A few odds and ends as I catch up on the postings:
--I greatly prefer the MacShane bio of Chandler and highly
recommend his collection of Chandler's letters. I find myself
returning to his letters more often than his fiction. Anyone
interested in writing will find them richly rewarding. The
new book is definitely on my must-buy list.
--Peter Rabe is definitely worth tracking down. One of the
best of the Gold Medal writers. He was a big influence on
Westlake, as he has testified to in his essay in Breen's book
and in the interview recently published in Mystery Scene.
Westlake's "361" was his attempt to write a Rabe novel. I
also see touches of Woolrich in the opening chapters of
"361." It also foreshadows the development of the Parker
novels, although it is flawed by a big chunk in the middle
where the lead character ceases to move or act while the plot
churns around him.
On another topic, I was struck by Anthony's comment about
hardboiled fiction being based in reality. As Chandler
comments in "The Simple Art of Murder" and elsewhere, murder
is more often in the street than in the vicar's
library.
But while I agree with that birth being reality-based, I
would suggest that hardboiled fiction with all of its
conventions has one foot in reality and one in fantasy.
Specifically, male fantasy. Hardboiled fiction developed in
pulp magazines with predominantly male readers. While these
readers responded to the reality elements of the stories,
they were also seeking escape--an escape into a fantasy
world. The readers' reality had its own dangers and fears but
there wasn't much to be done about those. So in these stories
they could enter a world with a lone hero who through his
brains, fists and guns fought back, made things happen. While
some of this fictional world was outside the control of the
hero, he was not powerless. Unlike the reader, the hero could
smart off to the boss or the police, fight against injustice,
drink too much, stay out late every night, answerable to no
one. He often didn't have much money either but someone would
walk through his office door with a case that would pay the
next month's bills.
The male fantasy aspect of hardboiled fiction is evident in
the role women played in much of it during the first few
decades of its development. There's the faithful secretary
like Della Street and Lucy Hamilton--she does everything our
hero asks her to do and is absolutely devoted.
The women clients are sometimes untrustworthy (a touch of
reality for our male readers) but our hero is up to the
challenge. Sexual sparks usually fly when our hero interacts
with a woman no matter their role in the plot. They may work
for the enemy but they never look through our hero the
detective. They may work against him but they respond to his
maleness.
To me this (and much more) reeks of male fantasy. And,
there's nothing wrong with this. It is, even when well done,
escape reading and we males need our escape.
Women readers, no doubt, had their own forms of escape
reading in those early decades. In more recent times, large
numbers of them have moved into the mystery world beyond that
of Agatha Christie and the puzzler story. It's a very
different world for women from 50 years ago and perhaps they
want a foot in reality too. But they also have their own
fantasies and writers have discovered this and are responding
to that market demand. Hello Kinsey Malone.
Just as the lives of women have changed over the last few
decades so have the lives of men and, perhaps, that has
impacted their fantasy lives as well. The male fantasy can
now include the meaningful relationship with an independent
woman. Like all fantasies, it is possible and much to be
desired but for many in the real world, it can prove to be
elusive.
The audience responds to writers who innovate into something
more satisfying and writers and publishers respond to those
sales figures. The world changes, the fantasies change, the
readership broadens (ahem) and we see the results on the
shelves.
This has gone on too long and I must get to the kitchen to
clean up the dishes from the elaborate dinner I cooked for
myself last night. Dirty dishes are something Mike Shayne and
Sam Spade never had to worry about.
Richard Moore
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