This book really disappointed. I was looking forward to some clever hard-boiled detective, like Hammett's Sam Spade or Continental Operative. What I got instead was ex-detective Nick Charles, who is medium-boiled, at best.
Nick Charles quit the detective game when he married the wealthy Nora, instead managing their (her) fortune and spending most days sleeping late, attending and hosting cocktail parties with the rich, going to all-night clubs, and coming home drunk in the wee hours. While on a trip to New York City he happens to meet up with the 20-year-old daughter of a former client, who of course needs his help. She just wants to find her father, whom she has not seen in many years.
Then her father's secretary is found dead, and the father cannot be located (although he keeps sending notes to people). It turns out that nobody has seen the father for several months, except, possibly, the secretary. Several suspects emerge, most notably the missing man and members of his dysfunctional family.
The Thin Man contains echoes of Hammett's razor-sharp dialogue, but it seems unnatural for a character who spends most days drinking and socializing with the wealthy. The suspects may be neurotic and slightly immoral, but they are not the street-smart toughs of Hammett's other books. Even the body count pales in comparison, and Nick is in danger only once, almost by accident. And the most disheartening element of all: I anticipated the ending about half-way through.
This was Hammett's last novel, even though he lived almost 25 more years. And it was first published, not as a "pulp mystery," but as a serial in Redbook, of all places (essentially a woman's magazine). This was in 1933 during the Depression, so maybe he really needed the money. No one knows, even those closest to him, why he never wrote another mystery.
The one aspect of this novel that stands out for me is the alcohol use. Nick and Nora have a drink or two, "to cut the phlegm," before breakfast. Every time anyone shows up, including the police, they all have drinks. They have drinks with lunch; they have cocktails in the afternoon, they have drinks with late suppers; they go out to late-night clubs and have many, many drinks. I have read that Hammett was an alcoholic. If he drank only half as much as the fictional Nick Charles, it is no surprise that he had a problem.
If you want to sample the origin of the hard-boiled detective story, read Red Harvest or The Maltese Falcon, not this one.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Dune by Frank Herbert
Back in the '80s, a TV commercial for a bath-water softener named Calgon featured a harassed, stressed-out woman. She says, "Calgon, take me away," and is then transported to a bathtub surrounded by a calming, misty forest.
When I face stresses I wish to escape, I don't use Calgon. I read The Lord of the Rings (J.R.R. Tolkien), The Dark Tower series (Stephen King), or Dune. This time I chose Dune.
These three writers have created complete alternative worlds in which I can escape. The characters face seemingly unsolvable problems, but they keep on keeping on and they prevail. Luckily, I have the ability to lose myself in a well-told story, so these three, in particular, can "take me away."
Dune is the story of a feudal society of the future, when humans have spread to many planets. The Atreides House has been given control of Arrakis, a desert planet also known as Dune, which alone supplies "spice," a substance that has geriatric qualities and also allows the pilots of the Spacing Guild to navigate from planet to planet. Treachery awaits them, and the Duke Leto Atreides is killed, but his 15-year-old son Paul and his concubine Jessica escape into the desert. There they must face the dangers of the environment, of the natives of the planet, and of the worms, giant (really, really giant) sandworms, who devour everything that they sense.
Herbert has included every aspect of his created world in this book--the language patterns, the politics, the mythology, the religion, the life-style, the environment. His treatment of the science of desert ecology is apparently accurate (so I have read). Mysticism and mind-enhancing drugs also enter in, which may be one reason this book was so popular in the late '60s. This world is so clearly delineated that I would recognize it immediately if I ever found myself there.
The plot here is intricate and not easily anticipated; the politics are also intricate; the characters are somewhat archetypal, but that is fitting.
One must wonder at the kind of mind that can create an entire alternative universe. I believe these authors must have entered that universe themselves, because all three wrote sequels (and sequels) and included the universe in other things they wrote. Is it possible those universes do exist, or did exist once, or will exist in the future? (What a hippy-dippy comment!)
Suffice it to say, if you have the kind of mind that can suspend disbelief and escape from reality, you should read Dune and at least two of its sequels. If you have not read them already.
When I face stresses I wish to escape, I don't use Calgon. I read The Lord of the Rings (J.R.R. Tolkien), The Dark Tower series (Stephen King), or Dune. This time I chose Dune.
