My Lovely, Farewell

A truly humorous but a bit confusing novel...get ready with American slang vocabulary if you as a mon-native speaker want not to follow track in case you do not read it in one sitting. I keep reading Chandler because I like Philippe Marlowe

Clichéd, by modern norms. But, looking at it in the context of the times, it was radical. Robert B. Parker's "Spenser" series began as a short story he wrote for a modern American literature class he was teaching, as an example of the tropes of noir literature.

Nice story, nice carachters and a fitting end.

The highlight, though, is the style of the prose, wich, as always with chandler, is awesome.

I just don't think this is his best story, and that's why i gave it only three stars.

I have read David Goodis, James Cain, and the two Library of America volumes of American noir from the 1930s -- 1950s, but I have only now read this book, "Farewell, My Lovely" (1940), my first by Raymond Chandler (1888 -- 1959). As do Goodis and Cain, for example, Chandler takes what is often regarded as the formulaic, stereotyped genre of American crime writing and transforms it into literature.

"Farewell, My Lovely" is Chandler's second novel featuring the private investigator Philip Marlowe, who became the model for many similar characters. The book is told in the first person and is set in Los Angeles and its environs. The plot of the novel is coincidence-ridden and somewhat patched together. It moves from a murder in an African American gambling establishment called Florian's to a jewel heist, a psychic, gambling ships, several more murders, and femme fatales. It takes time to get into the plotting and some of the elements appear not to add up.

The plotting is the least important element of this book, but at times it stands in the way. Much of the story gets tied together well at the end and it builds. "Farewell, My Lovely" has many other qualities that make it rewarding. These include Chandler's language, characterizations, sense of place, and view of the human condition, as I describe a little more below.

Marlowe speaks in the tough, hard-boiled style of a crime novel, but he has the poet's eye for detail as much as the gimlet eye of the detective. In particular, he shows a gift for the strikingly appropriate and imaginative metaphor or simile that leaps off almost every page.

Although a detective easily becomes a stock figure, Chandler's Marlowe is a complex person with vulnerabilities and flaws beneath a hard exterior. He is thoughtful as well as hard-drinking. Similarly, virtually every character in this book is well-defined. Chandler finds both good and bad in unlikely places and is attuned to the difficulties of understanding and categorizing any person.

Then, there is the portrayal of Los Angeles. Chandler concentrates of the poor seedy sections but also describes more economically comfortable areas together with suburbs and the water. He offers a sense of place and an eye for detail. He is one of a select group of writers, including Cain, Nathanael West, John Fante, and Charles Bukowski who make Los Angeles come to life.

Finally, Chandler offers a view of the human condition that includes each of these three elements and more and that turn "Farewell, My Lovely" into literature. The novel is sad and pessimistic in its view of life but shows as well understanding. "He's a sinner -- but he's human", one of the characters says to Marlowe late in the book in an observation that applies to the entire story. Individuals try to make their ways among corruption, sleaze, frustration, and sadness; but with toughness and a suggestion of the importance of fighting for the good. There are few heroes and few villains.

Here is a passage from late in the novel that captures the features I have tried to describe. Marlowe is lying in bed in a cheap waterfront hotel and thinks about some of the events and people that have figured in the story up to that point.

"It got darker. I thought; and thought in my mind moved with a kind of sluggish stealthiness, as if it was being watched by bitter and sadistic eyes, I thought of dead eyes looking at a moonless sky, with black blood at the corners of the mouths beneath them. I thought of nasty old women beaten to death against the posts of their dirty beds. I thought of a man with bright blond hair who was afraid and didn't quite know what he was afraid of, who was sensitive enough to know that something was wrong and too vain or too dull to guess what it was that was wrong. I thought of beautiful rich women who could be had. I thought of nice slim curious girls who lived alone and could be had too, in a different way. I thought of cops, tough cops that could be greased and yet were not by any means all bad... Fat prosperous cops with Chamber of Commerce voices.... Slim, smart and deadly cops... who for all their smartness and deadliness were not free to do a clean job in a clean way. I thought of sour old goats ... who had given up trying. I thought of Indians and psychotics and dope doctors." [Names of characters have been deleted from the quote.]

I was glad to get to know Chandler and Philip Marlowe at last through "Farewell, My Lovely". I also learned a great deal from some of the many thoughtful reader reviews of this book here on the store.

Robin Friedman

“Farewell, My Lovely” was published by Raymond Chandler (1888-1959) as his second full-length novel in 1940 after publishing “The Big Sleep” in 1939. He published seven novels during his lifetime. His eighth was completed and published by Robert B. Parker after his death. As in “The Big Sleep,” the hero of the novel is the hard boiled private detective Philip Marlowe. Many critics consider “Farewell My Lovely” as his best novels, but other critics give the accolade to his first novel “The Big Sleep,” and still others to his sixth novel “The Long Goodbye” published in 1953. All of his novels, with the sole exception of his last novel Playback, published in 1958, were made into movies, some more than once. There were three film adaptations of this book.
Chandler is considered by many to be the founder of the hard-boiled school of detective fiction. He stressed the atmosphere of the events rather than the plot. Critics claim that he drew the plots for this novel by splicing together three of his short stories.
In the book, Marlowe goes to a predominantly black neighborhood to find a missing husband, who he is unable to find. He happens to encounter a huge man who had been in prison for eight years and is now searching for his girlfriend who he had not seen for the eight years. A man gets killed and the corrupt police department do not want to pursue the murder since they feel that no one cares if a black man is killed. Marlowe then gets a call from a man who wants him to acts as his bodyguard when he hands men thousands of dollars in exchange for a necklace that the men stole from him and a very rich lady. The man gets killed and Marlowe is hit unconscious. Marlowe decides to follow-up on this matter, gets involved with the rich lady, with a man claiming to have psychic powers, corrupt police, lands in a sanitarium, others get killed, gets help from another beautiful lady and a non-corrupt cop, and Marlowe solves the cases.
The book, in short, is a classic with a fascinating story that is engrossing, a story that impacted not only readers but future writers who copied much of Chandler’s style.

