The Big Sleep

The heat in this disreputable part of the old town was truly oppressive. It was not the kind of sultry heat that one might find bearable, but rather a stifling, suffocating heat that made it feel as if the very air was too thick to breathe. All I desired was to rid myself of the sweat-clinging skin of the day and stand under a freezing shower for what felt like an eternity, perhaps a week. And if I could follow that up with a few slugs of bourbon, with ice cold cubes swimming merrily within it, well, that was a matter that concerned only me.

She, however, would not have it. She stared at me from the spot where I had unceremoniously discarded her on the beat-up couch. Her gaze was a burning reprimand, sizzling with an intensity that seemed to come from eyes that didn't even exist. She was wearing a lurid red jacket that fit her to perfection. Despite her small stature, I could sense that she contained multitudes.

She held within her intense action, calculating sleuthing that owed more than a little to hunches and dumb luck than I would have cared to admit. There was also some tantalising passion that threatened to consume me within her papery arms.

She had finished telling me her tumultuous tale during the long, hot drive back from my office this evening. Her words entered me as intimately as any lover's whisper, as the hot air pummelled me through the open car windows without offering a shred of relief. I made a mental note to get that AC fixed.

I knew precisely what she wanted. She wanted what they all ultimately desired. She couldn't simply let me relax and move on to another love when I was good and ready. No, she wanted me to review her, fast and dirty, right there on the couch, the vixen. Why couldn't these chippies just leave me in peace?

I supposed that peace was too much to ask for a broken-down, half-dead bum like me. But I would show her. She thought she had left me trapped in a corner on a hot night with no choice but to give in and review. However, I had been around the block a few times and knew a few tricks myself. The secret was to move fast, before she fixed me with another freezing glance. I feinted right, and she glanced at my piece just as I had hoped. Meanwhile, my south paw clicked on 'Save', and I hightailed it out of there as if Beelzebub himself was hot on my tail.

Buddy read with Sunshine Seaspray. Now there's a gallon of trouble in a half-pint glass...

It is always a great pleasure to revisit a remarkable book and find that it exceeds one's memories. However, it can be quite humbling to realize that what was once regarded as its most blatant defect is actually one of its greatest strengths. This was precisely my recent experience with Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep.

I had read it twice before, once twenty years ago and once forty years ago, and I have admired it ever since for its captivating metaphors, vivid scenes, and tough dialogue. Above all, I am deeply fond of its hero, Philip Marlowe, who is like a shining knight in a tarnished and unchivalrous world.

But although I recalled Chandler's metaphors with delight, I also tended to dismiss them as overly elaborate and excessive. Having read numerous imitations of Chandler and watched many parodies, I had come to view his images as exotic and overripe, only able to survive in a hothouse environment, like the corrupt orchids that the aged and perpetually chilly General Sternwood raises as an excuse for the heat.

This time around, I refused to let individual metaphors distract me. Instead, I allowed the entirety of the imagery, including the detailed description of the settings, to work its magic. When I did so, I was not only pleased by the aptness of the descriptive passages but also surprised by the restraint of most of the metaphors. True, there are a few outrageous similes, but they are always used deliberately, for humor or shock value, and often refer to the General's daughter Carmen, who gets exactly what she deserves. Overall, the sustained effect of the imagery is to vividly and atmospherically evoke the beauty and corruption of Los Angeles.

However, first and foremost, the author's imagery is also that of the narrator Marlowe, just as it is with Joseph Conrad's narrator Marlow. And because of this, it reveals to us the core of Marlowe's personal darkness: his place in the world, the person he aspires to be, and the profound gap between the two.

Chandler introduces us to Marlowe at the Sternwood's palatial mansion, a medieval gothic structure within sight of—but fortunately upwind from—the stinking detritus of Sternwood's first oil well, which is the foundation of the family fortune. Over the hallway entrance, a stained-glass window depicts a knight who is clumsily—Marlowe thinks unsuccessfully—attempting to free a captive maiden (her nakedness concealed only by her long flowing hair) from the ropes that bind her. Marlowe's initial instinct? He wants to climb up there and offer his assistance. He doesn't believe the guy is truly making an effort.

