Thu 19 Jun 2008
FRIDAY’S Forgotten Books. Archived review: DONALD HAMILTON – The Ambushers.
Posted by Steve under Authors , Characters , Reviews[3] Comments
DONALD HAMILTON – The Ambushers
Gold Medal k1333, paperback original. First printing: 1963. Reprinted several times.
When readers and critics talk about hard-boiled writers, Donald Hamilton’s name never seems to come up, and it should. There may be two reasons for this. First, he didn’t write about private eyes. His primary hero, who appeared in 27 spy fiction novels for Gold Medal between 1960 and 1993, was Matt Helm, a hard-as-nails agent for an unnamed branch of the US government, but still not a private detective. Secondly, Dean Martin, and those godawful movies. I enjoyed them at the time, but I was only in my 20s. What can I tell you?
In the order of appearance, this is the 6th in the series. Starting in a Latin American country falsely called Costa Verde, where Helm takes out the leader of a gang of cutthroat revolutionaries, back to Washington, then out west to Tucson and into northern Mexico, where a leftover Nazi overling has been spotted, Hamilton doesn’t let the story die of the doldrums, to say the least.
There is a girl. Reminiscent of many John D. MacDonald stories, this one needs a rescue, and then some therapeutic rehabilitation. But in this case, Sheila, the agent who ran into problems in Costa Verde, is an essential part of the story, and its ending as well.
As for Helm, he improvises quickly, making (for example) being caught in a trap all part of the plan, and he has no false compunctions or misgivings about what his job entails. He’s in a rough line of work, no doubt about it, with little or no tolerance for error. James Bond is more famous than he, with more of a Continental flair (and better movies) but by a good margin, Matt Helm is the tougher of the two.
[UPDATE] 06-19-08. My comment at the beginning of this review may have been true when I wrote it, but in the six years between then and now, I think Donald Hamilton has been given his due, at least on blogs and the Internet, if not in terms of new editions of his books at Borders and Barnes & Noble. (Hard Case Crime has reprinted Night Walker, a non- Matt Helm book, and I hope it has done well.)
So it may be that neither Helm nor Hamilton are truly forgotten, but the Matt Helm books have been so long out of print that anyone in their 20s now is very likely never to have heard of him in the first place. Unless they read blogs like this one, and Bruce Grossman’s reviews over at bookgasm and Bill Crider on his blog and John Fraser on his website …
[UPDATE #2] Just after posting this, I went to check my email and by some uncanny coincidence, I discovered that Ed Crocker had posted a long reminiscence about Donald Hamilton on an earlier post here on the Mystery*File blog, back when Hamilton’s death was first reported. I’ve kept what he had to say there, but I’ve moved it here as well. It’s the first comment you’ll see below. Thanks, Ed!
June 19th, 2008 at 8:15 pm
I have been keeping up with the very touching notes about Don Hamilton, and have smiled at the speculation about his demise, the confirmation thereof, and some attempts to provide a little biographical context. Let me help that along, as Don’s former son-in-law, crew on the Kathleen, shooting buddy and fan of his youngest offspring, Victoria Donaldsdotter. I have been silent until now, awaiting word from the family (okay, just his one living daughter, Vicky) that I am not invading privacy or, worse, presuming, by writing this.
Most of you know that Don turned out about a book a year during his productive years. His schedule, which I have spent thirty years trying to emulate, was to get up at around six, have a cup of very strong coffee, and go back to his studio to write. I say “back” because he slept and wrote in the same 350 square-foot space. He would hammer away, get agitated, cross the courtyard to the kitchen for some more coffee or a visit with whoever happened to be around, and then go back to get agitated again. At twelve sharp he and Kathleen would be in Booth One at The Palace, Santa Fe’s iconic and, sadly, defunct gathering place on Burro Alley. There, each would have a vodka martini, Kay would likely order the special, and Don would order the prime rib. And another martini.
Early afternoon called for nap for everyone who was involved in lunch, though not all of us could take the time. Then Don would take his dog for a walk. He loved his dogs. Not plural in the sense of a pack, because he only had a dog at a time, sequentially. His favorite of all time was a black Lab named Shad who had the annoying habit of mauling doves and ducks and geese in the process of retrieving them.
At five sharp, a difficult hour for those of us trying to be productive citizens in the non-literary world, there would be drinks, cheese and crackers, and a very jolly time under the portal. There were often fun guests; Dick Stearn, Richard Bradford, Ragnar Ulfung, Sally Wagner, Jack Schaefer. . .
By six-thirty Don was back in the studio, dog at the foot of the bed, reading one of your books. He read a book a day, and then Kay, a former librarian, would catalog it and try to find space to compress it into the shelves.
Since this is not intended to be a biography, I will end with few clarifying notes and what I hope is a not-so-sloppy farewell.
Don and Kay had four kids: Hugo, the eldest, is a graphic artist now living in Sweden; Elise is now deceased and survived by her son Michael; Gordon, whereabouts unknown; and Vicky — living happily in northern California. Don spent his last years in Sweden, some of them aboard a re-outfitted military craft of some sort with Gordon, then with Hugo, and ultimately in a nursing home.
I don’t miss Don Hamilton, because I’ve missed him and thought fondly about him for nearly thirty years now; its just part of my life. And yes, in the occasional fit of nostalgia, I read “The Big Country” again.
With regards to all his fans,
Ed Crocker
eec@crockerltd.net
September 22nd, 2008 at 3:13 am
Thank you so much for the review and the reminiscence. I first read Death of a Citizen in 1973, when I was a Junior in High School. I had seen one of the Dean Martin movies, but my first observation was that Matt Helm bore no resemblence to Dean Martin what-so-ever.
I went on to read the entire series (ending with The Intimidators at that time.) Over the years I read the new books as they came out, and even re-reading the entire series now and then.
I have not since found a writer of thrillers who can so solidly lock me into the story and provide me with the overwhelming sense of reality that Donald Hammilton did with his novels.
To date I have been unable to find a copy of Date with Darkness, the only Donald Hamilton novel I’ve never read.
John Doyle
Puyallup, WA
August 4th, 2010 at 2:17 pm
I first discovered Donald Hamilton in 1965, at age 15, with the novel Line of Fire. I was impressed by the author’s knowledge of guns and ballistics, and when I saw the back cover blurb that said he had created a secret agent character (I was a huge Ian Fleming fan), I got very excited. I read every Helm novel I could find, all of them up to The Poisoners, and then, in the seventies, finally drifted away from spy novels.
Recently, I picked up The Vanishers and began reading it, and I wondered if anyone else out there remembered this unique author.
Hamilton was one of the best. Thank you guys for keedping his memory, and his books, alive for future generations.
Isaac Israel
North Carolina