Because they’re quick reads between more serious books — even more serious detectives, such as Ross Macdonald’s Lew Archer — I thought I’d revisit Ceremony, the beginning of the April Kyle saga from the Spenser series. It is interesting for not only its moral dilemma, but for a bridge between the early Spenser novels and later Spenser entries. Ceremony is where Spenser first meets teenager April Kyle, and her plight will resonate throughout the series.

This book came after Rachel Wallace, but before Valediction, where Parker turned away from an avenue which might have progressed the series into a higher echelon. In A Catskill Eagle, Parker decided to make this series more about the snobbish, cloying, and unhealthy — not to mention unrealistic — relationship between Spenser and Susan, and it became less than it could have been. It was still great as entertainment, but had to be enjoyed — and rated — on that level after Catskill Eagle.

Returning to Ceremony after reading some post-Valediction entries, the differences are striking. Hawk is edgier, yet more human, maybe even with a soft spot. This is the Hawk of Promised Land, starting to be fleshed out. There is a scene where he and Susan get the giggles at a bar which feels real, yet there are no thoughts in Spenser’s head of inviting him to Thanksgiving dinner. A greater distance between who Hawk is, and who Spenser is, still exists in Ceremony. Spenser stands aside when violent actions are called for, albeit kicking in a door or kicking in a head. While they’re together, it is Hawk who does most of the rough stuff. Only when pulling April out of a brothel, and in a brief exchange of blows with Tony Marcus, who is introduced in this entry, does Spenser become the instrument of violence. A later scene of a melee at an orgy is there more for entertainment sake and is not real violence, therefore doesn’t count.

Susan remains unchanged, but at this point in the series Parker paints her vanity and pretension in soft pastels, rather than bright bold acrylics that hurt the eyes. There’s still some of the psychobabble but it’s more generalized, and she’s less annoying in her certainties. This becomes ever more clear as the dilemma of what to do with April Kyle when Spenser finds her reaches an impasse. This is where Ceremony’s strong ties to Mortal Stakes, a very early entry in the series, come into play. It is, in fact, probably Spenser’s experience with Linda Rabb, a former prostitue able to leave that life behind when she married a Red Sox pitcher, Marty Rabb, which leads Spenser to a morally ambiguous solution. Out of options, Spenser sets April Kyle on the same course as Linda Rabb. Over time in the April Kyle saga, however, Parker came to terms with Spenser’s mistake, realizing April Kyle was not Linda Rabb. If the April Kyle saga had a theme song, it might be Dionne Warwick’s theme from Valley of the Dolls…

Parker allows us to sympathize early on with April Kyle as we meet her parents. The mother wants her back, the father doesn’t, because he’s seen her hooking in the Combat Zone — think the seedy part of Time’s Square — and is an obvious jerk. Susan has moved up from middle-school kids to high school counsellor in this one, and Spenser is only beginning to make her the center of both their worlds. He’s there talking with the parents to help Susan, and notes that if he were April Kyle, he’d want to run away too. It doesn’t take Spenser long to annoy a pimp, and need Hawk to watch his back while he searchers for her. It also doesn’t take long to realize there’s something more here than just a kid hooking, because Spenser and Hawk are having difficulty finding her, and that shouldn’t be…

There is more going on, and it involves Tony Marcus, who is introduced in this one. A threat to Susan is an excuse for Spenser to get in on the action, but it’s Hawk who does most of the heavy-lifting here, because this is pre-Catskill Eagle, when Spenser finally crossed those blurry lines, and abandoned moral codes in order to rescue Silverman from her own philandering, an event from which this series would never recover. There are some good post-Catskill Eagle reads, but they’re good as entertainment, and the talent Parker had for dialog and swift pacing. The echelon this series was headed for was one it never reached, as Spenser compromised himself. In doing so, maybe Parker did too.

There’s an unpleasantness here the reader can feel. Spenser feels it too, and all the despair with no solutions bothers him, much more than it does Hawk, who simply accepts it in stride. And yet Parker mitigates what should have been poignant moments, gritty truths, by that Boston-liberal hypocritical snobbishness; sure, he feels awful when Hawk reminds him there’s nowhere for a young black prostitute to go, but later, it doesn’t prevent him from making fun of another who’s just as lost, and been at it longer, because she’s wearing rayon K-Mart erotica. He does so while he’s getting her sloshed so he can find out why April Kyle has dropped off the radar screen. And after Velma has been slapped around by her pimp because of Spenser. Gratitude, kindness, where art thou?

These observations are only for the reader, however, because they cannot be spoken aloud by those whose charity and empathy are for public consumption. This general snobbishness became unbearable at times in the series, and is much worse in scenes where Spenser and Susan interact. If you aren’t all on board with Spenser and Susan’s hoity-toity food choices, and prefer a peanut butter sandwich on white bread to some exotic fruit chutney on Syrian bread, why, you’re just not one of their enlightened kind. It’s one of the things about the later entries especially, which got old in a hurry. The condescension became palpable when Spenser and Susan interacted, and it’s on display here, even if it is in smaller doses.

If you thought a sheep ranch was like a cattle ranch, but with sheep, you’ll discover it isn’t in this one. You’ll also learn that Spenser served in Korea, which is why he understands what it means when he finds a photo of April Kyle’s house on a wall. You’ll see a grittier but more human Hawk, before Spenser missed one opportunity after another to make him more. Once Parker turned the series into the Susan Silverman show, it was impossible to give anyone depth or real backstory because it would have detracted from Parker’s transparent snow job in regard to Susan Silverman.

This one boasts a less annoying Susan, an edgier Hawk, a plot — a loose definition — about those in positions of authority exploiting children, and the introduction of Tony Marcus, an interesting character in the series. It’s a good, quick read, and has its merits, like most Spenser entries. The results of Spenser’s ambiguous solution will play out in other books as the April Kyle saga, obviously a character about whom Parker cared a great deal, plays out over time.

On a technical note, this one had four or five obvious typos in the print edition, even after all these years. It doesn’t affect the reading in any way. A good, solid, early Spenser, and a glimmer of what might have been eventually, had the series not been derailed. Once it got back on the tracks, its literary destination had changed, and you can clearly see that by the contrast in this book, and much later entries. ( )

First edition very fine

Spenser is hired to find a missing girl and runs into all kinds of nasty people. Hawk, who is even tougher than Spenser, comes along to knock heads and ad sparkly dialog. Always a fun read. ( )

Spenser finds runaway working as prostitute, helps her better her position

Short but fun read. Some things are left open which maybe would have been explored in later Spenser books. ( )