While in 1966's
The Handle, Parker's age is explicitly stated to be 38, Parker is, essentially, an
ageless character—in the various Parker novels that were written and take place over a span of 45 years, Parker always appears to be somewhere around 40. Physically, Parker is described in the opening paragraphs of
The Hunter as "big and shaggy, with flat square shoulders... His hands, swinging curve-fingered at his sides, looked like they were molded of brown clay by a sculptor who thought big and liked veins. His hair was brown and dry and dead, blowing around his head like a poor toupee about to fly loose. His face was a chipped chunk of concrete, with eyes of flawed onyx. His mouth was a quick stroke, bloodless." When asked about who he would cast as Parker, Westlake stated: "Usually I don’t put an actor’s face to the character, though with Parker, in the early days, I did think he probably looked something like
Jack Palance. That may be partly because you knew Palance wasn’t faking it, and Parker wasn’t faking it either. Never once have I caught him winking at the reader." In
The Man With the Getaway Face, Parker has plastic surgery in an attempt to evade The Outfit's retribution, so he's no longer recognizable to most who knew him before, though his general appearance (and the impression it makes on others) seems to be largely unchanged. In terms of his interactions with others, Parker dislikes small talk, and has little use for social pleasantries. Instead, he prefers to converse as little as possible, and will end conversations abruptly once he feels that he has obtained the information he requires. Parker has few interests outside his work, and when he is planning or executing a heist, he is focused on it to the exclusion of almost everything else. However, once the heist is complete, Parker has an almost overwhelming desire to have sex. Though he has a wide range of professional contacts, Parker has no friends. His first name is never revealed in the series, a decision Westlake has stated he made when thinking that
The Hunter would be a standalone book and which he stuck to even though it complicated writing the subsequent books. Westlake himself never definitively settled on a first name for the character, once musing "I don't know what the hell it would be, maybe Frank." No mention is ever made of Parker's family. While the events of previous novels are frequently referred to throughout the series, very little that happened in Parker's life before his appearance in
The Hunter is ever discussed. In
The Outfit, it is stated that he had been in the Army from 1942 to 1944 and had been given a
bad conduct discharge for blackmarketeering. The closest Westlake has ever come to alluding to Parker's childhood is in the novel ''Butcher's Moon
, when Parker surveys the fictional city of Tyler and thinks to himself that it is a very different place from where he grew up. As well, in The Sour Lemon Score'', it's mentioned that Parker was "born and raised in cities", but no further details are offered. In
The Outfit (which explicitly takes place in late 1963) Parker does state he had already been a thief for 18 years, and refers to a heist he committed in 1949. In Chapter 3 of
The Man With the Getaway Face it is mentioned that Parker "owned a couple parking lots and gas stations around the country". He has virtually no involvement with the operation of these businesses, allowing the managers to skim profits in exchange for creating the appearance of Parker having a legitimate source of income to avoid suspicion from "
internal revenue beagles". In the essay
The Gentrification of Crime, which appeared in the March 28, 1985 issue of
The New York Review of Books,
Lucy Sante offered the following analysis of the character: In Parker's world there is no good or
evil, but simply different styles of crime. There is no law, so Parker cannot be caught, but merely injured or delayed. The
subversive implication is not that crime pays, but that all business is crime. Among the
Homeric epithets that follow Parker from book to book is: 'He had to be a businessman of some kind. The way he looked, big and square and hard, it had to be a tough and competitive business; used cars maybe, or jukeboxes.' He is a loner, competing with
conglomerates (the syndicate) and fending off marginal elements (
psychotics, amateurs). He has no interest in society except as a given, like the weather, and none in power. He is a freebooter who acquires money in order to buy himself periods of vegetative quiet. Contrary to what Sante says, Parker was arrested and imprisoned twice in the series—first in
The Hunter for vagrancy, then much later, in
Breakout after a heist goes wrong. In both cases, his real identity wasn't known to the authorities at the time of arrest, and he escaped both times from facilities with relatively low security. However, Parker's always very aware that the law is out there, and that his fingerprints are linked to the murder of a guard at a prison camp—which means that he has no chance of ever being released if caught and properly identified. In the original version of
The Hunter submitted to publishers, Parker was stopped by the police at the end, and killed trying to escape. Bucklin Moon, an editor for Pocket Books, said he'd buy the novel, on condition that Parker got away, so that he could appear in a series of books, instead of just one. In a similar tone, author
Ian Sansom, in
The Guardian (March 3, 2007), wrote of Parker as ...always restless, always on the move; forever hunted, forever hunting, crisscrossing the country following the mighty dollar, trying to make his way in the only way he knows how: through scheming, cheating, and the exercise of brute force. But Parker is by no means merely
evil, merciless or
insane; the brilliance of the books lies in their blurring of the distinction between madness and
sanity, justice and mercy. Parker is not so much sick as blank, with the deep blankness of...
humanity stripped to its essentials... [he is] callous, unable to feel guilt for his actions, completely lacking in
empathy and incapable of learning from his own bitter experience... we admire and yearn for Parker's demented sense of purpose: he feels no embarrassment or shame... he is never afflicted or careworn; he is, in the way of all
existential heroes and madmen, somehow stenchless, blameless and utterly free. == Novel structure ==