Engaging, thoughtful

One of DeLillo's absolute best

Been working on a script for a few months now with an eerily similar premise to the point where I think I plagiarized this book without even knowing what it was about

this one a pomo noir dress rehearsal for Libra? another love letter to the cold war where everyone speaks in the same clipped sarcasm. I often dont think about whether I ‘like’ a book I’ve read if that makes sense. Do I ‘like’ Delillo because his sentences are just better? because I find very little here beyond a few abstractions he does much better in Underworld and Libra. Its been so long since I read White Noise. I ‘feel’ like I will like The Names and Mao II but I have no explanation for why I feel drawn that way. There should be a critical theory term for it somewhere but its a mysticism that points towards certain names. Delillo would appreciate that. Still I’ll read his other stuff, why not? whats a critical theory term for something thats always ‘good’ but not something I ‘identify’ with? DFW and Franzen worship Delillo but is it his unfettered guyness? hmmmmm

It's hard to follow the plot of this novel, or to remember how the different characters - most of them unpleasant - relate to each other. After finishing the book today I noticed how the strands seemed to have been drawn together (including a predictable plot twist at the end), and I suppose I could have gone back and read it again, this time following the story with more understanding of what was going on. But life is too short, and this novel isn't worth the effort. In its favour, it creates a mildly frantic mood of paranoia that isn't wholly inappropriate - think Iran-Contra, Watergate plumbers, Vietnam hangover, CIA dirty tricks, and so on. The writing is occasionally felicitous, and there is enough surface action (sex and violence) to keep you reading; on balance, though, it's junk food, not a steak dinner.

An investigation into the black market dealings of a prominent U.S. senator leads a journalist onto the trail of a mysterious film, which is rumored to have captured the final days within Hitler’s bunker.

A suspenseful beginning turns altogether sensational as the story grows more darkly comical by the chapter.

Running Dog is a spy thriller. Espionage. Double agents, the like. But also very Delillo, both in that it is basically genre parody, but serious, in the manor of n  Ratner's Starn (here the action revolves around the acquisition of some Hitler-involved smut), and is a successful application of his characteristic style:

Selvy sat on the roof of his building, eating a peach. There was a warm breeze from the west, where the sun hung on a tremulous rim, all ruddle and blood.

Personally I don't think it is among his best, which for me are n  Mao IIn and n  Libran, but I still quite enjoyed it.

Three and a half stars. A mediocre story, but great writing.

“Something new in here.”
“What?” she said….
“It’s a gun. I didn’t see at first from this
angle. A six-shooter.”
“I saw it the day after. Couldn’t resist. Also the story of my life. Not being able to resist.”
“Resist what?”
“Whatever I don’t see clearly.”

Está muy bien, pero no me ha parecido lo mejor de Delillo.

There's a lot of Running Dog that moves because of desire and acquisitiveness, but its last third is more about showing this all to be a weird, self-referential way of holding yourself up against the inevitability of death? Consumerism and sex and conspiracy all ways to make a second self that is humble and domesticated and liked by others, that can inhabit the same body shooting downward into oblivion (and sometimes taking as many others as it can along with it).

Dunno if I liked it, but it was interesting. DeLillo's novels now more, uh, samey? consonant? with one another to me.

I'm not sure why this novel doesn't get more love in the DeLillo canon. I still haven't read Great Jones Street or Ratner's Star yet, but out of the other 70s DeLillo I've read I think this is the best, funniest, and the one where he seems to connect with every swing. It's certainly lighter than most of his 80s work and definitely lighter than the post Underworld stuff, but nonetheless, it's filled with DeLillo's usual fascinations: film, conspiracy, violence, etc. Godard being one of DD's main influences, this novel reminded me very much of Alphaville without the futurism. If you're looking for an avant-detective novel about a supposed porno made by Hitler, this novel is for you. Highly reccomended.

Lo ammetto, non l'ho capito. Non ho capito dove l'autore volesse arrivare, quale storia volesse raccontare o meglio, che significato attribuire a tutto quel garbuglio politico, spionistico, malavitoso, giornalistico e anche un pochino perverso che è la storia di questo romanzo.
Intendiamoci, è scritto bene. Niente da dire, ma che significato attribuire alle varie vicende per me è un mistero.
Se qualcuno ha delucidazioni da darmi è il benvenuto, perché io brancolo nel buio.