The Big Sleep
(1939) by Raymond Chandler
Perhaps
The Maltese
Falcon,
plus all the clips of black-and-white Bogart films I've seen over the
years, made me think that all crime fiction would be dark and
depressing. After all, Hammett's novel wasn't exactly chipper. But I
wasn't even past the first page of The
Big Sleep
when I started chuckling. This, I thought, this is gonna be an
enjoyable ride.
Let
me explain by example. Philip Marlowe, narrator and private eye
extraordinaire, cockily presents himself as "neat, clean, shaved
and sober, and I didn't care who knew it. I was everything the
well-dressed private detective ought to be. I was calling on four
million dollars." BAM.
You can't beat a description like that. And the clocks on his socks?
Wonderful touch.
It was the next paragraph that really set the tone for the whole
novel, though, in several ways. First, the humor: Marlowe describes a
stained-glass panel of a knight "rescuing a lady who was tied to
a tree and didn't have any clothes on but some very long and
convenient hair." That "convenient" just killed me,
because we've all seen art like that, and we've all doubted that
specific wisps and locks of hair would be so "conveniently"
placed to as to cover those blush-inducing body parts. But like any
good writer, Chandler spins out this work of art into a complex and
intricate story, at the center of which is a girl who happens to find
herself wardrobe-less on several occasions. The "knight,"
ultimately, is Marlowe; the damsel in distress is Carmen Sternwood.
It's like Chandler is laying it all out for us in the beginning, but
knows that we'll need a lot more information.
What
follows is a complicated tale of double-crossing, missing people who
supposedly ran off but are really dead, a bookstore that peddles
pornography, bribery, seduction, and a hell of a lot of dough (see,
I'm getting all noir-slangy up in here now). Oh, and a young woman
who has some...er...issues.
As
you might have guessed, the title refers to death, but in an oddly
gentle way. "Big Sleep" sounds more like getting all set to
curl up for a good ol' hibernation, instead of being the recipient of
a bullet. Ultimately, Chandler suggests, some things never change-
the knight in the stained-glass window will forever fiddle with the
ropes that tie the damsel in distress, human nature is what it is,
and everyone must ultimately hunker down for the Big Sleep.
This was my first "crime fiction" book. I think I've been avoiding the genre because I'm usually half-an-hour behind Hercule Poirot on television. But I thoroughly enjoyed The Big Sleep, for the dry humor and the language.
ReplyDeleteExample:I hate long descriptive passages of rooms, but this was fun: "The room was too big, the ceiling was too high, the doors were too tall,and the white carpet that went from wall to wall looked like a fresh fall of snow at Lake Arrowhead."
Or, "I gave the front door the heavy shoulder. This was foolish. About the only part of a California house you can't put your foot through is the front door. All it did was hurt my shoulder and make me mad."
Haven't you always wanted to see Magnum, or Morgan or McGarrett bust himself up like that?
Or am I just a little closet sadist?