Farewell, My Lovely

Phillip Marlowe is over on Central Avenue, searching for a barber who left his wife. He notices a big man walk into double swinging doors, almost immediately a youth is thrown through the air into the gutter. Marlowe looks in, and is taken upstairs by Moose Malloy. More violence breaks out while Malloy searches for Velma. Marlowe calls the police to report the problem. The police lieutenant strongly suggests that Marlowe should look for Velma. Marlowe gathers information, and looks up Mrs. Florian, wife of the now dead owner of this bar. Mrs. Florian says that Velma is dead, and gives Marlowe a picture of Velma. Marlowe gives her his card, and reports back to Detective Lieutenant Nulty.

When Marlowe returns to his office, he gets a phone call hiring him by a stranger to act as his bodyguard. Marlowe accompanies Marriott to a deserted country spot to pay off a jewel thief. Marlowe leaves the car to make the payoff, but nobody is around. When he returns to the car he finds Marriott dead. A young woman shows up and gives Marlowe a ride to his car. Marlowe returns to the West Los Angeles police station to report another murder.

Marlowe continues to gather more facts. Marlowe has meetings and adventures in pursuit of the truth. The story effectively exposes the crookedness of Bay City politics, and the corruption of the rich and powerful. The ending seems tacked-on to meet the moral conventions of the time: nobody gets away with murder, not in fiction. The author sort of admits this in the last chapter: "we'd never have convicted her". If the trial and scandal hurt her older husband, she'd be a rich widow. If not, they could move away from this scandal and notoriety.

Which means, tough guy detective Philip Marlowe fights his way through a host of troubles, solves a lot of mysteries while entertaining us no end with his sardonic wit. Actually I found the sardonic wit a bit wearying as I went along. I suppose this is the way one talked in this milieu in the 1940s, but I found the book more enjoyable when Marlowe and Chandler gave it a rest from time to time.

the story line was sometimes confusing. If you focus clearly on what is going on you can absorb a great deal of the story, much more than if you are simply reading casually. There are som interesting characters and situations in the book. In fact, the writing itself picks up as the book progresses. Some of the descriptive material in the last 50 pages is absolutely gorgeous. A good eye, and excellently rendered.

Too bad, but the prices of things in that era date the work severely, giving it more of an antiquarian feel than it probably deserves.

“Farewell, My Lovely” was published by Raymond Chandler (1888-1959) as his second full-length novel in 1940 after publishing “The Big Sleep” in 1939. He published seven novels during his lifetime. His eighth was completed and published by Robert B. Parker after his death. As in “The Big Sleep,” the hero of the novel is the hard boiled private detective Philip Marlowe. Many critics consider “Farewell My Lovely” as his best novels, but other critics give the accolade to his first novel “The Big Sleep,” and still others to his sixth novel “The Long Goodbye” published in 1953. All of his novels, with the sole exception of his last novel Playback, published in 1958, were made into movies, some more than once. There were three film adaptations of this book.
Chandler is considered by many to be the founder of the hard-boiled school of detective fiction. He stressed the atmosphere of the events rather than the plot. Critics claim that he drew the plots for this novel by splicing together three of his short stories.
In the book, Marlowe goes to a predominantly black neighborhood to find a missing husband, who he is unable to find. He happens to encounter a huge man who had been in prison for eight years and is now searching for his girlfriend who he had not seen for the eight years. A man gets killed and the corrupt police department do not want to pursue the murder since they feel that no one cares if a black man is killed. Marlowe then gets a call from a man who wants him to acts as his bodyguard when he hands men thousands of dollars in exchange for a necklace that the men stole from him and a very rich lady. The man gets killed and Marlowe is hit unconscious. Marlowe decides to follow-up on this matter, gets involved with the rich lady, with a man claiming to have psychic powers, corrupt police, lands in a sanitarium, others get killed, gets help from another beautiful lady and a non-corrupt cop, and Marlowe solves the cases.
The book, in short, is a classic with a fascinating story that is engrossing, a story that impacted not only readers but future writers who copied much of Chandler’s style.

Farewell, My Lovely

Phillip Marlowe is over on Central Avenue, searching for a barber who left his wife. He notices a big man walk into double swinging doors, almost immediately a youth is thrown through the air into the gutter. Marlowe looks in, and is taken upstairs by Moose Malloy. More violence breaks out while Malloy searches for Velma. Marlowe calls the police to report the problem. The police lieutenant strongly suggests that Marlowe should look for Velma. Marlowe gathers information, and looks up Mrs. Florian, wife of the now dead owner of this bar. Mrs. Florian says that Velma is dead, and gives Marlowe a picture of Velma. Marlowe gives her his card, and reports back to Detective Lieutenant Nulty.

When Marlowe returns to his office, he gets a phone call hiring him by a stranger to act as his bodyguard. Marlowe accompanies Marriott to a deserted country spot to pay off a jewel thief. Marlowe leaves the car to make the payoff, but nobody is around. When he returns to the car he finds Marriott dead. A young woman shows up and gives Marlowe a ride to his car. Marlowe returns to the West Los Angeles police station to report another murder.

Marlowe continues to gather more facts. Marlowe has meetings and adventures in pursuit of the truth. The story effectively exposes the crookedness of Bay City politics, and the corruption of the rich and powerful. The ending seems tacked-on to meet the moral conventions of the time: nobody gets away with murder, not in fiction. The author sort of admits this in the last chapter: "we'd never have convicted her". If the trial and scandal hurt her older husband, she'd be a rich widow. If not, they could move away from this scandal and notoriety.

