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Perry Mason-Faceless Hero (Copyright 1960, 1999 Newsweek Magazine. All Rights Reserved) What kind of man is Perry Mason? A great one, sure. But what, for example, does he really look like? In the movies, when played by Warren William, he was suave, sleek-haired, and thinly mustached: Seen in his present television image, he is hefty, jowly, and slightly pop-eyed. In 61 novels, Erle Stanley Gardner never has gotten around to telling the readers which image to believe. Even Perry's law offices have fared better than their tenant. Although his headquarters are skimpily described, it is possible, by close research, to extract enough details from the books to make a floor plan (see above). But to make a face plan for Perry is something else again. Befuddling: Gardner has stated that he left Perry featureless for a reason: The he-reader is supposed to graft his own face onto the blank; the she-reader, the face of her ideal. (Another reason could be that it seldom enters Gardner's head to describe anything.) To further befuddle the fan, Gardner has quarreled with the Perry portrait offered by the movies. He still speaks with anger of the first, in "The Case of the Howling Dog" (1934), which outraged the author by showing his hero as a drunk. (Gardner drinks lightly, smokes never.) Soured on Hollywood, Gardner turned his back at first when television came along and offered him a round $1 million for video rights. Now he says he finds the current Perry show (produced by his old friends, ex-actress Gail Patrick and Cornwell Jackson, her husband) thoroughly to his taste. Of Raymond Burr, he says: "On TV, he is Perry Mason."
No Woo: Perry will not take a case he shuns cases which are dull. His personal life is decidedly tame, and his relations with his secretary, Della Street, the only woman in his life, are decorous to a degree which irks some of his fans. During the war, servicemen kept writing Gardner's publisher demanding that Perry wake up and pitch some really adequate woo at Della. Gardner, although he wrote during the war years in a way that should have won him a Navy "E" for production, never did comply with this demand. The best they got, says Mrs. Helen B. King, Gardner's editor at William Morrow—and one of the few readers who know the complete works— was an embrace for Della every ten books or so and some such endearment as, ‘Good work, old girl ." |