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Smart-Ass Spoken Here Is there something that draws us back to Robert B. Parker's Spenser novels other than their ubiquity on the bookstands? These are not so much crime novels or detective stories (Spenser himself frequently makes light of the amount of actual detecting that goes into his work) as they are modern-day Westerns. Fans of the Western are drawn to the inevitable shoot-'em-up, as well as the pounding presence of the Noble Hero and his ineffable but overarching Code of Honor. Other readers find other attractions, like the modern touch of the macho-male adapting to the mindset of the smart, sensuous, and professional modern woman who understands him despite their differences. For those who love Boston, there is a moveable feast to be found in the continuing travelogue that Parker employs to make the most of his setting. There is the familiarity of the recurring characters who populate Spenser's world; we are reminded of them much like we are of the old friends we seldom connect with other than through the exchange of Christmas letters. And, of course, some people are habituated to the snappy patter that seems to be the only mode of speech employed by Spenser and his circle. So what has he got for us this time? Hawk, the enigmatic bete noir and sidekick, has undertaken to provide protection to a small time bookie who is being squeezed between the entrenched black mob and the usurping Ukrainians (read: the injuns and the ranchers). The assignment fails as Hawk is back-shot and his client murdered along with his family. Following lengthy rehab, which mercifully we see in timed glimpses, Hawk sets out to even the score. The tale involves sorting out the relative good, bad and stupid among the involved criminal classes, and musing on the nature and destiny of our two stalwarts, who commit themselves to the quest for vengeance and each other because...well, because that's who they are. It's an interesting story, and the pages turn quickly because the print is big and the chapters short, but I think every reader reaches a point where enough Spenser is enough, and I for one have arrived there. Everyone is -- to use an expression from the forties that I haven't seen used much anywhere else -- cracking wise to the point of distraction; otherwise, the dialogue in this book seems to consist entirely of koans on the Nature of Spenser and the Nature of Hawk. Parker probably will be turning these stories out as long as he draws breath, although one senses -- from the fact that he has created several other fictional heroes in recent years -- that perhaps he too recognizes a franchise going dry. But I think I've had enough of a fix to last me at least until several more titles have passed by.