Which means, tough guy detective Philip Marlowe fights his way through a host of troubles, solves a lot of mysteries while entertaining us no end with his sardonic wit. Actually I found the sardonic wit a bit wearying as I went along. I suppose this is the way one talked in this milieu in the 1940s, but I found the book more enjoyable when Marlowe and Chandler gave it a rest from time to time.

the story line was sometimes confusing. If you focus clearly on what is going on you can absorb a great deal of the story, much more than if you are simply reading casually. There are som interesting characters and situations in the book. In fact, the writing itself picks up as the book progresses. Some of the descriptive material in the last 50 pages is absolutely gorgeous. A good eye, and excellently rendered.

Too bad, but the prices of things in that era date the work severely, giving it more of an antiquarian feel than it probably deserves.

Raymond Chandler lives up to the hype about his work. This second story in the saga of Philip Marlowe is packed with action and lots of red herrings. I admit that I did not see the ending coming, though in hindsight it should have been perfectly obvious--the mark of a good detective story. Marlowe solves the mystery by blundering around, stirring up things until the situation becomes clear to him. He takes deadly chances with a couple of different hardcases--gangsters who would kill him at the drop of a hat. His reckless disregard for his own safety surprises the hardcases and throws them off their guard. The book is strewn with allusions to popular culture and to classic literature. I especially enjoyed the time-capsule peek into daily life in the 1940s--from the slang to the hitherto unknown devices like a hush-a-phone. If you like film Noir and/or hardboiled detectives, you cannot go wrong with a Phillip Marlowe story.

The writing in this Marlowe story is wonderful. I spent a lot of time making faces and trying to read the lines (an actor I am not) and the characters themselves are so vibrant that I'm positive I'll never forget them, even when it's been so long that I won't remember in which novel they're.found These are indelible characters. They are unforgettable and we get to know Philip Marlowe in a deeper, more world-weary way than we found him in THE BIG SLEEP.

There are a ton of characters involved and the plot can get overly twisty at times, but the story of Moose Malloy drew me in as much as it did Marlowe, and I was happily along for the ride through jewelry heists, fortune telling, constant corruption and of course a few murders to keep it interesting.

More than plot and equal to the characters (I'd like a whole series with Anne Riordan as the protagonist) is the social observation. Between them all, this is a wonderfully rich novel.

Raymond Chandler's novel Farewell My Lovely is the second of his books featuring private detective Philip Marlowe as the protagonist. Farewell My Lovely is a first-rate read for fans of noir fiction who don't mind working through a story that seems a bit more complex than necessary. As with his first novel, The Big Sleep, Chandler manages to tie everything together at the very end, but the last thirty or so pages seem pretty cluttered. This is a very good book might that have been even better if Chandler hadn't introduced so many ancillary themes with so much detail. Still, cluttered or not, none of the ideas that contribute to making Farewell My Lovely a complex whole are lacking in interest or originality. Moreover, this is the sort of fiction that leaves the reader with a sense that he or she understands the world a little better for having read it. Chandler was a careful and insightful observer of everyday life, and therefore so is Philip Marlowe.

Readers familiar with The Big Sleep, however, may conclude that over the course of a year or so Marlowe has lost some of his linguistic sophistication and become a bit more flinty, hard-edged, and off-handedly glib. He still values character, civility, and decency when he finds them, and from time to time he's still unexpectedly sentimental. Nevertheless, it seems as if the time that passed between Chandler's first and second novels has made Marlowe more cynical and less likely to regard the feelings of others with at least a modicum of sympathy. Marlowe seems to have become more world-weary, and he's certainly accumulated a lot of beatings, both physical and psychological. Truth be told, one wonders how a guy can take so much punishment and keep coming back for more. Perhaps one of the few deficiencies of Chandler's fiction as manifest in Farewell My Lovely and his other novels is that no one can survive as much abuse as Marlowe, bouncing right back after a good night's sleep and a substantial breakfast.

Marlowe is a good looking guy in hie early thirties, a sharp dresser who fills out his clothes nicely, and women like him. It's hard to escape the impression, however, that he works so hard at making a modest living the it's unlikely that he often has a really good time. That may be one reason why he drinks so much. I don't think that Chandler wanted his readers to suspect that Marlowe was a drunk, but he's got a thirst for booze that rarely seems to be completely quenched. Maybe that's just a trait that Marlowe shares with other noir protagonists, guys like Dashell Hammett's Sam Spade. Booze is one of the incidental but distinctive elements of the noir environment. Still, the brutal life Marlowe lives and the alcohol that may be his one ever-present and reliable pleasure may prompt readers to ask the same question that some of Chandler's lesser characters often put to Marlowe: why doesn't he get into a less damaging and more lucrative line of work? Marlowe never gives a satisfactory answer.

Younger readers may be troubled by the way racial and ethnic minorities and gay people are talked about and treated in the world inhabited by Marlowe. But Farewell My Lovely was first published the year before the U.S. entered World War II. Even the military was segregated. The word "gay" had not yet acquired meaning with regard to sexual orientation, and abortion was almost unthinkably immoral. None of this makes the book outmoded or obsolete, however, unless history and its interpretation are also outmoded and obsolete. Social and cultural anachronisms, however objectionable, were constituents of Marlowe's commonsense environment, things with which he had to deal.

To Marlowe's credit, he was one of the few who noted the obvious injustice in institutional recognition of crimes against whites contrasted with failure to acknowledge the equally serious consequences of crimes against blacks. Marlowe was a product of his time, but he was able to see the hypocrisy and inequity to which most were blind. Perhaps his understanding of the injuries inflicted on members of devalued groups contributed to his cynicism. It's good that he was still able to see the merit in, and maybe even feel some affection for folks like the Belvedere City detective he nicknamed "Hemingway." Marlowe had not yet been robbed of his ability to appreciate well-meaning, basically honest plodders.

I think The Big Sleep is a little better than its sequel, but Farewell My Lovely is still a five-star novel. Chandler was not perfect, but he's original and writes quite well. And Philip Marlowe is still a quintessential noir protagonist.

