In 1985, a fellow investigator at a research center in Jackson Hole recommended a paperback she had just finished. “Whip Hand,” she said, was set in the world of English horse racing. When I demurred, claiming no interest in that world, she gently persisted, to my great pleasure. By the mid 90′s I had read all of the Dick Francis crime novels to date, and looked forward to the yearly additions he made to his oeuvre. I wasn’t alone, as by that time Francis had become one of the most popular and widely read authors in the world.
I’ve always felt that Francis’s most appealing quality was his ability to create extremely likable characters, both his protagonists and their associates. One cares about the people in his novels, and their hopes and fears and the dangers they encounter matter to us. In the last few years I have reread a few of the novels, and given the gratuitous violence so common in contemporary entertainment, the books seem pretty mild. Still, that may have its own appeal. If you haven’t read Francis, start with “Odds Against,” and then “Whip Hand.” With any luck, you’ll be hooked.
