not pass the "Overprotective Mommy" test, although I would probably peg it as about a PG-13 rating, as opposed to R or X, if the book was to play out in movie format.

All in all, the random chuckling I did throughout the book made this one an author I intend to hunt down and read once more. The narration by burglar was quite entertaining. He's quite the snarky character.