Candyland

From Barnes & Noble

Our Review
Hunting Down a Sexual Predator
It's doubtful that we'll ever see a more unusual "collaboration" than Candyland, a double-decker novel by Evan Hunter and his popular, prolific alter ego, Ed McBain. Hunter (The Blackboard Jungle, Strangers When We Meet) is a mainstream writer known for his psychologically acute, character-driven narratives. As Ed McBain, he is, of course, the author of the 87th Precinct novels, a seminal series of police procedurals. In Candyland, Hunter/McBain brings both modes of storytelling to bear on a cunningly constructed drama whose two separate sections enhance and illuminate each other.

Part One, written by Hunter, is a graphic account of sexual addiction seen from the perspective of Benjamin Thorpe, a successful, middle-aged architect about to embark on an orgiastic evening in New York City. During the course of that evening, Thorpe attempts, with increasing desperation, to hook up with a woman, any woman at all. He begins by calling a series of old girlfriends, nearly seduces the beautiful redhead he meets in a hotel bar, and finally settles for a disturbing -- and violent -- encounter in a sleazy Manhattan massage parlor. By the time the long night comes to an end, Thorpe stands revealed as a deeply disturbed man, a sexual predator who has long since lost control of his own desires.

Part Two, the McBain segment, resumes early the next morning, as a trio of detectives begin their investigation into the hours-old murder of Cathy Frese, a 26-year-old prostitute who worked under the pseudonym of "Heidi." Heidi, an employee of the same massage parlor Benjamin Thorpe had visited just hours earlier, has been raped, beaten, and strangled. When the detectives, led by rape squad specialist Emma Boyle, piece together the violent events of the night before, they automatically add Thorpe's name to the list of possible suspects.

The ensuing investigation occupies one long, exhausting night. By morning, Emma Boyle has identified the killer, and McBain has satisfied the traditional requirements of the genre. But Candyland offers deeper satisfactions than those provided by more generic mystery/suspense novels, satisfactions that arise from its authoritative portrait of the compulsive sexual philanderer. In both sections of the novel, McBain/Hunter takes us deep into the damaged psyches of men who have crossed a forbidden sexual frontier and have lost their bearings on the other side. The result is a first-rate entertainment and a cogent, multilayered narrative by two of the most distinctive voices ever to issue forth from a single, indispensable author.

--Bill Sheehan

Bill Sheehan reviews horror, suspense, and science fiction for Cemetery Dance, The New York Review of Science Fiction, and other publications. His book-length critical study of the fiction of Peter Straub, At the Foot of the Story Tree, has been published by Subterranean Press (www.subterraneanpress.com).

From The Critics

This combined effort by two writers who are in fact the same person is a sex-drenched novel of obsession and violence. In the first part, "by Hunter," Los Angeles architect Benjamin Thorpe is in New York City on business. His preoccupation with sex leads to a series of desperate measures, unfortunate encounters and devastating consequences. This section establishes the events that trigger the investigation that ensues in the second part of the novel, McBain's, which is a classic detective story. This is a suspenseful read, whether the words are Hunter's or McBain's. What might have been mere gimmick instead works to demonstrate that two heads are indeed better than one.
—Robert Allen Papinchak

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly

Hunter (The Blackboard Jungle; etc.) and McBain (the 87th Precinct novels) are the same man, of course, although all the evidence in this superb crime novel, other than a brief confession tucked within the jacket copy, says otherwise. The photo on the back of the jacket, for instance, depicts two men standing together--Hunter in a dark suit and McBain in more casual jeans, sunglasses and cap. Most notably, the writing styles employed in the novel's first part, "The Rain May Never Fall Till After Sundown..." by Hunter, and in the (equally long) second part, McBain's "By Eight, the Morning Fog Must Disappear..." are as alike as sauerkraut and cookies. The first is a cuttingly incisive character study of L.A. architect Ben Thorpe, married and in his late 40s. He spends his final night of a Manhattan business trip drinking and frantically chasing women--a pickup in a bar, an old girlfriend for phone sex and finally two prostitutes in a brothel, where Thorpe insults a third whore and is beaten by the bouncer, only to be rescued by a kindly streetwalker who takes him to her home. The pages flow with the speed and intense detail of a fever dream as Hunter captures the insatiable drive and lavish self-excusing of the sex addict. The section closes with Ben standing in late-night Manhattan rain, then leaps ahead to the next day and McBain's world of Special Victims detective Emma Boyle and her fellow cops, assigned to the murder of a prostitute--the one whom Thorpe insulted. Fashioned in tougher, more clipped, yet just as insightful prose as what came before, this material digs deep into the damaged private lives of the cops even as they hunt the killer--who may be Thorpe--as doggedly as Thorpe pursues women. Each part of the novel works beautifully alone but also in tandem, adding up to a multifaceted, psychologically astute portrait of crime and punishment that has "Edgar nominee" written all over it. Agent, Jane Gelfman. (Jan.) Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.

Library Journal

When mainstream author Hunter teams up with his pseudonym, mystery writer McBain, it's a publishing event; under any name, this man is a master of his craft. Hunter leads off with the tale of sex-obsessed L.A. architect Ben Thorpe, who finds that the thrill of seeing one of his buildings go up approximates the thrill of luring a woman, other than his wife, to bed. Overnight in New York, he resorts to a massage parlor, where his foray ends disastrously. Then McBain takes over, as NYPD detectives investigate the murder and rape of one of the hookers Thorpe encountered just hours before, soon circling around him and focusing on his evening's activities. No one writes police procedurals better than McBain, who wraps it all up with a final twist. There is a high level of explicit sex that has nothing to do with love here, as well as an underlying message that mothers are to be blamed for the behavior of sexually obsessed men. Wonderfully crafted but thematically disturbing, this is bound to be in demand by fans of both authors. Buy accordingly. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 9/15/00.]--Michele Leber, Fairfax Cty. P.L., VA Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.

Richard Bernstein

It's fun to read, despite the grim nature of its subjects, and given that McBain is Mr. Hunter's alter ego, it is also a literary gimmick. Candyland has its moments, and throughout it exhibits a smoothness, a professionalism, a gritty energy and wit.
—New York Times

Bruce DeSilva

The novel is a gimmick, and it is a surprise that it works at all. That it works so superbly is a tribute to the skills of this great storyteller.
—New York Times Book Review