Farewell, My Lovely

Phillip Marlowe is over on Central Avenue, searching for a barber who left his wife. He notices a big man walk into double swinging doors, almost immediately a youth is thrown through the air into the gutter. Marlowe looks in, and is taken upstairs by Moose Malloy. More violence breaks out while Malloy searches for Velma. Marlowe calls the police to report the problem. The police lieutenant strongly suggests that Marlowe should look for Velma. Marlowe gathers information, and looks up Mrs. Florian, wife of the now dead owner of this bar. Mrs. Florian says that Velma is dead, and gives Marlowe a picture of Velma. Marlowe gives her his card, and reports back to Detective Lieutenant Nulty.

When Marlowe returns to his office, he gets a phone call hiring him by a stranger to act as his bodyguard. Marlowe accompanies Marriott to a deserted country spot to pay off a jewel thief. Marlowe leaves the car to make the payoff, but nobody is around. When he returns to the car he finds Marriott dead. A young woman shows up and gives Marlowe a ride to his car. Marlowe returns to the West Los Angeles police station to report another murder.

Marlowe continues to gather more facts. Marlowe has meetings and adventures in pursuit of the truth. The story effectively exposes the crookedness of Bay City politics, and the corruption of the rich and powerful. The ending seems tacked-on to meet the moral conventions of the time: nobody gets away with murder, not in fiction. The author sort of admits this in the last chapter: "we'd never have convicted her". If the trial and scandal hurt her older husband, she'd be a rich widow. If not, they could move away from this scandal and notoriety.

It's impossible to think of anything that might be remotely fresh and interesting to say about this book. It's a classic of crime fiction; it was first published in 1940, and it's been reviewed thousands of times, mostly by people far more competent than I.

Suffice it to say that this is the second full-length novel featuring Los Angeles detective Philip Marlowe, following The Big Sleep, which had been published in 1939. Marlowe was the prototype for all the tough, wise-cracking P.I.s that would follow, and Chandler was really the first crime fiction writer to fully exploit the setting of Los Angeles. Scores of writers have followed in his footsteps, but very few have succeeded as well as Chandler did.

As the book opens, Marlowe is searching for a missing husband when he encounters a mountain of a man named Moose Malloy who is staring up at a bar above the barber shop where Marlowe had hoped to find the aforementioned missing husband. Malloy, fresh out of prison after an eight-year stretch, is looking for his lost love, Velma. Malloy hasn't heard from Velma in all of that time, but that has not quenched his affections for the woman who used to work in the bar.

Eight years is a long time, and in the interim, the bar, which used to be a white establishment, has now become an African-American one, although in 1940, no one would have described the place quite that politely. Well, one thing leads to another and Malloy drags Marlowe up the stairs and begins demanding answers from the people in the bar who, not surprisingly, have never heard of Velma.

Malloy winds up killing someone in the bar and takes off, leaving Marlowe to explain things to the cops. From that point on, Marlowe is entangled in Malloy's search. As a sideline, he also takes a job body guarding a guy who is trying to exchange cash for a valuable jade necklace that was stolen from a friend.

Neither job is simple and neither turns out very well, and before long, Marlowe is up to his neck in trouble with the cops and a whole lot of other people as well. Before it's all over, he'll be beat up, doped up, pushed around, and lied to, but it's all in the nature of the job.

The plot really doesn't make a lot of sense, but nobody reads Chandler for the plot. The book is beautifully written with one great line following another. Through Marlowe, Chandler rolls back the curtain and exposes the seamy side of pre-war L.A. It's not a pretty sight, and you sometimes get the impression that Marlowe might be the only honest, decent man in the state.

The Big Sleep may be one of the greatest crime novels ever written, and it's an impossible act to follow, even for Raymond Chandler. I like this book a lot, but I don't think it's quite on a par with the first book in the series. A solid 4.5 stars for me.

This is my second read from Raymond Chandler, the first being The Big Sleep. I was a little concerned I would enjoy the book as much this second time around, and find differences, but finished with an even greater respect for the author's writing.

If the two books were sports, I would say, roughly, The Big Sleep was a great baseball game, and Farewell, My Lovely was an equally entertaining football game.

One involved a very lone wolf, Philip Marlowe, following a distinct mystery thread disguised as two plot lines stuck together, while the second, Farewell, My Lovely is the same lone wolf, but dragged into a series of scenes and locations by a variety of police, bad guys, and dames (as per the time's perspective).

While the setting scenes in The Big Sleep dripped oceanic ambience, this book had less scenic detail in terms of time spent immersed in fog and dampness, and more like quick dips rich in condensed dashes.

There seemed a greater variety of specific differing locations and characters, more like an extended spook house ride, than of being on a short but powerful roller coaster.

The effect was a deeper density into characters and suspense, though less of a bullet shot of an experience.

It was also interesting, and gratifying, to see more rounded female characters, and to more clearly see Chandler, through Marlowe, expose the for-granted racism of the time.

If there's one thing I wished more of, matching The Big Sleep, was Chandler's use of similes and metaphors. My guess he had critics complain and he cut back. Or he simply couldn't think of more that still fit the tone of the moment in the story.

Either way, Farewell, My Lovely cements my desire to read all Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe books.

Since there seem to be a variety of editions, this is a First Edition Crime/Black Lizard August 1992 paperback edition.

