I, the Jury

I, the Jury
by Mickey Spillane


Mickey Spillane books are hilarious. I mean drop-dead funny. You have some truly great writing, usually when describing some violence that Mike Hammer is committing against some poor sap. But the solutions to the crimes, particularly in this, the first Hammer novel, read like Agatha Christie on steroids. And then there's this strange mix of sex and prudery, such as this "sex scene:"

I had my arm around her shoulders and my hands fastened in her hair, crushing her to me. Never before had I felt like this, but never before had I been in love. She took her mouth away from mine and lay in my arms, limp, breathing heavy, her eyes closed.

"Mike," she whispered, "I want you."

"No," I said.

"Yes. You must."

"No."

"But, Mike, why? Why?"

"No, darling, it's too beautiful to spoil. Not now. Our time will come, but it must be right."

Riiiiiight. No, seriously, Mike Hammer "makes out" with I don't know how many women in this book. And never once has sex. No wonder he boils over with violence.