When I was just beginning to find my way into mysteries many decades ago, I pretty much stuck to the Christie model of cozy British country house puzzles. Even as I branched out from there it seemed I stayed with British detectives and though the police procedurals got more modern, they still retained that English aloofness. Why oh why did I not discover Chandler.
Just over a year ago I read The Long Goodbye and marveled at this nothing-but-American detective who was tough yet cool. Now in The Big Sleep I experienced Philip Marlowe as he first burst on to the mystery scene. There is no doubt that Marlowe is an all together different type than the British detective and that Chandler is breaking open the genre in a new way. Marlowe tells us everything: the weather, what he is wearing, the details of the million-dollar house; and immediately takes us inside of the story. Given the task of uncovering a blackmail attempt by the dying General Sternwood, Marlowe encounters the General’s two daughters who continue to upset the neat case Marlowe has set out for him.
And then the murders come–one after another–to people who were never part of the original investigation but are involved, in some way, with each other. Gritty Los Angeles life is revealed and the gritty cops too. Though he’s solved the blackmail issue for which he was hired, Marlowe’s interest is high and he keeps looking to see what is underneath the next rock or dumped in the next oil well.
The book is far more frank than I expected from a 1930s novel and I can’t wait to watch the film version to see how the Hays Code muffles some of it. Chandler set a whole new standard for detective fiction. No more are we boxed up with the limited group of witnesses in a country house. Now we are moving down the mean streets of America and into criminal reality.
This book read for the Golden Vintage Mystery Challenge.
This book read for the Mt. TBR Challenge.