These three writers have created complete alternative worlds in which I can escape. The characters face seemingly unsolvable problems, but they keep on keeping on and they prevail. Luckily, I have the ability to lose myself in a well-told story, so these three, in particular, can "take me away."
Dune is the story of a feudal society of the future, when humans have spread to many planets. The Atreides House has been given control of Arrakis, a desert planet also known as Dune, which alone supplies "spice," a substance that has geriatric qualities and also allows the pilots of the Spacing Guild to navigate from planet to planet. Treachery awaits them, and the Duke Leto Atreides is killed, but his 15-year-old son Paul and his concubine Jessica escape into the desert. There they must face the dangers of the environment, of the natives of the planet, and of the worms, giant (really, really giant) sandworms, who devour everything that they sense.
Herbert has included every aspect of his created world in this book--the language patterns, the politics, the mythology, the religion, the life-style, the environment. His treatment of the science of desert ecology is apparently accurate (so I have read). Mysticism and mind-enhancing drugs also enter in, which may be one reason this book was so popular in the late '60s. This world is so clearly delineated that I would recognize it immediately if I ever found myself there.
The plot here is intricate and not easily anticipated; the politics are also intricate; the characters are somewhat archetypal, but that is fitting.
One must wonder at the kind of mind that can create an entire alternative universe. I believe these authors must have entered that universe themselves, because all three wrote sequels (and sequels) and included the universe in other things they wrote. Is it possible those universes do exist, or did exist once, or will exist in the future? (What a hippy-dippy comment!)
Suffice it to say, if you have the kind of mind that can suspend disbelief and escape from reality, you should read Dune and at least two of its sequels. If you have not read them already.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Dead Souls by Nicolai Gogol
In the mid-1800s in Russia, the protagonist Pavel Chichikov is traveling through the countryside buying up dead souls--serfs who have died since the last census. Under the laws of the time, the owners have to pay taxes on their serfs, even if they have died, until the next census. By selling them, as if they were still alive, the owners would profit. But why would anyone buy them?
Chichikov has a plan. When he has collected the papers of enough dead souls, he can mortgage them (as if they were alive) and earn enough to buy his own estate. Of course, all this is illegal and most owners have to be tricked and lied to so that they will go along with him, but he is surprisingly successful. Until things start falling apart, that is.
This is basically a picaresque novel, much like 'Don Quixote,' with Chichikov meeting a different type of owner in each chapter. All this is intended to be very humorous, with most of the humor based on exaggeration. According to the introduction to the edition I read, the novel also contains many instances of playing with words, puns, humorous names, and so forth. All this was lost on me.
This edition also included parts of a sequel to the original book, which was not completed when Gogol died. The second part was much more serious in tone, and seemed almost preachy about the sad state of Russia at the time.
'Dead Souls' is a very famous and respected book, particularly in Russia. For some reason--cultural difference, ignorance about Russian history, a poor translation,
poor understanding on my part, whatever--I found it a chore to read.
If you feel inclined to read this novel, disregard this review. 'Dead Souls' has been considered a classic since 1842, and my opinion matters little.
Chichikov has a plan. When he has collected the papers of enough dead souls, he can mortgage them (as if they were alive) and earn enough to buy his own estate. Of course, all this is illegal and most owners have to be tricked and lied to so that they will go along with him, but he is surprisingly successful. Until things start falling apart, that is.
This is basically a picaresque novel, much like 'Don Quixote,' with Chichikov meeting a different type of owner in each chapter. All this is intended to be very humorous, with most of the humor based on exaggeration. According to the introduction to the edition I read, the novel also contains many instances of playing with words, puns, humorous names, and so forth. All this was lost on me.
This edition also included parts of a sequel to the original book, which was not completed when Gogol died. The second part was much more serious in tone, and seemed almost preachy about the sad state of Russia at the time.
'Dead Souls' is a very famous and respected book, particularly in Russia. For some reason--cultural difference, ignorance about Russian history, a poor translation,
poor understanding on my part, whatever--I found it a chore to read.
