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.

The Sternwood House Over Yonder

You're truly cute, and that's a fact that can't be ignored.

I'm well aware of it.

Moreover, you possess broad shoulders, which give you an air of strength and reliability.

Yes, I know that too.

Your eyes, they are rather wicked, full of mystery and allure.

It's also true that you have a lovely way with women, charming them with ease.

And let's not forget your beautiful little body.

But when you ask if I'd like to get into bed with you, my answer is not really.

What? Are you thinking I'm afraid of your father?

No, that's not it at all. The truth is, I just happen to like your sister more.

[[[Bang!]]]

SOUNDTRACK:

Jimi Hendrix - \\"Red House\\"

https://vimeo.com/312963979

Part Of The Nastiness Now

Raymond Chandler's "Farewell, My Lovely" was his second novel, and it was my first encounter with Chandler's works. For my second Chandler novel, I decided to go back to his debut, "The Big Sleep". This novel introduces the private detective Philip Marlowe, who is not only central to "Farewell, My Lovely" but also features in a series of Chandler's novels. Marlowe has emerged as an iconic literary figure, representing the American experience with his unique blend of toughness, loyalty, and innocence.

The story is set in Los Angeles during the October of the 1930s, with all the action unfolding within a single week. Marlowe narrates the story in the first person. An elderly, dying, and wealthy man named General Sternwood, who made his fortune in the oil industry, seeks Marlowe's help in finding the blackmailer of Carmen, the younger of his two daughters. Both daughters, Vivian in her 20s and Carmen in her late teens, are wild and sexually promiscuous. The older daughter's husband, Rusty Regan, has disappeared, but Sternwood does not ask Marlowe to solve the mystery of his disappearance.

The plot of the book becomes highly convoluted, involving a plethora of shady characters and confusing incidents. However, in "The Big Sleep", plotting is at best of secondary importance. The real appeal of the book lies in its writing style, its vivid depiction of places and characters, and above all, in the portrayal of Marlowe. Marlowe's character holds the book together. He is in his mid-30s, educated, unmarried, and somewhat of a loner. It is never explicitly stated why he became a detective. Marlowe has an extraordinary gift for words, precise descriptions, and often outlandish metaphors. Despite working in a dangerous and rough business, he charges only 25 dollars a day. He is unfailingly loyal to his employer and honest in a world rife with corruption. Marlowe drinks and smokes heavily, has his prejudices, and is susceptible to the charm of women. He also relies a great deal on luck. His reflective and thoughtful outlook on life elevates the book beyond the typical stereotype of crime fiction. In "The Big Sleep", Marlowe comes to understand the nature and finality of death and realizes that he, like every person, is part of death's inevitability: "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."

For its time, "The Big Sleep" tackled highly sexually explicit themes. Much of the story revolves around pornography, the gangsters involved in the trade, the women they exploited, and the customers. The book offers a seedy and raw portrayal of a business that was not yet legal and which Chandler clearly found abhorrent. It depicts all kinds of sleazy individuals, from street runners to hardened racketeers involved in extortion, gambling, bootlegging, and pornography. The work also portrays individuals within the law, including the police, with varying degrees of sympathy. The shabby rooming houses, hotels, and offices in the story are juxtaposed with the luxurious locations of wealth, such as Sternwood's estate. The vivid depiction of the underbelly of Los Angeles, both in terms of people and places, and Marlowe's response of becoming "part of the nastiness now" give the book its unique character, which is somehow romantic, gritty, and repellent. The language of the book is relatively tame by today's standards, as it avoids expletives. Conversely, the writing is not bound by modern standards of political correctness.

Here is an example of Marlowe's skill in depicting places as he visits a rundown and decrepit office building that houses disreputable tenants: "My rubber heels slithered on the sidewalk as I turned into the narrow lobby of the Fulwider Building. A simple drop light burned far back, beyond an open, once gilt elevator. There was a tarnished and well-missed spittoon on a gnawed rubber mat. A case of false teeth hung on the mustard-colored wall like a fuse box on a screen porch. I shook the rain off my hat and looked at the building directory beside the case of teeth. Numbers with names and numbers without names. Plenty of vacancies or plenty of tenants who wished to remain anonymous. Painless dentists, shyster detective agencies, small sick businesses that had crawled there to die, mail order schools that would teach you how to become a railroad clerk or a radio technician or a screen writer -- if the postal inspectors didn't catch up with them first. A nasty building. A building in which the smell of cigar butts would be the cleanest odor."

With its engaging language, detailed descriptions, and the development of the character of Philip Marlowe, the book manages to hold the reader's attention throughout the complexities of its plotting. "The Big Sleep" has become an important work in American genre fiction, not only in the detective story genre but also in the noir genre. More importantly, the book demonstrates how American literature at its best resists easy categorizations between popular and highbrow or between the serious and the merely entertaining.

My first encounter with Raymond Chandler was truly a remarkable experience. I thought his work was simply fantastic. His writing voice was so distinct and captivating. The mystery he presented was not only intriguing but also had an added depth that made it truly special.

Philip Marlowe, the protagonist, is an excellent private detective because he has a remarkable ability to read people. He doesn't waste time pondering over situations and trying to figure out the answers intellectually. Instead, he observes people closely and really sees them for who they are.

The story is complex, but the complexity lies mainly in the characters. Are they telling the truth or not? This is the question that Marlowe constantly has to grapple with, and it's fascinating to see what clues he picks up on to answer it. The quotes from the book, such as "He sounded like a man who had slept well and didn't owe too much money" and "The purring voice was now as false as an usherette's eyelashes and as slippery as a watermelon seed," really bring the characters to life.