The second Philip Marlowe novel written by Raymond Chandler, and also the second one read by me was already familiar to me, having seen two film versions. Therefore, this story was the first real introduction to the character (Robert Altman's version of The Long Goodbye bears very little resemblance to any Marlowe novel I've read).
I walk away from a Marlowe novel with an incomplete understanding of all the intricate mechanisms of the plot and how they fall into place (although Farewell, My Lovely is more straightforward than The Big Sleep in that respect) although I leave the book fully cognizant of a world created in a specific time and place with a self-contained atmosphere and a self-contained and pulpishly poetic language.
In Farewell, My Lovely, Philip Marlowe is trying to mind his own private eye business but somehow ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time, somehow running afoul of crooks as well as cops. A simple case of tracking down an old flame for a massive ex-boxer turned convict is never going to be simple with Marlowe. His encounters with seedy crooks, smugglers, dope peddlers and gambling joint operators provide the reader with a tour of, to use an overworn phrase, the `underbelly of society.' With Chandler, the law enforcement officers and the laws of the government they are sworn to protect are often as corrupt as any of the pseudo legitimate businessmen/crooks.
Culturally and sociologically, this is an interesting depiction of the U.S. in 1940. The racial attitudes are probably pretty typical of the time although aside from occasional uses of the n-word, Chandler doesn't exploit stereotypes as much as most of the films of the time period. Marlowe's attitude toward marijuana also seems to be fairly non-judgmental, unlike what one would expect of many of the law enforcers of that time.
Marlowe is a collection of contradictions. On one hand, he can be as brutal and deadly as he needs to be although I don't recall him intentionally killing anyone. In this novel, I don't believe he kills anyone at all. On the other, he is sensitive to washed up losers such as Jessie Florian and he seems to want to believe that others are as principled as he is. Unlike many other popular private eyes, he seems at least somewhat cultured and even quotes Shakespeare on a couple of occasions. If one accepts the prose style as the creation of Marlowe rather than as simply the mouthpiece for Raymond Chandler, then Marlowe has a very poetic view of his world and describes it in metaphors that have been parodied to death and yet Marlowe has used the perfect set of words to describe what he sees.
Chandler's plots have been criticized for their contrivance and implausibility. Implausible they may be, but plots are not why I read Raymond Chandler's Marlowe stories. I'm reading them for the reasons I enumerated. I am reading them for the unique world view of a character who wears the necessary armor to do battle in a corrupt world and yet wants to believe in a world of chivalry and moral order.

Reading Chandler is like visiting a favourite holiday destination; you know what to expect but the details and nuances and the delightful surprises enhance the experience. Farewell My Lovely may be Chandler's most intense Marlowe novel. Marlowe finds himself entangled in an even more grimy and corrupt world than usual, filled with deceit, ambiguity and menace at every step. The plot is typically convoluted and the atmosphere is often filled with the stench of corruption and decay. Chandler evokes the dark side and the brutality of the American Dream as powerfully as any writer. His prose is incomparable and the themes with which he deals are worthy of Dickens or Shakespeare, such as the nature of evil, or the abuses of wealth and power. However, the novel is not all grimness and violence. Chandler's dialogue is utterly original and the book's humour often had me laughing aloud. Raymond Chandler is a reader's delight. These are novels you can return to again and again.

Farewell, My Lovely

Phillip Marlowe is over on Central Avenue, searching for a barber who left his wife. He notices a big man walk into double swinging doors, almost immediately a youth is thrown through the air into the gutter. Marlowe looks in, and is taken upstairs by Moose Malloy. More violence breaks out while Malloy searches for Velma. Marlowe calls the police to report the problem. The police lieutenant strongly suggests that Marlowe should look for Velma. Marlowe gathers information, and looks up Mrs. Florian, wife of the now dead owner of this bar. Mrs. Florian says that Velma is dead, and gives Marlowe a picture of Velma. Marlowe gives her his card, and reports back to Detective Lieutenant Nulty.

When Marlowe returns to his office, he gets a phone call hiring him by a stranger to act as his bodyguard. Marlowe accompanies Marriott to a deserted country spot to pay off a jewel thief. Marlowe leaves the car to make the payoff, but nobody is around. When he returns to the car he finds Marriott dead. A young woman shows up and gives Marlowe a ride to his car. Marlowe returns to the West Los Angeles police station to report another murder.

Marlowe continues to gather more facts. Marlowe has meetings and adventures in pursuit of the truth. The story effectively exposes the crookedness of Bay City politics, and the corruption of the rich and powerful. The ending seems tacked-on to meet the moral conventions of the time: nobody gets away with murder, not in fiction. The author sort of admits this in the last chapter: "we'd never have convicted her". If the trial and scandal hurt her older husband, she'd be a rich widow. If not, they could move away from this scandal and notoriety.

In this classic of the "hard-boiled" style, detective Phillip Marlowe meddles where he has no business whatsoever, and he deservedly ends up entangled in a strange web of obsession, decadence, obscure deals, and total confusion. Marlowe follows a huge white guy called Malloy into a bar for blacks; this Malloy is looking for an old romantic interest called Velma. Although he is just released from eight years in prison, Malloy kills the bar manager and flees. The police demand from Marlowe that he stays out of the case, but then the incompetent detective assigned to it asks for his advice. Marlowe proceeds to trace the widow of the former owner of the bar, a dipsomaniac who gives him clues about Velma. At the same time, Marlowe is hired by one Lindsay Marriott to go with him and help him deliver the ransom for a valuable necklace. Son everything is out of control, Marriott turns out to be involved with the dipsomaniac woman, and Marlowe gets into a mess with a decrepit millionaire and his sexy wife, as well as with a psychic and the corrupt cops who protect him.

This confusing story takes place in Los Angeles in the 1930's. It is truly exciting and goes well beyond "genre" to become great literature. In contrast with, say, Dashiell Hammett's "Red Harvest", the characters are much more fleshed out, especially the main one, Marlowe: his reflections transcend the case in point, spilling over the human psyche and the corrupt environment in which things are happening; his actions reveal, at the same time, a profound and disillusioned view of the humans. He is an experienced and disenchanted detective, but with a more enlightened conscience. The plot moves in dizzying zigzags, and Chandler's prose is full of witticisms and metaphors extravagant up to deliberate self-parody. The rest of the cast is also clearly defined, pathetically so in the case of the inebriated Mrs. Florian, paradigmatically in the case of the femme fatale Mrs. Grayle and the cute redhead Anne Riordan, and with masterful strokes in the case of the homosexual Marriott, the strange psychic, and the corrupt cops. Prose is as important as plot, something infrequent in crime novels.