If you feel inclined to read this novel, disregard this review. 'Dead Souls' has been considered a classic since 1842, and my opinion matters little.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
The Suffrage of Elvira by V.S. Naipaul
Contrary to my expectations, this novel was actually humorous, although it does point out a serious problem. This last novel I read by this author, 'A House for Mr. Biswas,' was very depressing to me. Sometimes a book can be so well-done about a tragic situation that it can be agonizing to read, and that was the case with 'Mr. Biswas' for me. This one also highlights serious issues, but the treatment is lighter.
The new democracy of Trinidad is having only its second elections (1950), and Surujpat Harbans, a Hindu, is running for office. To win he must secure the votes of the Hindus, the Moslims, and the Spanish. He has little chance of getting the Negro vote, because his opponent is a Negro. So he courts influential men who have influence in the various factions, offering them jobs and favors to help him. Superstitious elements also come into play: two Jehovah's Witnesses ladies and a black dog thought to be an evil spirit. So what does he do? He buys the vote, essentially, with little favors to various segments.
Forgive me for translating this story, in my mind, to today's America. We have the Republicans, the Democrats, the Hispanic vote, the Negro vote. In Trinidad, in 1950, the differing religious elements were mostly cultural differences. In America, in 2011, the two political parties seem to be more and more aligned along religious interpretations. And if you don't think superstition comes into play, think again of the reliance some put on the Book of Revelations. And what do most people do? Follow some influential leader of their segment who tells them what to think.
Back to the novel. Naipaul's dialogue is excellent; the wheeling and dealing of various factions to gain the most benefits are funny; the conclusion is even funnier, in a dark-humor kind of way. It's a very interesting book to read.
Naipaul seems to be making a comments about the pitfalls of democracy, but perhaps I am reading that in, though I think not. I recommend reading this book and thinking about elections in the USA at the same time.
This novel has an outstanding first sentence: "That afternoon Mr Surujpat Harbans nearly killed the two white women and the black bitch."
The new democracy of Trinidad is having only its second elections (1950), and Surujpat Harbans, a Hindu, is running for office. To win he must secure the votes of the Hindus, the Moslims, and the Spanish. He has little chance of getting the Negro vote, because his opponent is a Negro. So he courts influential men who have influence in the various factions, offering them jobs and favors to help him. Superstitious elements also come into play: two Jehovah's Witnesses ladies and a black dog thought to be an evil spirit. So what does he do? He buys the vote, essentially, with little favors to various segments.
Forgive me for translating this story, in my mind, to today's America. We have the Republicans, the Democrats, the Hispanic vote, the Negro vote. In Trinidad, in 1950, the differing religious elements were mostly cultural differences. In America, in 2011, the two political parties seem to be more and more aligned along religious interpretations. And if you don't think superstition comes into play, think again of the reliance some put on the Book of Revelations. And what do most people do? Follow some influential leader of their segment who tells them what to think.
Back to the novel. Naipaul's dialogue is excellent; the wheeling and dealing of various factions to gain the most benefits are funny; the conclusion is even funnier, in a dark-humor kind of way. It's a very interesting book to read.
Naipaul seems to be making a comments about the pitfalls of democracy, but perhaps I am reading that in, though I think not. I recommend reading this book and thinking about elections in the USA at the same time.
This novel has an outstanding first sentence: "That afternoon Mr Surujpat Harbans nearly killed the two white women and the black bitch."
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Andorra by Peter Cameron
This is a strange book about escaping reality and about deceit--deceiving others and self deceit. It could be read as a straight mystery, perhaps, although the solution to the puzzle is easily anticipated. The dream-like first-person narration quickly alerts the reader that this book contains undercurrents that don't fit the mystery genre.
Mr. Fox travels from America to the fictionalized country of Andorra to live, when he is "compelled by circumstances to begin my life again in some new place." From his room at the top of the Excelsior Hotel, he sees a picture-perfect seaside town, and his room, according to his first guest, is "God's room," complete with an antique alter. But he does not live for long in these perfect heights, and when he descends to the town he quickly becomes enmeshed in a downward spiral.
He becomes acquainted with an unusual assortment of people, all with secrets from which they wish to escape. Then a mutilated dead body is found at the harbor, and both the narrator and one of his new friends are suspect--that's the on-the-surface mystery part.
The real mystery lies in the hidden lives and troubled souls of the characters. All, most particularly the narrator, seem to be attempting to create a dream world where everything will be perfect.
