This novel was my first foray into what I originally thought would be a fascinating literary world of mystery and intrigue. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. For the most part a dull, unimaginative book, the only part that captured my attention was the chapter in which Joe Hardy killed his brother Frank for insurance money before hopping on a plane to sunny Bermuda. Or maybe that never happened. It's hard to tell since I lost interest halfway through and began making up the plot.

The stars of this novel and, in fact, the whole series are Joe and Frank Hardy, an annoyingly saccharine pair of brothers who take it upon themselves to solve mysteries that would be better left to the police. The Hardy boys are first involved in the mystery when someone steals their boat. Shortly after this occurence, the boys also witness a bank robbery (by chance! I don't believe it either) by robbers who wear masks. Then they go to a costume party. After enjoying some good, clean, wholesome fun, they return home, only to find out that their friends never made it back. What follows is a series of badly-thought out and dangerous actions that eventually resolve in a thouroughly unrealistic, but happy, ending.

Unsavory aspects to this story, such as the rampant sexism and police corruption are glossed over with quaint phrases, such as "Say!," and "Gee!" What kind of examples are the Hardy boys setting for their impressionable readers when they refuse to take "the girls" to the island because the trip is "too dangerous"? The darker elements of the police force, such as their unconditional dismissal of the Hardys as suspects in the bank robbery although they were also carrying masks, is never brought up. Author Frank Dixon refused to deal with the real issues he could so easily address and, instead, created a piece of fluff fiction.

I suppose what I really did not like was that the mysterious titles of the chapters (Rocky Prison, A Daring Getaway, and Faces in the Fog) raised my hopes and expectations only to heartlessly destroy them by revealing yet another 20 pages of drivel. I dislike when people (or, in this case, books) play with my emotions. With good character development (even a litle bit would make me happy) and non-stupid dialogue, I probably could have...despised it less.

As I sit here, listening to disco for no reason and reading through my review, I believe I have been unnecessarily harsh on this book. I have never liked teen book series. Perhaps I have been embittered by the legions of Babysitter's Club books I read throughout elementary school. Perhaps I am just in a bad mood. Perhaps the next book in the series I read will be better. Perhaps this makes no sense. All I can say is: it was better than the last 150 Babysitter's Club books I read...combined.

The Hardy Boys #9: The Great Airport Mystery
by Frank W. Dixon

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Before reading "The Great Airport Mystery," I decided to adopt a new, positive attitude towards the Hardy Boys in general. I told myself that I was going on a magical adventure/safari, and that I would enjoy this upcoming tale of wits and intrigue. After all, I'm too nice to give yet another scathing review (the last one WAS scathing, don't you deny it!) Also, I got much more sleep last night than I had gotten the day when I wrote that first review. Finally, I just got a whole six-pack of root beer, and I'm feeling rather happy.
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From the first moment I saw this book, I knew I had to have it. You see, on the cover there's a picture of one of the Hardy boys pointing to some footprints and a policeman looking really stunned. Now, this policeman looks like a manly-man, and I immediately said out loud, "Why did those footprints startle him?" Fortunately I was alone, so I didn't have to suffer through the stares I get when I talk to myself. In the background, there's a plane. I like planes, so I knew that this was the novel for me. Unfortunately, the cover was the best part. I suppose the plot and stuff were okay.

In this installment of the Hardy boys' crime-fighting, some valuable electronic parts are stolen from cargo planes. Being the nosy teenagers they are, Frank and Joe go undercover as employees at the company from which the parts were stolen. They search for clues to the theives' headquarters, and then have the usual danger-filled showdown with the criminals.

In my case, my attention was not held by the mystery or the characters, but by the sheer unbelievability of the whole plot. That the two teenage detectives manage to stumble into clues throughout the whole 175 pages is one of the many elements of this story that makes me smirk in a sarcastic way. The fact that they receive no police assistance when confronting the criminals is also unlikely. Then again, the books were written in the 1960s, so that's understandable. If I was alive back then, I'd urge the author to protray his time period more realistically.

Since there wasn't much to the storyline, I thought I'd review the illustrations. On page 37 of my copy, there's a caption that reads, "The massive bulk of metal plunged towards the boys." Sure enough, the illustration show the boys looking scared as a big metal thing drops towards them. I liked that picture. It was both simplistic and soulful. And the bulk of metal was very detailed. One illustration I DID NOT like as much can be found on page 71. The caption says, "'That'll teach you!' the man snarled," and it shows a man hitting another man with what appears to a bag of bread. I have several problems with this picture. First, bread is not a very effective weapon. Secondly, the man with the bread is not snarling. He does not even look angry. Finally, the alley the two men are standing is awfully close to the main road, and everyone knows that if you plan to beat someone up, you should "teach them a lesson" in a more secluded part of town. Get it right, man.

This is not a great work of literary fiction. But it was vaguely enjoyable, and I liked looking at all the pretty pictures. I also have a basic idea of how to successfully put into action my future platinum-stealing plans. As long as no teenage detectives meddle with my evil plans. Muah-ha-ha. Thanks for reading this.

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Finally, I'd like to add that I actually wanted to review Shaq's album, but none of the stores in my area carry it. They were also pretty rude when I asked. Like their taste in music is any better. Stupid snotty CD selling people.
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