Thus, from the very beginning, the despoilation of L.A., the corruption of big money, and a vision of chivalric romance complicated by sexuality—a vision that encompasses both the urgency and impotence of knight-errantry—reflect Philip Marlowe's character and concerns. As the book progresses, the ghost of Rusty Reagan, an embodiment of modern-day romance (Irish rebel soldier, rum-runner, crack shot), becomes not only part of Marlowe's quest but also his double, another young man with “a soldier's eye” carrying out General Sternwood's orders, lost in the polluted world of L.A. At the climax of the novel, everything that can be resolved is resolved, as Marlowe, the ghost of Reagan, and one of the Sternwoods meet amidst the stench of the family's abandoned oil well.

Afterwards, though, all Marlowe can think about is Eddie Mars' wife, the captive “maiden” who cut off all of her once-long hair to prove she didn't mind being confined (“Silver-Wig” Marlowe calls her), who rescued him from killers by cutting his ropes with a knife, but who is still so in love with her corrupt gambler husband that Marlowe cannot even begin to save her.

You know what a McGuffin is? It’s defined as:

“an object or device in a movie or a book that serves merely as a trigger for the plot.”

A McGuffin may seem important, even vital, but it’s really only a writer’s trick to move things along. On this, my third time through The Big Sleep, I had an epiphany — for Raymond Chandler, the plot itself was the McGuffin.

Sure, a plot seems vital, but for Chandler it was just a trick to show his hard bitten hero in action, a slight of hand through which he could display startling similes and marvelous metaphors, delivered through rapid fire, staccato sentences. In the end, you don’t even miss it.

Do they teach Chandler in academia? If not, they should. In The Big Sleep, he transformed genre ghetto, pulp fiction writing into true art.

Writing for small remuneration and even less respect, he created an American masterpiece. It’s a book that thrills you the first time through. Then you have to read the rest of his Philip Marlowe novels. Then you’re done, and it makes you a little sad, until you remember that you can read them all over again.

That is when you discover (if you haven’t already) that what comes off as a fun thrill read is really a work of literary genius.

(Word to the wise — experience this book through Phoenix Audio. Elliott Gould, who played Philip Marlowe in Robert Altman’s 1973 film, The Long Goodbye, narrates. His voice is as perfect for the book as Bogart’s face was for the movie version.)

Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep is truly a remarkable work. The concept of the McGuffin as applied to the plot here is fascinating. Chandler uses the plot not for its own sake but as a means to showcase his brilliant writing style. His ability to create vivid characters and use powerful language is what makes this book a classic.

Academia should indeed take notice of Chandler's work. He has elevated the status of pulp fiction and shown that it can be a form of true art. Despite the humble beginnings of his writing career, he has left a lasting legacy.

The experience of reading The Big Sleep is one that stays with you. It's not just a simple thriller but a work that reveals its true genius upon multiple readings. And with Elliott Gould's narration in the Phoenix Audio version, the book comes to life in an even more engaging way.

Overall, The Big Sleep is a must-read for anyone who appreciates great literature and wants to experience the magic of Raymond Chandler's writing.

“Tall, aren't you?” she said.
“I didn't mean to be.”
Her eyes rounded. She was puzzled. She was thinking. I could see, even on that short acquaintance, that thinking was always going to be a bother to her.
― Raymond Chandler, The Big Sleep

A masterpiece of flowing words. Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep is a captivating novel that takes the reader on a thrilling journey. Marlowe, the protagonist, finds himself investigating two daughters who seem to be on the road to Perdition. As he delves deeper, he discovers that the situation is far darker than he initially expected. There are many twists and turns in the plot that keep the reader on the edge of their seat.

There's a lot to say about this book, but many others have already said it. They're right. It's brilliant. The writing is engaging and the characters are well-developed. I personally prefer the novel, but I also listened to the audio version and Elliot Gould did an outstanding job with his voices. He truly caught the spirit of the book and brought the characters to life. Overall, I would give The Big Sleep an A minus grade. It's a must-read for fans of mystery and detective novels.

What did it matter where you lay once you were dead? In a dirty sump or in a marble tower on top of a high hill? You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered by things like that. You just slept the big sleep, not caring about the nastiness of how you died or where you fell. Me, I was part of the nastiness now.

So concludes Philip Marlowe at the end of this case. I'm really glad I didn't know the story beforehand, having never watched the movie. I didn't see whodunnit until the very end.

This is a fabulous original crime noir novel where no one is ever really innocent and everyone has secrets to hide. I loved the style of writing and could have quoted from almost every page. Marlowe is an honest-ish, hard boiled gum shoe, fast-off-the-trigger-with-those-wisecracks, who's been around the block a few times. There are foxy dames, chain smoking, cyanide, blackmail, extortion, murder, insanity. What more can you ask for? It's truly fabulous!

