A blackmailer is murdered just after she makes a frantic phone call to Mike Shayne, private eye. The word "shamus" is tossed around a lot. There's proA blackmailer is murdered just after she makes a frantic phone call to Mike Shayne, private eye. The word "shamus" is tossed around a lot. There's probably a quart and a half of cognac consumed in the space of twenty-four hours. Mike gets to muss up a dame's lipstick and throw a few punches. A police chief gets to bark at people about concealing evidence. There's some gunplay at night and a nightclub owner shoves his weight around. An old stag film resurfaces and a debutant may get to marry a stuffed shirt. That's what really happened. It was short. It was fast. It was okay....more
First published in September 1933 issue of Doc Savage Magazine, this goofy adventure has Doc and his team stowing away in a hijacked zeppelin and goinFirst published in September 1933 issue of Doc Savage Magazine, this goofy adventure has Doc and his team stowing away in a hijacked zeppelin and going to Africa where they encounter a diamond mine in a "lost oasis" deep within uncharted mountains. This one has "monstrous, bloodsucking bats" and carnivorous plants and a beautiful woman to rescue. This one is a brisk adventure that overcomes the clunky writing. It's another short pulp adventure that's appropriate for Halloween reading. I used to read these books when I was a nerdy kid. Nerdy kids don't read these stories anymore. Just nerdy old men like them now. ...more
A fire built on the stones cast obscene lurid glow over the ring of old men. With its base wedged into a crevice stood a holy outline - a wooden crossA fire built on the stones cast obscene lurid glow over the ring of old men. With its base wedged into a crevice stood a holy outline - a wooden cross. And trailing down from it as she half hung, half knelt with her arms tied to the cross pieces was Elaine. They had undressed her; before the sadist pack she stood utterly nude. Her hair streaming down over her bosom outlined her little breasts. Her face, uplifted in the moonlight, was a pallid agony-mask. One of the torturers stood behind her. His whip whistled and fell to bring zigzags like red fingers clutching her shoulders.
That's how they did Weird Menace in the good old days! From 1940 this "weird menace" pulp magazine was a few years later than the heyday of weird menace as penned by writers like Arthur Leo Zagat and Hugh B. Cave. SINISTER STORIES lasted only 3 issues before disappearing from newsstands. I'm guessing they turned to publishing children's bedtime stories, but who knows.
I picked up a reprint of this pulp magazine from a store in the Mission District in San Francisco a number of years ago. I can't remember the name of the store now, but I think they closed it a few years later and went online only. It doesn't matter now. The quote above is from the cover story "Brides for the Half-Men" by Francis James. I've never heard of Francis James. Nor have I heard of any of the other writers collected in this issue. The titles are fantastic. Stories like "Satan's Studio of Sin" and "White Flesh Must Rot" and "They Trade in Mangled Bodies" just to name a few. The writing is over the top and generally awful. There are plenty of "slavering, blood-lusting beasts" to invite to your next party here. The plots are strewn with torture and titillation but invariably have happy endings, in spite of innocents getting gruesomely dispatched along the way. All of the stories have a flying blind, seat-of-the-pants feel to them. It's possible that many of the authors credited here were house names for one or two hard-drinking pulpsters spitting out first drafts for a quick buck.