Raymond Chandler's second novel, the highly regarded follow-up to The Big Sleep, continues the adventures of world-weary private investigator Philip Marlowe and his best friend, booze.

As much as I loved Marlowe's first adventure (bewildering as the plot might have been), Farewell, My Lovely is a slightly tougher book to adore. Although Chandler's gifts for description and characterization are just as sharp as they were the first time, Marlowe himself is less fun to spend time with. He's become a far more cynical man. His mood is perpetually sour, and he's as likely to toss out a scowl as a clever witticism. This is partly because he has less enjoyable secondary characters with which to banter. The first novel's Sternwood sisters are sorely missed.

That's not to say the book is without its pleasures, though. Among the best is Anne Riordan, a spunky and funny female sidekick/pseudo-love interest, who is more than able to hold her own against Detective Grumpyface. She both grounds and antagonizes Marlowe, and their scenes together are among the best in the entire Chandler oeuvre.

The only substantial complaint I have with Farewell, My Lovely (and alas, it's a big one) is its casual racism. Marlowe himself tosses off the n-word on several occasions, along with other phrases like "Jap gardener". It's a bit disappointing, considering we're supposed to like the guy. But I realize it's just my liberal white guilt, attempting to force a modern viewpoint on a novel that would probably smack me in the mouth if it could.

Some fine plotting and evocative descriptions mitigate most of the damage. And unlike The Big Sleep, it's possible to comprehend the story of Farewell, My Lovely the first time you read it. That's gotta count for something.

While working a job that never pans out, PI Philip Marlowe is drawn against his will into a bar called Florian's by a very huge man. Moose Malloy has just spent eight years doing time, and he's looking for his girl Velma. Well, it has been eight years, and the bar's changed hands since then. The new owners and employees know nothing of any Velma, but Moose gets mad and someone gets dead, and Marlowe finds himself in the middle of something he never bargained for.

Being a good PI, Marlowe calls the police, and the case goes to a fellow named Nulty, who tries to inveigle Marlowe into helping him solve it. Marlowe says he'll let him know if he thinks of anything, then decides to follow up on the Velma angle. He goes into a hotel near the bar, asking about the previous owner, and learns where the man's widow still resides. So Marlowe decides to pay her a visit.

Mrs. Florian is a house-bound soul with a fondness for alcohol. It isn't hard to pry information out of her, armed with a bottle and a willingness to suffer being her drinking companion in order to get her to talk. The widow plays coy, but when she learns Moose is on the loose, she grows pale. Velma is dead, she says, so no use looking for her. Marlowe informs Nulty and goes back to his office.

There he receives a phone call about a job, although the caller is being very vague and mysterious about what he's to be doing for his money. Money is money, so Marlowe gets the address and agrees to meet the client that night. His name is Lindsay Marriott and he lives in the better part of time. He wants Marlowe to go with him while he does something, but he isn't to be seen or do anything. Marlowe doesn't like that and makes no bones about it, and then he lays down his rules. It seems that Marriott is paying to retrieve some stolen jewelry--very valuable jade, to be exact. It was taken from a lady, and the thieves are holding it for ransom.

Marlowe agrees to the job, for a hundred dollars, and instructions are received, along with directions. However, nothing is simple, and Marlowe gets sapped. By the time he wakes up, there's a strange girl there by the name of Anne Riordan, and Lindsay Marriott is deceased. Marlowe checks the man's pockets and finds something interesting--marihuana cigarettes in a cheap case. However, by the time the police arrive, those are no longer there.

Turns out Anne's father was once police chief of Bay City, so she can't help but be nosy about what she's stumbled across. Marlowe finds her attractive in a more than pretty face kind of way. She returns the cigarettes she stole to him, and he makes an interesting discovery--hidden inside are the business cards of a local psychic, Jules Amthor. So Marlowe sets off to investigate.

A dead man, an escaped convict, a missing girl, graft in high polices, a crooked doctor, gambling--all these things and more lie in wait for Philip Marlowe. The question is, has he bitten off more than he can chew, and are there people who are determined that he not find out the truth, no matter how they have to silence him?

Farewell, My Lovely is the sequel to The Big Sleep. It's another great read from Raymond Chandler. I'm really enjoying Marlowe's adventures. He's not a super hero, he's just an ordinary guy, doing his job, and as such he's not beyond getting hurt--and he does, because he keeps sticking his nose where it isn't wanted.

One thing to keep in mind when you read this is that it's a product of its times, much as Huckleberry Finn. Some of the terms used would be considered racist now, but they weren't then, so you have to realize that and either not be offended, or not read the book. Those don't detract from the enjoyment of the story.

Chandler has a definite way with words that I enjoy. For example, in talking about Marlowe's first sight of Moose Malloy: "He was looking up at the dusty windows with a sort of ecstatic fixity of expression, like a hunky immigrant catching his first sight of the Statue of Liberty." His description of scenery is also unique, pure Marlowe: "I got down to Montemar Vista as the light began to fade, but there was still a fine sparkle on the water and the surf was breaking far out in long smooth curves."

This story has a lot of twists and turns, and I didn't see the ending coming until it was on top of me. Raymond Chandler set the bar for detective stories, and he set it pretty damn high. I recommend this to anyone who loves mysteries and detectives, and to those who haven't put your toe in the water, try it, you'll like it.

After half a dozen years of honing his craft with short stories published in detective magazines, alcoholic former oil company suit Raymond Chandler graduated to producing full-length novels in 1939 with The Big Sleep. He followed that with Farewell My Lovely the next year.

Both works feature sardonic first-person narration from lone wolf private dick Philip Marlowe and plots that are long on atmospherics and colorful characters and short on strict plausibility and neat resolutions (in fact, one murder goes unaccounted for in The Big Sleep). Nevertheless, Chandler remains one of the giants of the detective fiction genre as well as arguably one of the most influential stylists in American letters. Farewell My Lovely shows him at the top of his game.