I found this novel to be almost very good, but not quite. It is subtle, but not enough so, perhaps. It was certainly interesting.
Mr. Fox travels from America to the fictionalized country of Andorra to live, when he is "compelled by circumstances to begin my life again in some new place." From his room at the top of the Excelsior Hotel, he sees a picture-perfect seaside town, and his room, according to his first guest, is "God's room," complete with an antique alter. But he does not live for long in these perfect heights, and when he descends to the town he quickly becomes enmeshed in a downward spiral.
He becomes acquainted with an unusual assortment of people, all with secrets from which they wish to escape. Then a mutilated dead body is found at the harbor, and both the narrator and one of his new friends are suspect--that's the on-the-surface mystery part.
The real mystery lies in the hidden lives and troubled souls of the characters. All, most particularly the narrator, seem to be attempting to create a dream world where everything will be perfect.
I found this novel to be almost very good, but not quite. It is subtle, but not enough so, perhaps. It was certainly interesting.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Pnin by Vladimir Nabokov
Timofey Pnin is a Russian immigrant to America, with less than a firm grasp on the English language, who teaches Russian at a small college. The seven chapters of this book could all be self-contained short stories, but taken together they make up a life story of the adventures and misadventures of the hero, who is so brilliantly and lovingly portrayed that I forgot he was a character in a novel and wished he had been one of my professors.
Pnin is an intellectual but not a snob (he invites the college janitor to his party); a loyal lover (he befriends the precocious son of his ex-wife's second husband); an innocent amidst the intrigues and pettiness of academia (he fails even to realize that colleagues are ridiculing him for his poor grasp of Americanism). Always well intentioned and kind, he does the best he can to bungle along in a new environment, always longing for the Russia that once was.
Along with this, Nabokov manages to be very funny about the pitfalls of an immigrant, college politics, and just life in general. His satire is pointed, but gentle, without the bitterness that some satirists carry. And the writing is very poetic and wistful.
I especially loved this bit because I can wholly relate: "His life was a constant war with insensate objects that fell apart, or attacked him, or refused to function, or viciously got themselves lost as soon as they entered the sphere of his existence." Pnin and I have something in common.
Lately I have been reading some of the less well-known novels by writers who are celebrated for one "special" book. Sometimes I find pleasant surprises: I like Steinbeck's 'East of Eden' better than his more well-known 'The Grapes of Wrath.'
Sometimes I find that the less-well-known deserve to be so: nothing else I have read by Joseph Heller ('Catch 22') or F. Scott Fitzgerald ('The Great Gatsby') even approaches the masterwork.
Nabokov's masterwork is 'Lolita,' very creepy but one of the best books I have ever read. 'Pale Fire,' which I recently read, seems deliberately an intellectual exercise, devoid of emotional connection to the reader. 'Pnin,' by contrast, is emotional and, dare I say it, sweet. These three almost seemed to be written by different people, but, I can only assume, represent different facets of Nabokov's talent. And he is talented, no doubt about it. Recommended.
Pnin is an intellectual but not a snob (he invites the college janitor to his party); a loyal lover (he befriends the precocious son of his ex-wife's second husband); an innocent amidst the intrigues and pettiness of academia (he fails even to realize that colleagues are ridiculing him for his poor grasp of Americanism). Always well intentioned and kind, he does the best he can to bungle along in a new environment, always longing for the Russia that once was.
Along with this, Nabokov manages to be very funny about the pitfalls of an immigrant, college politics, and just life in general. His satire is pointed, but gentle, without the bitterness that some satirists carry. And the writing is very poetic and wistful.
I especially loved this bit because I can wholly relate: "His life was a constant war with insensate objects that fell apart, or attacked him, or refused to function, or viciously got themselves lost as soon as they entered the sphere of his existence." Pnin and I have something in common.
Lately I have been reading some of the less well-known novels by writers who are celebrated for one "special" book. Sometimes I find pleasant surprises: I like Steinbeck's 'East of Eden' better than his more well-known 'The Grapes of Wrath.'
Sometimes I find that the less-well-known deserve to be so: nothing else I have read by Joseph Heller ('Catch 22') or F. Scott Fitzgerald ('The Great Gatsby') even approaches the masterwork.
