I bought this a few years ago because it had a great painted cover, and promptly forgot about it until I was looking for something to read about a month ago. I'd never read a Charlie Chan novel before, and in reading it I've learned a lot of weird but obvious things about Charlie Chan novels.
You're going to read a Charlie Chan novel in 2016 and realize that it's horribly, horribly racist, but also that is has no idea it's racist and in fact is trying to be progressive. Charlie has this ridiculous speech pattern that's trying to emulate what it's like for a Chinese person to speak English as a second language which, as soon as you read it, you realize a) is how Chinese characters spoke in literally every movie until at least the 90s, and 2) is nothing like how an actual Chinese person learning English actually speaks. Plus, Chan has this weird line about how his grasp of English frustrates him for its clumsiness, which is like, not how becoming conversational through immersion in another language works at all EVEN A LITTLE. So it's sort of horribly offensive that Biggers was trying to write this dynamic progressive Asian lead character and making up this fucking stupid way of talking WITHOUT SPEAKING TO AN ACTUAL FUCKING ASIAN OBVIOUSLY.
Also, Chan speaks in a lot of faux-koans and goofy nature metaphors, and I can't decide how I feel about this. While making every Asian character in Western fiction speak like a cartoon of a Buddhist monk is totally fucking insane, all the Chinese transfer students in my composition courses LOVE them some Confucius quotes and nature metaphors, holy shit. You can't read a single page of a first year's first paper without a zen quote or story about trees. It's like if you had a Russian student write a paper about bears and vodka. (Actually I did have a Russian student who did this once, but he just did it to fuck with me.) Anyway, I don't know if stereotypes are real or our horrible ideas about Asian culture have somehow rubbed off on Asian college students trying to assimilate into Western culture or what, and none of it excuses Charlie Chan, who is a fucking detective from Honolulu and would seriously never talk about a lotus blossom.
Anyway, I can't stop thinking about all that stuff, but it's also really obvious -- the ways this book is really obviously racist. The ways that is is less obviously racist is how Charlie is not the main character of his own book, and is apparently never the main character of any of the books, but always sort of the 'smart assistant' character to some milquetoast white guy he runs into in each story. Here the main character is Bob Eden (I mean dear god), who is totally awful. Just awful. Just stupid and entitled and bosses Chan around and is trying to marry this woman the whole book and just sort of objectifies her and tries to protect her and leads every single one of their conversations through a series of microaggressions and again, it's interesting because Chan and Paula (the woman) are obviously, obviously way more interesting characters and they spend a lot of the book sort of leading Bob around by the nose and being smarter than him, but he's still the star of the book. And the only three-dimensional characters in the book are Bob and all of his male friends, who are vulnerable and thoughtful and capable of acting in different ways at different times while still maintaining their selfhoods, while Chan and Paula, who are clearly supposed to be smarter and more sophisticated, are still these sort of one-note character robots. Charlie is sly and submissive and Paula is independent with a wild hair, and THAT IS IT. THEY DON'T CHANGE. Basically Chan could have solved the entire mystery with Paula as his streetwise wheelman and Bob could have stayed at home. Bob is the main character and he's admittedly, loudly, obviously useless to the story except to act as some kind of mediator for the Mysterious Woman and the Wily Chinaman.
I mean, I don't know. I don't fucking know. This book was written like 100 years ago. I fucking don't know. I think Biggers meant to do a lot of these things, to make these kinds of commentaries not just about the Other, but about white men too. I mean, I think. It's so consistent, but also so AWFUL, but what. But what. But what.
The entire time I was reading this book I was, from the start, rewriting it as a movie directed by David Fincher, in which Charlie talked like a normal person and solved everything while leading Bob around by the nose, Charlie sort of maintaining the wall between himself and the audience, but as an act of careful planning rather than Othering. Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, hell man, even Columbo -- the tradition of having a guarded detective character is not new to Charlie Chan. But obviously there's something wholly different about how he's treated in the context of these stories.
As I'm typing I'm getting another idea about Charlie and Paula as the main characters while Bob just fucks around in the background. But literally who would star in this movie even. Racism is so obvious it's boring, this book was written 100 years ago and less has changed than hasn't changed, that's the mystery, that's your zen koan, that the lotus blossom, someone call me Honolulu, someone hook me up with Charlie Chan.