The story keeps you on the edge of your seat, with its twists and turns. The characters are well-developed and the atmosphere is dark and gritty. It's a classic of the crime noir genre and a must-read for any fan of mystery and detective novels.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a good mystery with a touch of darkness and a lot of style.

“It seemed like a nice neighborhood to have bad habits in.”

It has been a long time since I delved into an older detective-driven novel. However, this one served as a wonderful means to break the ice and re-enter the genre. It received high ratings, yet I had never heard of it until it became a group read. Apparently, there is also a movie based on it. Where on earth have I been hiding?

Philip Marlowe is an "honest" individual - blunt and bold in the face of authority. Like numerous detectives, he adheres to his own moral code and street system. He doesn't strictly abide by the letter of the law, particularly when it comes to disclosing certain things. Nevertheless, he does right by his clients (when it is appropriate) and follows his conscience. The other key characters are not entirely stereotypical. We do encounter an ice-cold woman who desires to manipulate men, but the older and ailing client who hires Marlowe has some unique qualities. There are also some crazy characters in here that add a touch of the bizarre. The characters suit the plot well and are not in cookie-cutter molds. If they seem rather typical, I remind myself that since this is an older book, it was probably more novel at the time.

“I don’t mind if you don’t like my manners. They’re pretty bad. I grieve over them during the long winter evenings.”

The mystery aspect is not overly shocking, but it is well thought out and takes creative and patient routes to reach its conclusion. Marlowe actually has to conduct investigations - he rarely sits back and simply ponders the case. He is constantly on the move, interrogating, witnessing chaos, avoiding dangerous violence himself, and pressing all the right buttons. Therefore, the pacing is not bad. Something is always happening, so the book progresses quickly.

Raymond Chandler writes skillfully, and it is easy to become immersed in the written world he has created. It is definitely not politically correct, especially when it comes to comments on homosexuals and to a lesser extent, Jews. However, this was common during the time period in which it was written. I simply find it rather amusing now, but then again, I rarely choose to be offended by much of anything.

This is a good hardboiled detective novel, complete with mafia-like thugs, wealthy clients, questionable police associations, and femme fatales. It offers an engaging and entertaining read that showcases Chandler's talent for creating a gritty and atmospheric detective story.

Raymond Chandler (1888 - 1959) is one of the most renowned mystery story writers. Compared to other famous mystery writers such as "Agatha Christie" or "Georges Simenon", he didn't write a large number of works. However, the number of his novels and short stories is among the most significant in the history of mystery and crime literature. Chandler's masterpiece and his most famous novel is undoubtedly "The Big Sleep". This book is Chandler's first novel and also the first story in which his beloved and iconic detective, Philip Marlowe, appears.

The popularity of "The Big Sleep" soared to such an extent that in 1946, a film was made based on it, with Humphrey Bogart starring as Philip Marlowe. This film further enhanced the fame of the novel and solidified Chandler's status as a master of the mystery genre. His writing style, characterized by sharp dialogue and vivid descriptions, has had a profound influence on subsequent generations of mystery writers.

Chandler's works not only provide thrilling detective stories but also offer insights into the social and moral issues of his time. Through the eyes of Philip Marlowe, readers are able to witness the seedy underbelly of society and the complex人性 that lies beneath. His works continue to be widely read and studied today, testament to their enduring appeal.

When Howard Hawks was in the process of preparing the film version, he dispatched a telegram to Ray. The message read: "Who killed the chauffeur Owen Taylor?" Chandler, known for his unwavering honesty, promptly wired back with a simple response: "I don't know." Subsequently, the Warner brothers lodged a complaint with Hawks, asking, "Why are you squandering our money on telegrams?"

And that sums it all up.

This is Chandler's screwball musical, a tribute to Rodgers & Hart. It features a collection of hit tunes such as "The Lady is a Tramp," "Where or When," "To Keep My Love Alive," "You Took Advantage of Me," and "I Didn't Know What Time It Was."

It is truly brilliant, sardonic, and poetic, with Chandler's writing style that is reminiscent of Busby Berkeley's choreographic work.

Overall, this musical offers a unique and engaging experience that combines elements of humor, music, and creative writing. It is a must-see for fans of Chandler and Rodgers & Hart alike.