Whatever. 80 some odd years later they make for decent Halloween season reading. ...more
Goofy pulp adventure for Halloween. This story originally appeared in Doc Savage Magazine September 1934. It's a hellzapoppin plot featuring undergrouGoofy pulp adventure for Halloween. This story originally appeared in Doc Savage Magazine September 1934. It's a hellzapoppin plot featuring underground caverns, flesh-eating ants, gangsters and a plant that promises immortality. The story is fun, but the writing is clunky. This one, like a few others I've read, also features Doc's beautiful cousin Pat Savage. Pat Savage is your classic pulp gal that you want to have on your side when the shit hits the fan, which happens a lot in these old yarns....more
A fast read, at half the length of DUNE. At times I was connecting with the story and at times I felt I was cast aside as a reader by an author chasinA fast read, at half the length of DUNE. At times I was connecting with the story and at times I felt I was cast aside as a reader by an author chasing his own tail. I don't know if that makes much sense. I genuinely had no idea where the story would go, which is a good thing. But I also felt that I was left out of much of the story in the process. I didn't have a real sense of Arrakis that was so vivid in the first novel. Also, the jihad mentioned here seemed strangely bloodless in spite of the vast numbers those killed during it. I felt disconnected from it. I will say the ending picked up but the climax lacked the action that a pulp novel requires. Still, there was enough here in Book 2 to lure me into pursuing the 3rd book. So...not as good as the first one, but not bad either. ...more
I took this paperback with me on a trip to Wisconsin last week. A few years ago I found a bunch of the old Lancer paperback Conan collections that werI took this paperback with me on a trip to Wisconsin last week. A few years ago I found a bunch of the old Lancer paperback Conan collections that were published in the 70s. I remember having this one a long time ago and liking it, but somehow lost my copy. I was happy at finding another copy for cheap. I wouldn't recommend these old Lancer/Ace paperbacks to anyone who hasn't read Conan before. Go to the original stories as Robert E. Howard wrote them instead. Lin Carter and L. Sprague de Camp did a good thing re-introducing readers to Conan back in the 60s and 70s, but they injected their own stories and edits into the Conan stories to present them in a chronological order that Howard did not do when originally published back in the 30s. That aside, these are cool pulp stories. The best one in this collection is Howard's "The Tower of the Elephant" which was originally published in 1933. I did like "The Thing in the Crypt" by Carter and de Camp a lot too. ...more
More July Sci-Fi in the scorching southwest desert heat. This book is like a cool can of beer in that it goes down easy on a hot July afternoon. I've More July Sci-Fi in the scorching southwest desert heat. This book is like a cool can of beer in that it goes down easy on a hot July afternoon. I've had this old ACE paperback for a number of years just sitting on a shelf. I know I've read the first one "The Beast-Jewel of Mars" before. Published in 1948 in PLANET STORIES Magazine it and "Mars Minus Bisha" are the earliest two stories in this slim collection. The latest story being from 1964. So you're talking the good-old-stuff here. All of the stories are set in Mars, each with years given for a loose timeline to connect them.
"I do not know of Earth," he answered courteously. "But on Mars man has always said 'I reason, I am above the beasts because I reason.' And he has always been very proud of himself because he could reason. It is the mark of his humanity. Being convinced that reason operates automatically within him he orders his life and his government upon emotion and superstition."
Earthmen, in these stories, seems to perpetually come to a sad reckoning between his Earth-born ego and ambitions against the ancient lost and dwindling civilizations of the Martians. You can draw your own meanings from what Leigh Brackett may have been trying to say in these stories, or you can enjoy them as they were written, stellar examples of planetary adventures. If stories like these are written anymore, I haven't been able to find them in current science fiction digests. Maybe it's just me (and it probably is) but I find current science fiction short stories mostly unreadable. The simple adventure and wonder that writers like Leigh Brackett were so good at is mostly extinct. ...more
More July sci-fi in the ungodly heat of the desert. Beam me up already! After all these years I've finally read an E.E. Doc Smith novel. It's my firstMore July sci-fi in the ungodly heat of the desert. Beam me up already! After all these years I've finally read an E.E. Doc Smith novel. It's my first and probably my last. It just doesn't work for me, and I love pulpy-ass sci-fi. But man, I had a tough time getting into this one. It's just too loony and too wacky too much "hold on to your hats!" and gee whiz stuff going on all up in the house. But credit where credit is due, Doc Smith did lay down the earliest example of "space opera" that became all the "Star Wars", "Battlestar Galactica", "Star Trek", you name it adventures in science fiction that pulls in the fans every summer at the theaters. Or used to anyway. I haven't been to a Star Wars movie since 1984 so don't ask me, Pops. Plot is delivered in what reads like rapid-fire dialog you'd hear in an old flick about cops and reporters from the early 30s. Nothing wrong with that. I loved those old movies when I was a nerdy kid in the 70s, watching them late at night on my small black 'n white TV. "Start talking! It's yer nickle, Jake!, don't bother with Chick, he's got a snoot-full of hootch!" But now, a little of that stuff goes a long way, and by the 3 quarter mark I was skimming to the end. This would have been something I would have liked when I was a kid. Now it's just kid stuff....more
More Sci-fi in the scorching heat of July. This is how you do Science Fiction. A novel of ideas and questions and challenges. A book that, but for a fMore Sci-fi in the scorching heat of July. This is how you do Science Fiction. A novel of ideas and questions and challenges. A book that, but for a few moments, feels timeless. Reading it makes you feel hopeful and sad. Hopeful that mankind can do better and live up to its best instincts yet sad because that's not likely given our choice to succumb to "prejudices and superstitions" that one of the Overlords in the novel says "will take decades to eradicate."
