A Tradition Dies .....

Every year, for the past ten years or more I have taken a day off between Christmas and New Year to read the new W.E.B. Griffin book that is always released in that period.  I would brew a pot of coffee, make myself comfortable and then settle in to lose myself in the work of the poet laureate of the American warrior class.  Over the years, Griffin has re-told in fictional form the legends of the U.S. Military from the beginning of World War II right up through the war on terror.  Told with a confidence born of experience, Griffin became the voice of our warriors then and now.

So, it is with great reluctance that I will not buy Griffin's latest work, The Hunting Trip, a sophomoric romp revolving around a set of complex plans to allow the protagonist to commit adultery with a friend's wife.  That sad decision was based upon three factors. 

The first factor was the declining quality of Griffin's work.  The last couple of offerings from the franchise have been almost laughably bad.  Granted, they were co-written by Griffin's son who obviously lacks the breadth of the elder Griffin/Butterworth's experience.  But, once burned is forever forewarned.  I read only a few pages of Amazon's online sample of his latest offering, The Hunting Trip, before deciding that Griffin no longer had anything to say that I wanted to hear.  It read like a bad Fannie Flagg novel.  So much so actually that Fannie Flagg gave it a glowing review. I almost asked for my money back after reading his disastrous attempt to mimic the voice of Janet Evanovich.  That mistake and the withering reviews that followed it should have ended his apparently deep seated need to feminize his voice.

The second factor in my decision might explain why Griffin's latest reads like the work of a confused, sophomoric southern society lady wannabe.  Along with the release of this book, Griffin also revealed that for several years he has also written lesbian romance novels under the pseudonym Blakely St. James.  That might explain the gender confusion in the voice of his latest offering. 

The final factor however went to the heart of Griffin the man and the difference between him and his characters.  Griffin's characters were always gentlemen with a capitol "G."  His latest work is anything but gentlemanly, from the annoying "Expletive Deleted's" overused to the point of distraction to his willingness to trash the memory of his first wife.  No gentleman would do that to his children or for that matter to a woman that he chose to be his wife.  A gentleman would let sleeping dogs lie. 

This year, on this final day of the year, I may go back and read something from The Corp's series which introduced the current generation to old breed Marines, or something from the Brotherhood of War series which did the same thing for the old, upper class Army officer corps.  I might even pull out one of the Presidential Agent series and follow the exploits of the new class of special operators.  But, I won't be reading the gender confused, immoral, literary vomitus that Griffin is now producing.
 
I want to give credit where credit is due.  For decades, Griffin produced some of the best military/historical fiction ever written.  His earlier work deserves a place alongside C.S. Forester, Bernard Cornwell and the other masters of the genre.   Having said that, I will mourn for the writer that was who has now passed and politely refuse to become involved with the disappointing character he has become.