And then there's the noir aspect of the story. I just can't resist it. I find it delicious, perhaps because my own life is relatively squeaky clean and the contrast is appealing. Additionally, I have a real soft spot for the 1930s, especially 1930s California. This is partly due to my family history and also influenced by old movies. Each time I read something set in this time and place, my love for it grows stronger.

The descriptions of the era, like "From behind a communicating door came the sound of a typewriter clacking monotonously to the bell, to the shift, line after line," really evoke a sense of nostalgia. If you've ever heard that sound, you'll remember it, especially if it was in an old office building with its tall, wood-trimmed doors of pebbled glass and tile floors that made the clack of the typewriter echo down the hallway. It's a sound that is now lost to history.

These emblems of the time, such as the typewriters, the Stetsons, the coupes, and the conversations that relay a kind of jaunty cynicism, are all juxtaposed with the horrific misogyny, prejudice, and small-mindedness that were also prevalent during that period. I'm glad I didn't have to live then, but all that negative stuff somehow makes the little period details stand out and shine. It all makes for a really fun and engaging read.

Probably the best annotated book I ever read is the classic Annotated Alice by Martin Gardner. It truly makes you re-see and appreciate many aspects of Lewis Carroll's book. Of course, if you read literature, say any Shakespeare, you'll appreciate having the footnotes as you read. One summer, I read Ulysses without a guidebook, and then again with one. As a result, it was a much richer experience for me. Reading an annotated book is in many ways like taking a master class on one book, and this is the case with the work of Owen Hill, Pamela Jackson, and Anthony Dean Rizzuto.

You get a rich stew of personal letters, excerpts from the original stories, lots about the LA Chandler loved and hated, film connections, some translations of gangster lingo (which would be useful especially for first-time readers who knew nothing about the genre), and some analyses of the novel from the perspectives of class, gender, sexuality, and ethnicity.

I'll re-post my original review of Chandler's book below. I have read it maybe three times now, but thanks to the annotations, I gained a deeper appreciation for the book. I can say I mainly read this now because I was going to visit Los Angeles, and Chandler's book is one of the great L.A. books.

Of L.A., he writes that it was "dark with something other than night." His Philip Marlowe stood against the corruption of that city's gangsters and crooked cops, and also the rich, such as the Sternwood family that is central to this story.

What's a bit of what I learned?

* That Chandler's book was created in part from short stories he had published in pulp rags such as Black Mask.

* I knew this before, but had it reconfirmed that Chandler was interested more in character and language than plot. For instance, people would write to him and ask who killed the butler, Owen Taylor. Chandler always said he didn't know, and I don't think he really cared.

* Chandler, on writing noir: "When in doubt, have a man come through a door with a gun."

* Chandler understood that mystery was as much about melodrama as anything else, using some of the literary tools of realism with a dose of heightened emotions, especially fear.

* Chandler had two literary heroes he references throughout: Hemingway and Hammett.

* Though Chandler owed something to Camus' The Stranger, his Marlowe was much more of a good man, a kind of knight fighting corruption in the city.

* The editors think the book could have been more appropriately titled Not Looking for Rusty Regan, since he denies he is looking for this guy throughout the book. I like that.

8/25/17 review:

“You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered by things like that, oil and water were the same as wind and air to you. You just slept the big sleep, not caring about the nastiness of how you died or where you fell”--Chandler

Raymond Chandler decided to become a detective fiction writer after losing his job as an oil company executive during the Depression. He published some short stories, honing his craft, and finally made his debut. The Big Sleep was published in 1939 and made a justifiable name for himself. The real accomplishments include 1) clever dialogue, 2) some kinda ridiculous but wonderful noir “poetic” description and philosophizing, and 3) a great hard-boiled detective, Philip Marlowe.

The novel is deservedly renowned, but it may best be known perhaps for a film version with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall that is almost universally loved in spite of the critical claim of its incoherence. Everybody (but a few critics care) disdains coherence; they are looking at and listening to Bogart and Bacall.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VjJlB...

I won’t say anything about the plot, which to my mind is not that remarkable here and sort of beside the point. The point is Marlowe. I would describe him as a wisecracker, though he was also much more:

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

One guy he describes as “hatchet-faced.”

Gangster lingo: "You big handsome brute! I oughtta throw a Buick at you."

"I leered at her politely."

“Such a lot of guns around town and so few brains. You’re the second guy I’ve met within hours who seems to think a gat in the hand means a world by the tail.”

“I was neat, clean, shaved and sober, and I didn’t care who knew it.”

And Marlowe gets entangled with or fights off a few women: “She lowered her lashes until they almost cuddled her cheeks and slowly raised them again, like a theatre curtain. I was to get to know that trick. That was supposed to make me roll over on my back with all four paws in the air.”

Dames, huh?

“You can have a hangover from other things than alcohol. I had one from women.”

This is one great scene from the Bogart film:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3t8H0...

And another:

“I sat down on the edge of a deep soft chair and looked at Mrs. Regan. She was worth a stare. She was trouble.”

But it’s not just detective Philip Marlow that is caustically clever; the women get their jabs in, too, as one says:

“Such a nice escort, Mr. Cobb. So attentive. You should see him sober. I should see him sober. Somebody should see him sober. I mean, just for the record. So it could become a part of history, that brief flashing moment, soon buried in time, but never forgotten—when Larry Cobb was sober.”

Some of the more “literary” writing that would more inform his writing later is here:

“Under the thinning fog the surf curled and creamed, almost without sound, like a thought trying to form itself on the edge of consciousness.”

And the film, too, oh boy, but don’t ignore the book, this is the real deal. And it may not even be in the top three books he wrote!