Monday, July 12, 2021

Pulsar #1: The London Switch


Pulsar #1: The London Switch, by Robin Moore and Al Dempsey
July, 1974  Pinnacle Books

Pulsar was a short-lived series courtesy Robin “I wrote The Green Berets and The Happy Hooker” Moore and a collaborator named Al Dempsey, with whom I’m unfamiliar. When I say “short-lived” I mean it; Pulsar only ran for a whopping two volumes. This first volume leaves absolutely no mystery why that was. 

I am in full agreement with the proprietor of Spy Guys And Gals that the authors were likely inspired by the obscure TV series Search, which ran a few years before these books came out. That TV series concerned a security agency that sent agents across the globe, keeping in contact via high-tech gear; some years ago the complete series was released on DVD and I got it, only to lose interest midway through given the static pacing. At any rate, Pulsar is also similar to two other men’s adventure series: The Big Brain, in that protagonist Tim Kyle is super-duper smart and stuff, and The Mind Masters, in that Tim is so smart that there’s this weird implication that his brain is actually a separate entity from his body. 

The only difference is that, judging from The London Switch, Pulsar is a helluva lot less entertaining than either of those series – and to tell the truth, The Big Brain really isn’t even entertaining to begin with. This isn’t just because The London Switch is leisurely paced, lacking much action or violence; it’s also because, when the action does occur, it’s hamstrung by some of the most grueling prose ever, as the authors focus so much on Tim’s thoughts and impressions that he almost comes off like a robot. Take for example this opening action sequence: 


And sadly it doesn’t get much better from there. As you can see, Tim’s brain is almost a separate entity, a la The Mind Masters. The ensuing action scenes – what few of them there are – will be similarly hamstrung by this sort of bicameral breakdown of man and brain. Not only that, but throughout the novel we’ll have these parts where Tim studies the case “item” by “item,” to the point that he seems more machine than man. And like a machine he even happens to possess an “instant replay technique” in which he can “rewind the tape” (in his mind, natch). So we’ll read stuff like, “Tim’s analyzer began to function again, urgently.” It would be okay if the dude was like part cyborg, but he’s not. He just separates his mind between the “action part” and the “casual part,” and it comes off as ultra-annoying…not to mention it kills the forward thrust of any action. 

Another big difference about the series is that Tim’s not only slightly older than the genre average, but also married with children. He’s got a wife and three kids back home, and has been the VP of Pulsar Security since 1954, when he co-founded the company with buddy Glenn Luther. So all the hanky-panky is handled by one-off characters, though we do get a random digression flashback on the first time Tim had sex with his wife (a super bizarre bit where he peers into her nether region and exclaims, “Hey, it’s dark inside!”). Otherwise the wife and kids don’t even appear in The London Switch; the novel opens with Tim sneaking into Ireland, called away from a family camping trip by Glenn Luther to look into possible poaching by a rival outfit. 

But man the novel is hard going. The back cover has it that a “sadistic rape-murder” gets pinned on Tim, and while that happens it takes a while to do so, and besides it’s all off-page anyway. You see, Tim is being hounded by a pair of assassins, young Germans named Kurt and Karen, and while they escape early on Kurt keeps coming back to try to kill Tim…and also people he knows, so as to frame him. One of his victims happens to be Tim’s sister-in-law, a nun; we learn she has been “indecently attacked” before being murdered. But the authors often cut over to Kurt and Karen – mostly so they can provide a middling sex scene between the two – nullifying any potential for suspense or drama. It’s all very rote and by the numbers, and plus with all the “Item:” stuff you feel more like you’re just reading a very slow-going cozy mystery. 

The action stuff you’d expect from Pinnacle is absent. Tim doesn’t carry a gun, but late in the game briefly gets his hand on Kurt’s; the would-be assassin carries something called a Boremite 4.5, and the authors must be in friggin’ love with this gun because they go on and on about it. It’s like a small pistol that fires caseless ammo or somesuch, and is an experimental job only given to select CIA agents and whatnot. I looked it up but couldn’t find anything about it. But man this Boremite (not to be confused with Dolemite, of course) thing is the star of the show. Kurt’s got one, not that he’s able to kill his prey with it. You can forget about the cover image, of Tim wielding a gun. He kills one guy in the novel, very late in the novel – with a screwdriver to the heart! And we learn this is Tim’s first-ever kill! 

The authors do find the opportunity to provide some random sleaze when Von Kirkman, Kurt’s boss, picks up some hot-to-trot vacationer in London and takes her back to his hotel. Here we learn of the man’s “huge organ,” which the girl takes to calling “dicky-boy,” to her “puss.” Just super-weird stuff and having nothing to do with anything, other than to pad out the too-long 209 pages. I thought there might be some action on the way for Tim when he stumbled across Karen, but instead he just hits her (so hard that she pukes!) and then makes her take him to their safe house. But here Tim proves again he doesn’t have the right stuff for Pinnacle, as within seconds Karen and Kurt turn the tables on him. He’s knocked out and strung up, grilled by Von Kirkman, and consigned to death…but the story’s so lame that Tim discovers he’s merely being kept in a house, and thus sneaks around until he finds a window to break out of! 

Eventually the action moves to Luxembourg, where Tim discovers why he’s being hounded and who has betrayed him. None of this comes off as shocking as the authors intend, as we don’t know any of these characters and thus have no investment in them or the series. But as mentioned Tim does manage to kill someone with a screwdriver. The majority of the killing is handled by a friend turned enemy turned friend again; Tim literally just stands there in shock. With all the loose ends tied up, The London Switch comes to a close with Tim Kyle now determined to take Pulsar into new realms of security…but man I’m gonna need a breather before I get to the next one.

1 comment:

Graham said...

I've never heard of this series before. I'd known 'Pulsar' as the title of a short lived (2 books) series of science-fiction anthologies published by Penguin books towards the end of the 1970s and start of the 1980s.