Rex Stout - Prisoners Base

Rex Stout

Prisoner's Base

Introduction

F irst I want to talk a little about Rex Stout. When I, as a Bantam Doubleday Dell author, volunteered (begged, actually) to do an introduction for one of the books in this edition of Stout's works, I did so for one main reason-I owe a lot to Rex Stout (and Wolfe, and Archie); and since it's impossible to repay the debt, I'd like at least to acknowledge it.

I'd read some Sherlock Holmes as a kid, and I watched a lot of tough private eyes on TV. But I didn't really get hooked on mysteries until I was twelve years old. And no, it wasn't Stout who first got me, it was Ellery Queen. But I ran into the problem that plagues all true mystery fans-I read faster than my favorite author could write. When Queens grew hard to come by, I turned to my mother, the other mystery junkie in the family, and said, through pangs of withdrawal, "Who else is good?" She told me her own favorite was Rex Stout. I didn't have anything to lose, so I plunged in. I started slowly, with novelettes reprinted in Howard Haycraft anthologies: "Die Like a Dog" and "Instead of Evidence."

Wow.

King Rex had joined the Queen. I mean, even as a kid I could see Stout's genius, and I could see that the genius resided in the creation of Archie Goodwin. Nero Wolfe was great, but great as he was, he was a master detective, and I'd seen a lot of those before. Wolfe might have been an updated Mycroft Holmes.

But, my youthful self judged (and I've never found a reason to change my mind), this Goodwin character was something new. He was a Watson in that he told the story and was frequently left panting behind in the great man's tracks, but there was nothing worshipful about him. He was a tough guy, but unlike too many tough guys, he had no chip on his shoulder. He could work for a man he acknowledged to be his mental superior without having to shelve his own sense of self-worth. He knew what he brought to this particular partnership. In fact, Archie's deflations of Wolfe are what make Wolfe a human and (dare I say it?) lovable figure, rather than the off-putting freak he might have been if a lesser author had given him a lesser sidekick.

I may have grown to resemble Wolfe, but I always identify with Archie.

Stout also used Archie's up-to-date vernacular to put across some very old-fashioned values. "It is most important for you to feel you have earned your fee," Wolfe says. Or, "I rarely make promises, because I would redeem one, tritely, with my life." Or Archie will make a remark about racism: "When I feel superior to someone, as I frequently do, I need a better reason than the color of my skin."

I spent many happy hours, through adolescence and adulthood, immersed in this stuff and still gladly plunge back in today. Because along with all his other virtues, Rex Stout is the most rereadable author in the history of the genre.

All of this Stout-Wolfe-Archie exposure at an impressionable age has made indelible marks on my outlook, my patterns of thought, even my style as a writer. Several readers have told me that my first-person style reminds them of Stout's and that a certain character of mine, to quote one of them, "could be Archie Goodwin's younger brother." As far as I'm concerned, that's the best praise I can hear.

Now I want to talk a little about this particular book.

There's something ridiculous about having a favorite Rex Stout book. The man sustained an amazing level of excellence for such a long time, it seems foolish to single one out. It's like having a favorite Elvis record.* (*But of course I've got one-"Suspicious Minds" (1968).)

Nevertheless, when I was offered the choice of which book to do, Prisoner's Base was the one I chose instantly. Why? Because it shows Wolfe and Archie at their romantic (in the swashbuckling sense) best. Because, as in just a few other books (The Silent Speaker, for instance), we have a case that really gets under Archie's skin. We've got the regular gang in top form (although Lily Rowan is, alas, absent), and we have plenty of the Stoutian spear carriers (Dewdrop Irby, Andy Fomos) to bring Wolfe's New York to life. If you were going to pick one book to introduce a friend to Wolfe, you couldn't pick a better one than Prisoner's Base.

But this book has something else going for it, too: a dazzlingly simple-and simply dazzling-plot gimmick. Great as he was, plotting classic mystery puzzles wasn't Stout's strongest suit. But every once in a while he'd come up with a clue for the ages. The League of Frightened Men has a solution like that. So does Prisoner's Base. I envy those of you who are about to read it for the first time.

William L. DeAndrea

Watertown, Connecticut