Ostensibly, it follows Marlowe as he investigates the murder of a black man by a white ex-con looking for the girlfriend who sent him to prison. That leads to other investigations and various scrapes with both cops and hoods. But that's just the superstructure on which Chandler hangs Marlowe's narration, which is the template for every world-weary loner tough guy to come.

Unlike The Big Sleep and its focus on sordid sex, Farewell My Lovely despite one very fatale femme fatale prefers to emphasize the old ultra violence and Marlowe does take a couple of pretty good beatings but keeps on ticking. A true classic.

With the exception of Charles Dickens, has any writer has more influence on narration than Raymond Chandler? Dozens and dozens of writers -- not always crime writers -- have tried to sound like Philip Marlowe. Dozens of movies have featured Philip Marlowe-like narrators, including the theatrical release of BLADE RUNNER, where Rick Deckard sound nothing so much as a 21st Century updating. And perhaps there have been even more parodies. Either way, we all know what detective narrators are supposed to sound like, and we know this because of Raymond Chandler.

Raymond Chandler did not invent hardboiled detective fiction. He essentially took Dashiell Hammett's invention and focused nearly all his attention on prose style, character, and detail. There is an almost tactile quality to many of his stories, to the extent where you feel you could almost reach out and wipe the dust off a desk with your finger. There is, also, an almost wanton disregard of plot. If you read Raymond Chandler for plot, you are misreading him. I'll admit that in several of his novels I'm still unclear what happened. But who cares? The brilliance is in the texture, the detail. Take smell. Read virtually any other detective, crime, mystery, or hardboiled novel and look at how often other writers mention smells and then look at Chandler. He is constantly telling you what places smell like, whether mesquite or sage or sandalwood or whatever. Chandler wrote with heightened senses. I frankly can't get around to caring that his plots aren't very tight because other things absorb all my attention.

FAREWELL, MY LOVELY is one of my favorite Chandler novels, perhaps only behind THE BIG SLEEP and his flawed masterpiece THE LONG GOODBYE. It featured many of his most memorable characters, especially the doomed Moose Malloy, and many of his most unforgettable scenes. Because of Chandler's ability to sketch a scene in such astonishing detail, there are scenes in his books that are as easy to visualize as it is a scene in a movie. He is that vivid and precise in his depiction. A great example is Marlowe's visit to Mrs. Florian in his search for Velma. It would be a person of very poor imagination who didn't get a strong sense of what her house looked like, smelled like, felt like.

This is also one of his best books because it is one of the most tragic. The end of the novel feels almost like the end of Hamlet, with nearly all of the major characters either dead or at least shattered. And like with most of Chandler, there isn't an overly nice resolution of the mystery, whereby the detective magically makes everything nice and tidy and correct. Marlowe gets to the bottom of things, but often what he finds when he gets there is an abyss. And speaking of Chandler's influence, can one imagine the end of Raymond Polanski's CHINATOWN without Marlowe?

As a side note, there have been two very good film versions of FAREWELL, MY LOVELY. The first was made by RKO while Chandler was still alive and was originally released with that title. It tanked at the box office, mainly because it starred former Warner Brothers boy crooner Dick Powell. His style of musical had gone out of style and no one wanted to see what they assumed was a musical. So RKO renamed it MURDER, MY SWEET, which obviously could not be a musical, and re-released it. It was a box office success and was crucial in launching the second half of Dick Powell's career, this time as a serious dramatic actor. Chandler himself was horrified at the casting of Powell as Marlowe, but later proclaimed that he thought Powell was outstanding in the role. By the way, the person that Chandler himself thought would have made the ideal Marlowe was Cary Grant. The second version of FAREWELL, MY LOVELY was released in 1975 with Robert Mitchum as Marlowe. With apologies to Humphrey Bogart, Mitchum is my favorite Marlowe. He was a tad too old for the role, but apart from that he absolutely nailed the cynicism and latent nobility of Marlowe. My only regret is that Mitchum didn't begin making a string of Marlowe films when he was 35. As it was he was too old in his second appearance as Marlowe in a bizarre version of THE BIG SLEEP set, of all places, in London.

This is the second Raymond Chandler novel I have read after "The Long Goodbye". I rarely ever read fiction but I can not overemphasize how much I enjoy reading Chandler's novels. These stories are most definitely NOT "page turners" and I mean that as a compliment. A "page turner" leaves the reader in suspense about what is going to happen or what is going to be revealed, often leading me, at least, to superficially scanning much of the prose in order to move ahead more quickly. There is some of this suspense in "Farewell My Lovely" (actually more than in "Goodbye" which spends more time philosophizing) but it is in taking every sentence as it comes, rolling it around in your mouth and savoring the flavor that gives the real pleasure in these novels.
What particularly stands out in this story is the shades of gray of everything. Whereas many detective stories try to fit all the pieces together at the end and show us good guys and bad guys, Chandler's protoganist PI Philip Marlowe sees the world in shades of gray. He doesn't attempt to get to the bottom of people's motivations, and that includes himself. At the beginning of the story, he sees a big white man enter a black nightclub and then sees a black man come flying out the door. For no apparent reason, and admitting that it was none of his business, Marlowe goes in to see what is happening and gets drawn into the mystery. We see people commit murders and yet Marlowe feels that they are not "all bad". Marlowe encounters some policemen who are good, some who are bad and some who are in the middle. In the end, Marlowe figures out more or less what happened, but admits there are holes in his theory, and he can't completely explain why the characters he encountered acted the way they did. This is the way the real world operates and Chandler/Marlowe is telling us to be honest with ourselves and to admit that we often don't know why we do the things we do and whether we are being really consistent.
I find it interesting to note that although this story was written almost 70 years ago, it shows a world that is pretty indistinguishable to our own. The story does not seem "dated". We see the materialist Los Angeles society that I grew up in during the 1960's and 1970's, and the type of people who live on its fringes. The only jarring note I encountered showing the changes in technology since 1940 was when Marlowe mentions he saw an "ice truck" parked on the street. Well, I guess time does move on.
In closing, this novel has one of the most famous Chandler-quotations of them all: "I needed a drink, I needed a lot of life insurance, I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a coat, a hat, and a gun."