If only decades. How nice to think so. Centuries is more like it. Briefly the plot depicts a race of aliens who contact Earth during the later part of the 20th Century. They promise that they bring no harm, that through their guidance Mankind will live in a Golden Age where of no wars, no violence, no oppression will be inflicted on us. We'll have Utopia. There are just a few demands, one of them being that we will not use atomic weapons against each other. Another that we shall not harm animals. Small sacrifices on our part for a huge gain in return. But why won't the Overlords, as they are referred to, reveal themselves. We're not yet ready, we're told. Yes, the Overlords do eventually show themselves. And the relationship between mankind, Earth, and the Overlords changes. Man no longer has to work. Education is for everyone. There are no limits to our potential but...yet another demand is made that has far deeper ramifications.
I don't want to give away any plot spoilers in this book. If you've never read it and are a fan of "vintage" science fiction I give it the highest recommendation. Reading it I thought of what Utopia, or a "Golden Age" might mean. How would we as a race deal with it? Would religions become obsolete? Probably not. What about having the world's education and enlightenment available to everyone? One could propose that we're almost there now with technology. Suppose you have knowledge available now, there but for the effort of a few taps on a keyboard? Instead of enlightenment we turn to conspiracies and lies. We give away our own potential to the loudest voices with the cheapest promises. Is mankind always destined to sell itself out so easily? It appears that way. What is different about the world now, 70 plus years removed, from the world as it existed when this book was written? Does history live only in the past, or is it buried unconsciously within us. Does time have a meaning? Does the Universe have a soul?
Many things to wonder about, which is what the best science fiction does. ...more
Faithfully reproduced, shining as steady and serene from the walls of the stellarium as did their originals from the black deeps of space, the mirroreFaithfully reproduced, shining as steady and serene from the walls of the stellarium as did their originals from the black deeps of space, the mirrored stars looked down on him. Light after jeweled light, scattered in careless beautiful splendor across the simulacrum sky, the countless suns lay before him-before him, over him, under him, behind him, in every direction from him. He hung alone in the center of the stellar universe.
More July sci-fi in the desert heat. Here is another "novel" that's made up of two pulp stories originally printed in 1941 in ASTOUNDING magazine. I'm really hit-and-miss with Heinlein. I think his stories are good but some of his attitudes are often pretty distasteful. These two stories make a slim novel that can be read in a single long afternoon. They both contain the sense of wonder that I look for in vintage pulp science fiction. It's one of the earliest "multi-generational ship" stories I can think of, about a Proxima Centauri Expedition launched by the Jordan Foundation hurtling through space, while its inhabitants inside have long forgotten their mission, their purpose and their true environment. To them the ship is their universe. As each generations pass, they develop their own religion, traditions, myths and legends. But like any society, corruption simmers beneath the surface. There are interesting and thought provoking ideas. And enough action to keep things from getting boring. I liked that aspect of this book. The downside however is the attitudes Heinlein often seems to let slip. Women are clearly 2nd class citizens in this expedition. They have no purpose but to cook, procreate and keep house for the males in this claustrophobic "universe" they inhabit. Any outburst from them often leads to the back of the hand from our square-jawed heroes. It's like the ship is manned by the original "He-Man-Woman-Haters" Club. This made me wonder about the original purpose of the expedition itself. Surely, but the time society had the means and technology to build a starship you'd think that the female half of the human race were allowed to contribute something besides a hot meal and a clean house. Which leads to further questions. Why was it launched? How were the passengers picked? Were different cultures and religions and races chosen, or was it all an early 20th Century white American male centered expedition. Did Heinlein consider that when writing these stories, or was the depiction of the "muties" in it sufficient for him. What sort of psychological requirements were required for selection? Why should a well-chosen team of learned passengers regress into superstitions and tribalism? Lots of questions.
I always try to read vintage fiction with the understanding that my modern sensibilities and attitudes are misplaced in judging historical writers. Still, with Heinlein, I don't think I'm being unfair. He's a writer of great ideas, but the finished product often leaves a bitter aftertaste. So, the 3 stars are for the fairly accurate science and wonder of its time, which was really cool. And for its historical importance. I can recommend it to fans but with a "but...."...more
Summertime escapism into 1930s era pulp sci-fi! This "novel" is made up of 2 stories "Dawn of Flame" published in THRILLING WONDER STORIES in 1939 andSummertime escapism into 1930s era pulp sci-fi! This "novel" is made up of 2 stories "Dawn of Flame" published in THRILLING WONDER STORIES in 1939 and "The Black Flame" published in STARTLING STORIES in 1939. Both stories are set in the far-flung future, as they like to say, after the planet Earth succumbed to atomic and biological warfare. Societies are mostly agrarian and scattered across the states among the remnants of highways and cities. Out of what's left of New Orleans is a community lead by Joaquim Smith, his sister Margaret (the titular Black Flame, or Black Margot) and Martin Sair, all three of whom, through the wonders of science and radiation, are immortal. Joaquim Smith's mission is to conquer the scattered towns and villages and form a single empire over which he'd be the ultimate ruler. His sister, Margaret, rides by his side as a ruthless warrior, earning notoriety for her cruelty, leaving men tortured and ruined in her wake. So with this set-up, we need a couple of square-jawed heroes to spurn Black Margot's advances while remaining faithful to their simple village girlfriends. It's all melodramatic and full of heightened emotion, with declarations of love or death throughout. I would have eaten this book up whole as a kid, succumbing to all of its romance and wonder. Now as a somewhat jaded and cynical adult I enjoyed it for being a fast-paced adventure soaked in faulty science and innocent romance. If you're a fan of high pulp adventure there is a lot to like in this novel. But yes, it's old fashioned and outdated. There are some repetitive scenes and motivations by its characters that push credulity. But that's pulp for you. They don't write them like this anymore. If you accept it for what it is, it's a fun read on long hot summer day. ...more
Rage is an empty weapon. Terror only makes a man more helpless. My terror was for her, not for myself. Her death would be the unforgivable waste. I stRage is an empty weapon. Terror only makes a man more helpless. My terror was for her, not for myself. Her death would be the unforgivable waste. I struggled to keep the raw flood of emotion out of my mind. I hoped that I would be given some small chance before it all ended, and if I were to be capable of taking the maximum advantage of any small chance. I would have to remain as cold as an assassin, as impersonal as a weapon. Emotion could even blind me to the small chance so that I would never become aware of it. If I was given no chance to function, or missed the chance because I was beyond any exercise of logic, I would spend eternity with my beloved in a coffin of teak, mahogany and bronze on the floor of the shallow Gulf of Mexico.
A good standalone mystery from John D. MacDonald, published in 1961. Its hero, Sam Brice, is an early version of Travis McGee. He's a disgraced ex-football player, living in a cabin on the gulf coast of Florida. His extravagant wife has dumped him for better prospects and Sam spends his days working as an insurance adjustor when not fishing and boating and washing his love-sick memories down with rum drinks to the sounds of Peggy Lee on the hi-fi. One night, an old acquaintance named Charlie Haywood shows up at his cabin. Charlie has escaped from jail, three years into a five year stretch for a failed safe-cracking job attempted in the home of a wealthy recluse and his platinum haired wife. Charlie asks a favor from Sam. Put him up for a day or so, just long enough for him to clear his name. Against his better judgement Sam agrees. 24 hours later, Charlie has disappeared, along with Sam's close friend Janice Gantry. Janice and Sam once had a thing, but it's since cooled off, after Sam's hesitance to commit to marriage. But they're still close and very fond of each other, maybe even in love. Sam knows that Janice has a generous heart and discovers that she was last seen with Charlie before both of them vanished into a hot Florida night in Janice's car. Did Charlie recruit Janice to help him prove his innocence? Who is the mysterious woman that Charlie has to see? And mostly...Where is Janice Gantry?
This is a good book for it's time. When it was written, MacDonald was likely exploring the possibilities of creating a series character. Most paperback mysteries at the time featured a series character (Shell Scott, Mike Shayne, Chester Drum, etc.) to ensure steady sales at the drugstore turnstiles. MacDonald was getting late to the game coming up with one, having written a slew of standalone crime novels throughout the 50s. His agent and publisher were probably leaning on him to come up with a recurring hero for readers to get hooked on. Sam Brice wasn't quite it. But one can see the ideas forming in this novel. Travis McGee was just a few years away. ...more
My version is a Dell paperback but with a different cover. I tried changing the edition for my review but GR likes this one better I guess. What are yMy version is a Dell paperback but with a different cover. I tried changing the edition for my review but GR likes this one better I guess. What are you gonna do? Anyway, these old Johnny Liddell paperbacks are similar to the Dell paperbacks for Mike Shayne. I don't know what Dell books did back then but these old Dell books are durable as hell and preserve well more than half a century after their debuts on the spinner racks at the five-and-dime. Much like the detectives that starred in them. Liddell starred in a bunch of books from the late 40s into the 60s and, at least from the ones I've read, are reliable capers for few hours of entertainment. Liddell's beat is NYC and he knows all the cops and informants and reporters he needs to know to solve most of the problems that come his way. These are the kind of books that always feature a dame who sings at a nightclub owned by a mobster. Liddell is always lipping off to gunsels and hoods and gives and takes punches in the process. I think inside the first 50 pages of this one he downed the equivalent of a couple bottles of bourbon and a handful of packs of cigarettes without so much as consuming a rare steak to soak it all up. Women are either platinum blondes or redheads. Police lieutenants are always growling or grimacing when dealing with Liddell. And his jobs always land headlines in the evening papers. I'm often amused with private eyes in novels who make headlines. I thought the point of being a private investigator is to keep your clients' dirt out of the public eye. I eat these books like potato chips. Liddell is no Philip Marlowe and Frank Kane is no Raymond Chandler, but these books are hardboiled and tough which is what the genre fans expect....more
A re-write of an older pulp story by L'Amour. Matt Brennan rides into the town of Hattan's Point and meets the girl he wants to marry. His intentions A re-write of an older pulp story by L'Amour. Matt Brennan rides into the town of Hattan's Point and meets the girl he wants to marry. His intentions set off the town bully who just might be a wanted killer, one never really knows, does one. He befriends a rancher, comes into some land, tangles with two other large ranchers who want the land he's inherited. There are gunfights and ass-whippins in this one. Probably a few too many villains, but it's entertaining enough. ...more
Shell Scott caper wherein he goes to Acapulco to find a blackmailer but instead tangles with a luscious tomato and gets pitched into the ocean by a coShell Scott caper wherein he goes to Acapulco to find a blackmailer but instead tangles with a luscious tomato and gets pitched into the ocean by a couple of goons. Tomatoes and goons, you know. Can't trust any of 'em. ...more
The ideas for the stories are better than the execution. I've seen a handful of movies made from Woolrich's stories and novels and really like them. IThe ideas for the stories are better than the execution. I've seen a handful of movies made from Woolrich's stories and novels and really like them. I've tried to read a few of his novels and give up on them before finishing. I've read short stories by Woolrich and, I guess I like them okay but ultimately I'm just not into them as much as other writers of his time and genre. Plots seem to tie themselves into pretzels to keep suspense. But a lot of people like them, so I'm going to admit there is something there I'm just not getting, which is perfectly fine. Out of the five stories in this short book, some are better than others. Rear Window, to me, was the best. The introduction by Francis Nevins Jr. says that "Three O'clock" is the best story. The intro also states that "as technical exercises, many of Woolrich's novels and stories are awful." So there you go. ...more
Four (long) short stories fixed up and presented as a novel about a family of immortals whose blood is a priceless commodity to a society seeking a "fFour (long) short stories fixed up and presented as a novel about a family of immortals whose blood is a priceless commodity to a society seeking a "fountain of youth." These stories were published in the fifties and show a country that decays as the book progresses. At one point, one of the protagonists wonders who would choose immortality in a world like this. Interesting depiction of a broken society where health is only for the wealthy. I like dystopian stories from the good old days of science fiction, and I mostly liked these stories. The prose style was sometimes awkward in that I had to reread passages to understand what was happening, or who was doing what. Pulpy action moves things along. Nice and cynical. ...more
The last book I finished in the year 2023 turns out to be a beat old paperback I bought in Mexico City for a handful of pesos several years ago. Lt. WThe last book I finished in the year 2023 turns out to be a beat old paperback I bought in Mexico City for a handful of pesos several years ago. Lt. Wheeler has to solve a case of a murdered peeper with a sleazy reputation. The peeper was tailing an heiress and her beatnik boyfriend when someone had the temerity to cave in his skull in a roadside motel. Our hero Wheeler spends more time investigating the curves of any dame who drifts into his orbit than he does sifting clues. Along the way he braces a few bad guys and trades wisecracks with each of the suspects involved. It's not the best Carter Brown caper I've read. Short and sweet, over and done, without a lot of effort. Something to read while sipping hooch on a chilly December night. Here's hoping everyone has a safe and enjoyable New Years and a happy 2024. We're all trying the best we can, anyway. ...more
Kane's purpose was unswerving. His obsession to cleave through the barrier of centuries, to command the secrets of elder-world science, totally consumKane's purpose was unswerving. His obsession to cleave through the barrier of centuries, to command the secrets of elder-world science, totally consumed him, drove from his thoughts all caution, all doubt. Before him lay the key to incalculable power; every atom of his energy must be directed toward unlocking it...Now he was surrounded by scores of savage batrachians, alone in a lost city whose prehuman antiquity his very presence blasphemed. Kane's mind was twisted to a state of dreamlike clarity and obscurity, his thoughts a dichotomy of inspired certainty, enshrouded disregard. But a demonic haunting that transcended sanity had overshadowed Kane's mind ever since his eyes had first gazed into the bloodstone ring.
Terrific old-fashioned sword and dark fantasy novel. Ancient cities, political intrigue, gory battles, swordplay, a lost race once descended from the stars. An immortal man roaming the earth, seeking adventure and respite from ennui at whatever the cost. What's not like. Fans of Robert E. Howard and H.P. Lovecraft will like this. I had a ton of fun reading it. Put an old RUSH album on the stereo, grab a can of beer and enjoy. ...more
A Life in Black and White is an informal biography of David Goodis first published in French in 1982 and later translated to English. Much of the bookA Life in Black and White is an informal biography of David Goodis first published in French in 1982 and later translated to English. Much of the book is following Philippe Garnier as he talks with many of the people, still living at the time, who knew David Goodis both in Hollywood and in his hometown of Philadelphia. Goodis himself isn’t exactly a riveting subject for an in depth book on his life. I enjoyed the side trips Garnier had speaking with contemporaries of Goodis. I found the telling of their stories more interesting than the actual subject. A number of the players in Hollywood admitted that they didn’t really know David Goodis all that well. One can feel their bafflement at being asked about a long gone screen writer who left a good gig in in the pictures to write paperback novels. Here was a guy who started in the pulps before striking it in the pictures with his novel Dark Passage. A movie starring Bogart and Bacall no less. A contract at screenwriting then quickly followed. You get the notion that Goodis, while he probably enjoyed his time in Hollywood, didn’t really fit in with the crowd. One of those oddball writers. He drove a beat up car, dressed in used suits, and crashed on the sofa of a friend’s place. Yes, he had enough charm and looks to get some attention from movie stars but didn’t particularly care about that stuff. He liked to “slum” it, opting for jazz joints instead of hanging with other writs Musso and Frank’s Grill. He was a goof with an odd sense of humor. One of his routines was stuffing the red cellophane from a cigarette package up his nose to make it look like he was bloodied. That was a riot. Or knocking out a few bars of Shostakovich’s Concerto No. 2 on a piano before stopping suddenly, claiming he didn’t feel like playing. He worked hard, liked to listen to jazz and liked to go to cheap diners instead of Hollywood soirees. Then, after a few years in Hollywood, he was perfectly happy returning to his parents’ home in Philadelphia where he pumped out tawdry novels for the paperbacks. There was a brief marriage to a mystery woman named Elaine, but it fizzled quickly and she disappeared from his life. Friendships endured, platonic and otherwise. But no one really knew the guy. The appeal of the book is the world Goodis lived in. The paperback market replaced the pulps. Goodis knew what the publishers looked for and provided, for the most part, a commercially digestible commodity. There were a couple times he submitted a book that had no real plot to it, a work of mood and existential angst instead of a heist novel. Save that stuff for the French, right? But if one book didn't send an editor, they figured the next one would. Personally, I’m lukewarm on the books of his I’ve read. I finish them always feeling that the idea was better than the result. A few of his publishers, Arnold Hano at Lion for example, apparently felt the same way. Goodis was better at painting moods than plots. You feel the alcohol, the smoke, the desperation and despair, but it’s an affect. When this biography was first published Goodis's books were out of print in the U.S. But they found popularity in France. Goodis was an idea, an artiste maudit, as Garnier says, to his admirers, forgotten in his own country. A personification of noir and despair. A shadow. The real Goodis was a somewhat dull, hard-working writer with some hits and some misses. A guy who, when he died, had a small fortune saved. A cipher. An impression not altogether real. Garnier gets that, which is what makes this book work so well. Recommended if you like this kind of thing. ...more
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