By Edward S. Aarons. Copyright 1967, Fawcett Publishing.
It's been a long, long time since I dug into another Sam Durell adventure from Edward S. Aarons, which mkes no sense at all, seeing as the first two I read (Assignment: Nuclear Nude and Assignment: Ankara) were spectacular. Well, high time to rectify that.

Aarons' "Sam Durell" novels, about the adventures of operative Sam Durell, a.k.a. The Cajun, often get compared to and lumped in with the legion of James Bond imitators that came in the wake of Ian Fleming's success. I myself have no doubt done this, but that was because I wa sad and ignorant and shameful. After learning a little more about Aarons and the history of the Sam Durell books, it becomes evident that, despite the fact that Bond and Durell share a remarkable number of traits, it's unlikely that Fleming's books were much of -- if any -- influence on Aarons when he was writing his first Sam Durell novel, which came out in 1955, less than a year after the initial publication of Fleming's Casino Royale.

Both Bond and Durell are expert gamblers. Both work for special "problem solving" departments in their respective organizations (MI6 for Bond, the CIA for Durell). Both have tough bosses behind big desks (something that would become a staple of just about all spy novels, good and bad). In terms of physical appearance, both men are described similarly. Durell is a little earthier, a little more rogh and tumble, while Bond is a little more refined and playboyish. It would seem that the one had to come from the other, but keep in mind that Aarons' first Durell novel (Assignment to Danger) came out well before Casino Royale and James Bond made any sort of impact. Fleming's stories weren't instant successes. It took a while for the Bond train to build steam, and while it's possible that Aarons read Casino Royale, it's just as likely that it was simply a case of two different men looking at the world and coming to a similar litarary conclusion. It's not nearly as rare or unlikely as it might sound, especially since both men were likely influenced by the same crop of noir writers from earlier decades.

Aarons was definitely the more experienced writer of the two. Born in Philadelphia, 1916, he attended Columbia University, where he received a degree in history before serving as a chief pett officer int he Coast Guard during WWII (Fleming himself served in WWII in a similar homeland capacity for Naval Intelligence). Aarons also began a steady career as a writer for pulp magazines, including contributions to The Avenger and Angel Detective, collections of stories about a Saint-style character that were also adapted for comic format by Timely (later known as Marvel) Comics. Aarons worked frequently as a mystery writer throughout the 1940s, until publishing Assignment to Danger in 1955, which established the character of Sam Durell and the writer Edward Aarons as major forces in pulp action novels. By contrast, Casino Royale was the first novel for Ian Fleming.

But the dice often roll in an unpredictable fashion, and while Fleming went on (deservedly so) to become one of the most popular espionage/action novel writers of all time, Aarons' stories -- which are generally just as or even more accomplished than Fleming's -- remained in the pulp/potboiler ghetto. It wasn't a bad place to be, all things considered, and Aarons managed to write some fifty titles featuring Sam Durell, but as with Donald Hamilton and Matt Helm, it's a shame that Aarons never acquired a following outside the pulp/genre cult following, because his books definitely deserve to be just as highly lauded and celebrated as Fleming's (while Donald Hamilton, at least in the 60s and 70s, deserves to stand above both of them, in my opinion). But it hasn't worked out that way. While Fleming enjoys continued mass popularity and recognition and gets his books reprinted in new editions from Vintage Books with dazzling, sexy covers, Edward S. Aarons remains all but forgotten save by a core of dedicated readers who keep holding out hope that some day he'll get the recognition he deserves.

Assignment Moon Girl is a solid example of just how good the Sam Durell novels can be. When a beautiful Russian cosmonaut pops up in Iran, half out of her mind and babbling about having just returned from the moon, Durell is called in to join the race to find her. The Russians want her because she's half Russian, and her father is a significant player in the Russian bid for a moon landing. The Chinese want her because she is half Chinese and can potentially give them valuable information for their own space program. Certain rebel elements in Iran want her so she can be used as a bargaining chip. And Durell things the whole moon trip thing is a lie, but he still wants to find her first so she can be questioned then returned to the USSR. The assignment leads him from the streets of pre-revolution Tehran into the deserts of Iran and, so it would seem, even to the moon at one point.

