Bernard Schaffer is a twenty-year police veteran, and that experience is constantly on display in Superbia, a short novel about a suburban Philadelphia police force somewhat similar to the environs in which Schaffer has served. However, at the time he wrote this book, he wasn’t a twenty-year crime fiction writing veteran, and that inexperience also shows in a fragmented plot and some highly stereotyped characters.
As Schaffer notes in his introduction to the book, the Philadelphia suburbs actually comprise a number of small jurisdictions, towns and townships, each with its own rather small police department. So, while the Philadelphia suburbs in combination have the same demographics and crime problems as those of other major metropolitan cities, each jurisdiction has to deal with crimes within its borders with limited resources. Superbia details the exploits of the only two detectives in one such township. Frank O’Ryan is recovering from severe wounds suffered in a shootout in which his former partner was killed (and dealing with an overreliance on pain killers), while his more experienced new partner Vic Ajax is recovering from a messy divorce in which he lost custody of his kids (and dealing with an overreliance on booze).
The plot of Superbia more closely resembles a few episodes of Dragnet back to back rather than a conventional detective novel. O’Ryan and Ajax do get involved in a couple of cases, trying to bring down a good-sized drug ring and a child molester who assaulted his niece, but the book progresses in a series of individual, almost stand-alone scenes that portray the nitty gritty of police work. About the nittiest and grittiest example is a dumpster diving detail, when O’Ryan has to search a drug dealer’s garbage for evidence mixed up with some rather disgusting other material. Also disgusting, but in a different sort of way, is the interrogation of the child molester, in which Vic must at first empathize with him in order to elicit an incriminating statement. The dialogue and byplay in these scenes sounds incredibly authentic and is very entertaining to read.
While individual scenes and moments in Superbia stand out, the overall storyline does not. Individual plot threads are dropped rather abruptly, and the transition between scenes is equally abrupt and lacks explanation, resulting in confusion until a reader figures out just when and where a scene is taking place. Even worse, Schaffer trots out some of the worst fictional stereotypes, the anal-retentive police superior who makes life miserable for O’Ryan and Ajax while being consistently wrong, and Vic’s ex-wife who is always hounding him about needing more money and claiming that he forfeited all his rights to his kids as a result of the divorce. In a fairly short novel, readers are “treated” to minor variations of her stump anti-Vic speech on several occasions.
The parts of Superbia that work are quite good and sound very true to life. Indeed, I get the feeling that if Schaffer had written a memoir based on his career as a Pennsylvania cop, he could have expanded on those parts of Superbia. But this book isn’t a memoir; instead, it connects this material with a storyline that is often poorly thought out, confusing, and contains too many annoying stereotyped characters. I can still recommend Superbia for the enjoyment factor of the sections that do work. Schaffer has written number of books since then, so his plotting and character development may well have improved since then. Superbia, however, is not superb.