1: For those expecting a page-turner, look elsewhere.
I like Gregory McDonald's work -- really. McDonald's not Robert B. Parker, but you can generally count on a Fletch novel to move along at a reasonably brisk pace and provide the wit that's become such an integral part of the detective-protagonist in the modern mystery genre. That's why I was so dissapointed in Fletch Reflected. I saw somewhat of a decline in Son of Fletch, but that book looks like a masterpiece when compared to this loose sequel.For my money, the central plot is far less interesting to me than character development and interaction. In a very un-McDonald-like way, both Fletch and his son Jack -- the two central characters -- seem flat, as though they are there only to move the plot along. Of course, there are a few witty lines, but they don't come with the frequency or consistency needed to support the novel or engage the reader. The problem probably begins with the plot itself. From the onset of the book, I didn't buy it. I couldn't fathom why Jack would get involved in the story; the proper motivation simply wasn't there. Fletch's only motivation was to help Jack. When I finally reached the end of the novel (a rather arduous task), I was dissapointed further by a contrived ending that somehow managed to tie everything together too cleanly and leave unanswered questions. Worse, the ending seemed very abrupt, as though McDonald tired of writing the novel and just decided to end it -- which, mercifly, he did. Again, I like McDonald's other work-- but if you're looking for an enjoyable read, you'd be better served by looking at his older stuff.
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