Aarons' novels are heavy on action and intrigue and very light on gratuitous sex and sleaze -- which again makes them more in line with the works of Fleming and Hamilton and less so with series like the Nick Carter books. Though the book does use the phrase "proud breasts" as soon as the first page, and although there is some nudity both male and female and when the cosmonaut, Tanya, and later Durell himself find themselves prisoners in a tiger pit, there is no sex in the book, although in classic Bond formula, the hint of a little fun to come s squeezed into the last page as Durell decides to show a lovely former Chinese agent the glories of the free world. The Chinese woman is a disgruntled servant of one Madame Hung, who is a recurring character in the books and Durell's sour-faced arch nemesis (we last saw her in Assignment Nuclear Nude -- which I believe takes place directly after this story even though I read it first). Why are all evil Chinese women called Madame so-and-so? In fact, most of the time, regardless of the race of the person, if they insist on being referred to as Madame Something, you can bet they're probably up to something nefarious. Aarons' description of Hung is truly harrowing -- faded beauty twisted by age and wickedness -- and although she's slight of build and not physically imposing, Hung's manipulation of situations to her advantage and her cruelty when she has the upper hand make her a formidable nemesis.

Aarons was also one of the most racially progressive of the espionage writers of the era, at least in the books I've read. His cast of foreign characters is always sprinkled with a few rotten eggs, but for the most part, they're an assembly of decent and sometimes even heroic supporting characters. The Iranian officer Hanookh is a solid hero, noble and dedicated if a bit naïve, and the Chinese agent, despite being named Lotus and acting demurely for most of the book, is never pictured as anything less than dependable and competent. We also get a decent glimpse at pre-fundamentalist Ira, when it was on its way to being a jewel in the Middle East. My how the times have changed. Moon Girl isn't a book for exploring Middle eastern politics -- too much has changed since its original publication, but it does remind one that the civilizations of the Middle East were, at one time, the apex of civilization in the world. While Europe wallowed in filth and ignorance, it was the kingdoms of the Middle East who protected and preserved the classic works, sciences, and histories of the Greeks and Romans, which would quite possible have been forever lost if entrusted to Europe during the Dark Ages.

But Islam is still a young religion, comparatively speaking, and such religions have a tendency to follow historical patterns. So just as Christianity endured an era in which ignorance and violent fanaticism dominated its landscape, so now Islam has entered its version of the Dark Ages, whence the vestiges of its former glories and enlightened nature are lost amid the flow of bloodthirsty and greedy manipulators who strive to keep the people ignorant, suspicious, and oppressed. There's no doubt that Islam will emerge from this era, the same as Christianity did, but the question remains: will it be a centuries-long process, as it was in the Dark Ages, or will the spread of modern technology and society accelerate Islam's entry into their eventual Renaissance? Let's hope it the latter.

At best, that's hinted at in this book, as characters from time to time mention the astoundingly glorious past of Persian Iran. The better espionage novels are always informed by such reflections on history and modern society. But such tapestries are always the backdrop for action, and Durell really goes through the ringer on this one. He's frequently beaten, bashed on the head, and drugged. In fact, he may get smashed in the back of the head in this book almost as often as Philip Marlowe drinks scotch in Farewell, My Lovely. Like any espionage thriller, there's a fair amount of luck and coincidence helping Durell along, but Aarons creates a solid, realistic framework for his story and thus makes the coincidences easy to accept.

Assignment Moon Girl is both straight-forward and smart. There are some twists and turns, but no real shockers. Aarons spins a streamlined action-adventure yarn that remains relatively clever while still being easy to digest. I don't sail through a Sam Durell novel at the same speed as a Nick Carter novel, but that's because there's more to savor. I'm not acquainted enough yet with Aarons' overall body of work (though a towering stack of his books on my shelves will help rectify that quickly) to declare Assignment Moon Girl to be Aarons at his best. But it's a damn good book. Bloody, action-packed, and swiftly-paced.

Labels: Espionage, Scifi