Nabokov's masterwork is 'Lolita,' very creepy but one of the best books I have ever read. 'Pale Fire,' which I recently read, seems deliberately an intellectual exercise, devoid of emotional connection to the reader. 'Pnin,' by contrast, is emotional and, dare I say it, sweet. These three almost seemed to be written by different people, but, I can only assume, represent different facets of Nabokov's talent. And he is talented, no doubt about it. Recommended.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers
Carson McCullers is proof positive that a writer can produce an important, enduring book without innovative use of language or narrative structure, without waxing especially eloquent in descriptive passages, without sparkling dialogue or an intricate plot. McCullers tells her story simply, with understanding and compassion for the loneliness in all of us.
The pivotal character, around whom all the others circle, is Singer, a deaf mute who can communicate in sign, but who also reads lips and writes notes to communicate with the hearing world. The novel tells the stories of four searchers for meaning and beauty who are drawn to him because he "listens" and seems to be the one person who really understands them. Blount is a wanderer and a hard drinker, passionate about the inequality in America between the rich and the poor, convinced that a revolution must occur but unable to convince anyone to act. Doctor Copeland is a black physician who has spent his life trying to educate his people and convince them to seek equality with the white world, only to find his message falling on "deaf" ears, even in his own family. Mick is a young girl on the cusp of womanhood, who is obsessed with classical music and the desire to achieve something with her life, far away from the struggle against poverty of her family. Biff Brannon is the owner of the cafe where Singer eats, who is searching for love and beauty in his life. As for Singer, he "listens" to his new friends, but he longs for his old friend, Antonapoulos, another deaf mute, who has been sent by his family to a mental hospital. Only to Antonapoulos can Singer communicate his hopes and longings, even though his friend may not even understand what he is signing.
McCullers' writing style is very calm and the action is slow, so that when terrible, violent events happen, they come as a complete surprise (as they do in real life). The reader is "struck speechless."
I suppose this could be viewed as a very depressing book, yet it ends with a hint of hope--not that the characters will achieve their dreams but that they will at least keep trying.
I re-read this book, first read many years ago, after seeing the old movie made from it on TCM last Sunday. I had not thought previous to re-reading about how much this resembles 'Winesburg, Ohio' by Sherwood Anderson, which I recently read for the first time. Surely Anderson must have been an inspiration for McCullers, since his was written many years before hers. But I believe McCullers did a better job.
'The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter' is #17 on the Modern Library Top 100 and is also included in the Time Top 100. Essential reading, for sure.
The pivotal character, around whom all the others circle, is Singer, a deaf mute who can communicate in sign, but who also reads lips and writes notes to communicate with the hearing world. The novel tells the stories of four searchers for meaning and beauty who are drawn to him because he "listens" and seems to be the one person who really understands them. Blount is a wanderer and a hard drinker, passionate about the inequality in America between the rich and the poor, convinced that a revolution must occur but unable to convince anyone to act. Doctor Copeland is a black physician who has spent his life trying to educate his people and convince them to seek equality with the white world, only to find his message falling on "deaf" ears, even in his own family. Mick is a young girl on the cusp of womanhood, who is obsessed with classical music and the desire to achieve something with her life, far away from the struggle against poverty of her family. Biff Brannon is the owner of the cafe where Singer eats, who is searching for love and beauty in his life. As for Singer, he "listens" to his new friends, but he longs for his old friend, Antonapoulos, another deaf mute, who has been sent by his family to a mental hospital. Only to Antonapoulos can Singer communicate his hopes and longings, even though his friend may not even understand what he is signing.
McCullers' writing style is very calm and the action is slow, so that when terrible, violent events happen, they come as a complete surprise (as they do in real life). The reader is "struck speechless."
I suppose this could be viewed as a very depressing book, yet it ends with a hint of hope--not that the characters will achieve their dreams but that they will at least keep trying.
I re-read this book, first read many years ago, after seeing the old movie made from it on TCM last Sunday. I had not thought previous to re-reading about how much this resembles 'Winesburg, Ohio' by Sherwood Anderson, which I recently read for the first time. Surely Anderson must have been an inspiration for McCullers, since his was written many years before hers. But I believe McCullers did a better job.
'The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter' is #17 on the Modern Library Top 100 and is also included in the Time Top 100. Essential reading, for sure.
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