Updating James Bond to the 1980s was probably a novel idea at the time. But now it doesn’t make so much sense. Like the more recent Carte Blanche, No Deals, Mr. Bond is a decent thriller. Jeffrey Deaver’s Bond will probably be much more dated in 25 years than Gardner’s Bond works are today. Still, I can’t bring myself to approve of updating the literary (hardboiled, Tory pulp hero) Bond to the “present day”—whenever that happens to be.
Posts tagged books
Anonymous asked: What do you think of the role of women in The Big Sleep? Do you think Marlowe's Cynicism has anything to do with the way he views women?
This is an interesting question and once again confirms that I have (in the words of ordinarywonder) “the most well read, intelligent anons.” I’m a bit mystified why anyone would ask such literate question anonymously, but I’m happy to answer all the same.
I think the role of women in Chandler’s novel’s is a product of cynicism rather than any prejudicial view of women. Arguably that is not the case with all hardboiled fiction. Spillane’s Mike Hammer takes some glee in the objectification of women. And Travis McGee is a white knight who helps damsels in distress. He not only vanquishes their tormentors, he can also cure all their hang-ups if they sleep with him.
But I don’t find that in Chandler. The women are pretty much like the men. They all have an angle, and Marlowe’s unique virtue is that he is too stubborn to be a cog in anyone’s wheel. He’s suspicious of everyone and resolutely self-contained.
The women Marlowe comes across are unsavory, no doubt. But are they all that different from the men? In much of hardboiled crime fiction, I think so. In Chandler’s case, I don’t think so.
I could be overlooking something, however. Feel free to let me know what I missed. And you might be interested in this profile of Chandler I wrote for Crime Fiction Lover last summer.
Robert B. Parker revitalized private eye fiction in the 1970s, and this new anthology pays tribute to the modern master of the genre. And what do you know, I was lucky enough to get a chance to review it for Crime Fiction Lover. The contributors in this book include new Spenser author Ace Atkins, Dennis Lehane, Lawrence Block, Ed Gorman and other crime fiction titans.
But don’t just take my word for it. Go read the review, then take my word for it.
It’s no secret that John D. MacDonald is one of my hardboiled favorites. Random House is reprinting his Travis McGee novels, and I thought I’d take the opportunity to talk about McGee’s (and MacDonald’s) place in hardboiled literature. So head on over to CFL for a “review” (such as it is) of The Deep Blue Good-by and a discussion of McGee—a beach bum and rather unqiue hardboiled hero.
Also, before you rush over to CFL, take a moment to admire the pulp art of Robert McGinnis, who illustrated a great many John D. MacDonald covers (both McGee books and standalones). McGinnis was every bit the master that MacDonald was, and the pairing is inspired. It’s like a pulpy seal of quality if I find an old paperback with John D. MacDonald’s name on it and cover art by Robert McGinnis.
But don’t just take my word for it. Go read the review, then take my word for it.
This slim volume was haunting, thought-provoking and brutal. It’s also my latest review on Crime Fiction Lover. Helmick skillfully serves up noir fatalism and stifling frustration on the Georgia blacktop. If Rod Serling were alive, he’d be jealous he didn’t think of this plot for The Twilight Zone.
But don’t just take my word for it. Go read the review, then take my word for it.
L.A.-based P.I. Shell Scott has a change of scenery when he goes to (the fictional) Verde Island. Instead of the usual assortment of syndicate tough guys, Scott must go up against a voodoo priest.
Per Futility Closet, a list of unused Raymond Chandler titles:
- The Man with the Shredded Ear
- All Guns Are Loaded
- The Man Who Loved the Rain
- The Corpse Came in Person
- The Porter Rose at Dawn
- We All Liked Al
- Too Late for Smiling
- They Only Murdered Him Once
- The Diary of a Loud Check Suit
- Stop Screaming — It’s Me
- Return from Ruin
- Between Two Liars
- The Lady with the Truck
- They Still Come Honest
- My Best to the Bride
- Law Is Where You Buy It
- Deceased When Last Seen
- The Black-Eyed Blonde
The Fraternity
She was standing at the bus stop. Sounds like a Hollies song. But she had a wedding ring on, and I already had a moll. No romance here. But she was still standing at the bus stop. Reading a book. I was curious. I glanced over to see what it was. It was a Robert B. Parker.
She saw me looking. Glanced up. I nodded. Pulled the Mike Hammer I had in my messenger bag and held it up. She smiled and nodded back. She turned back to her book. I put mine away. Checked my watch and wondered when the goddamn bus would get there.
Nothing more was said. Nothing more to say. We were both members of the same fraternity. It has no name. Doesn’t need a name. All it needs is a dirty world—and an avenging angel. Or several: Spade, Hammer, McGee, Spenser, whoever. Someone to tame the monsters in a dirty world.
James Ellroy said the message of film noir is “You’re fucked.” It isn’t just in the movies. It was in the books before that, and it’s still there. That’s why we read. And that’s why we have our heroes: they make sure the bad guys get fucked just a bit faster.
That’s what this fraternity is about. There may not be much justice around. But there’s some “get fucked” vengeance stored away in books. So we keep that alive—we’ll take what we can get. We may not have anything else in common. We don’t need anything else in common. We just share little nods of recognition and respect. Because we know who we are.
We keep the avenging angels alive. Every time we turn a page.
As promised, my review of Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl is now posted over at Crime Fiction Lover. Gone Girl has certainly been a runaway success—but is it any good? Check out my review and find out why I think it’s a pretty darn good thriller. If any of you have read it, I am (as always) curious to hear your reactions.
But don’t just take my word for it. Go read the review, then take my word for it.
Never tell a lie when you can bullshit your way through it.
Wisdom from Eric Ambler via Weekly Lizard
