Dispatches From Noir

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.

They tell you never to burn bridges.  The investigation isn’t about you.  Act respectfully when you’re questioning someone.  You may need to get a little rough sometimes, but apologize after you get what you need.  Honey gets more flies than vinegar and all that.

It’s a good idea.  So I try to do do it that way.  But sometimes good ideas just get stretched to the breaking point.  This broad just wanted to lecture me.  The workers were all oppressed.  It was all about power, I had to realize that.  All I knew was that one worker’s head had been oppressed by a very large wrench.  I’d figure out all the oppression in the rest of the world later.

She didn’t like my priorities, but I needed priorities in my line of work.  She said she didn’t plan on getting a job and submitting to the oppression.  She wouldn’t get a job, that much was for sure.  

They say not to burn bridges.  They don’t say what to do if you don’t wanna cross those bridges ever again.They don’t tell you what to do with a bridge that doesn’t go anywhere.  All good ideas have exceptions.  She was a two-bit cunt.  So I told her so.

thelamplightersserenade asked: Which Marlowe did you prefer? Bogart or Powell?

Bogart over Powell for me.  But as much as I love the Bogart hero, there is little in Bogie’s portrayal of Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe to differentiate two very different characters.  My favorite Marlowe on screen is Powers Boothe from HBO’s Philip Marlowe, Private Eye.

He was a lot shorter than he looked.  He was a lot thinner than he used to be.  His cane wasn’t a prop anymore as he shuffled out to the piano.  Onstage, his voice was as scratchy as it was soulful.  But it had always been both.  Not much had changed about his voice, or his songs.  He was still a percussive rascal at the piano.  But a lot changed when he stepped away from it.

He still sang about debauchery.  He was gleefully dissolute when he sang.  Age hadn’t dulled his performance a bit.  But it was all in the past.  He sang and pounded out ragtime melodies, and the dissolution still lived.  But only in his voice.  The old bluesman had filthy, happy memories, but no vices.  After the show he was leaning heavily on the ripe young girl who accompanied him.  But the old dog was too tired to hunt.  The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak.