The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler


The first Philip Marlowe book is the shape of noir to come.

Filed under:

It’s easy to connect the dots from Chandler to writers like Elmore Leonard, William Gibson and Dennis Lehane. His characters and dialogue are so fully developed that I could likely pick out a page of his writing from a pile of pages from other writers in the genre, but he clearly set the template that those writers (and a million others) started from.

You can hear Bogart’s voice when you’re reading it:

“She’s a grifter, shamus. I’m a grifter. We’re all grifters. So we sell each other out for a nickel. Okey. See can you make me.” He reached for another of my cigarettes, placed it neatly between his lips and lit it with a match the way I do myself, missing twice on his thumbnail and then using his foot. He puffed evenly and stared at me level-eyed, a funny little hard guy I could have thrown from home plate to second base. A small man in a big man’s world. There was something I liked about him.

This was his first book, and apparently a bridging of two short stories that Chandler had published prior. It’s also the debut of Philip Marlowe, though you wouldn’t know it. There’s nothing by way of introduction, Chandler builds his world on the fly.

This book, and the stories that were merged to form this book were written during the Great Depression and in the wake of Prohibition. The cynicism of the time is reflected here: the cops aren’t that bright, and they’re on the take. Everyone is motivated by money, seedy underworld operations are open secrets. The media can’t be trusted and the newspapers report what the cops tell them to report. Even the weather is nasty.

I didn’t even realize until I was reading about the book that there’s a major crime that goes completely unresolved and forgotten. There’s so much to love here that it doesn’t even matter. As with those other authors at their best, the plot itself is almost secondary. It’s enough just to spend time with their characters.

This book doesn’t quite seem to be Chandler in final form though. Farewell, My Lovely followed this book, and the writing in that book is even more distinctive and developed.

Fully a classic.