Yah, I've mentioned before that there were some cases that our boy, our private eye, one Philip Marlowe should have walked away from, walked quickly away from. Like that case, the case he called the Little Sister, trap, uh, case up the Hollywood hills trying to protect a loose living rising young starlet tied up to a no good gangster that he almost lost his license (and his head) over and that some very unhappy L.A. (and Bay City) coppers are still stewing over. Of course he should have backed doff here too, although unlike that Hollywood caper nobody told him, or could tell him, to back off. Not at least when an ex-con named Moose, correctly named Moose, had his wanting habits, his Velma wanting habits on. And the gigantic size of him settled the matter, settled it no uncertain terms even when Moose said she hadn't written him, written him up in stir in about six years. All the goliath said was his Velma would have her reasons. Sweet Jesus.

Sweet Jesus is right because before our boy Marlowe got through he had been beaten, drugged, framed and re-framed, shot at and almost swallowed whole. All for a woman who had no intentions, no intentions in hell, of going back to the Moose. She had moved on to the big time, stepped up in class, and was not going back to dives singing for nickels and dimes, putting up with cheap drunk hollers, and unwanted advances. She had changed her postal zone and worked her way up with a sweet walking daddy, a sweet old walking daddy, the best kind for the Velmas of the world. Why the hell do you think she hadn't written the Moose in six years. And moreover but don't tell him this although Marlowe figured it out pretty quickly had been the one who fingered him on his last bank job (that was why he did dime minus good behavior, what else). So no way, no way, was she looking to be found. And she had the wherewithal to be "unfound."

"Unfound" except one Philip Marlowe, maybe kicking and screaming, or maybe later because he had grown "fond" of Moose, or maybe just because he was a guy used to chasing windmills in lost causes, chasing them wherever they led, was on the case. So he unwound the thing, went back to old days of Velma and Moose at the run down Florian Café over on Central Avenue in bygone days L.A. and worked his way forward. Worked his way forward though those previously mentioned beatings, a drugging (Christ he was seeing spiders and pin wheels while in the throes of that mess), a frame-up or two, some cop harassment, and no co-operation from the Moose other than the edict to find his precious Velma. So yes he found her, and yes, she was one of those classic femme fatales, and yes, as well she had to learn the Marlowe life lesson the hard way- "crime, doesn't pay". Read this little beauty to get the details of the twists and turns of Marlowe's finding that damn Velma.

Oh yah, about Raymond Chandler, about the guy who wrote the book. Like I said in another review he, along with Brother Dashiell Hammett (the author of The Thin Man, and creator of The Maltese Falcon's Sam Spade maybe the most famous tough guy detective of them all. Who, come to think of it, also had a judgment problem when it came to women, although not Hollywood women but up North in Frisco town) turned the dreary gentile drawing-room sleuth by-the-numbers crime novels that dominated the reading market back in the day on its head and gave us tough guy blood and guts detectives we could admire, could get behind, warts and all. Thanks, guys.

In Chandler's case he drew strength from his startling use of language to describe Marlowe's environment much in the way a detective would use his heightened powers of observation during an investigation, missing nothing. Marlowe was able to size up, let's say, a sizzling blonde, as a statuesque, full-bodied and ravishing dame and then pick her apart as nothing but a low-rent gold-digger. Of course that never stopped him from taking a run at one or two of them himself and then sending them off into the night, or to the clink, to fend for themselves. He also knew how to blow off a small time chiseler, a grifter, as so much flamboyance and hot air not neglecting to notice that said grifter had moisture above his upper lip indicating that he stood in fear of something if only his shadow as he attempted to pull some caper, or tried to pull the wool over Marlowe's eyes.

The list of descriptions goes on and on -sullen bartenders wiping a random whisky glass, flighty chorus girls arm in arm with wrong gee gangsters, Hollywood starlet wannabes displaying their wares a little too openly, old time geezers, toothless, melting away in some thankless no account job, guys working out of small-time airless no front cheap jack offices in rundown building s on the wrong side of town doing, well, doing the best they can. And cops, good cops, bad cops, all with that cop air about them of seen it all, done it all blasé, and by the way spill your guts before the billy- club comes down (that spill your guts thing a trait that our Marlowe seems organically incapable of having). He had come from them, from the D.A.s office in the old days, had worked with them on plenty of cases but generally he tried to treat them like one might a snake not quite sure whether it is poisonous or not.

At the same time Chandler was a master of setting the details of the space Marlowe had to work in- the high hill mansions and the back alley rooming houses (although usually not the burgeoning ranchero middle class locales since apparently that segment of society has not need of his services and therefore no need of a description of their endless sameness and faux gentility). He has a fix on the museum-like quality of the big houses, the places like General Sternwood's in The Big Sleep or Mrs. Murdock's in The High Window reflecting old wealth California. And he has a razor sharp sense of the arrivisite, the new blood all splash and glitter, all high- ceiling bungalow, swimming pools, and landscaped gardens.

But where Chandler made his mark was in his descriptions of the gentile seedy places, the mansions of old time Bunker Hill turned to rooming houses with that faint smell of urine, that strong smell of liquor, that loud noise that comes with people living too close together, too close to breath their simple dreams. Or the descriptions of the back alley offices in the rundown buildings that had seen better days populated by the failed dentists, the sly repo men, the penny ante insurance brokers, the con artists, the flotsam and jetsam of the losers in the great American West night just trying to hang on from rent payment to rent payment. Those denizens of these quarters usually had a walk on role, or wound up with two slugs to the head, but Chandler knew the type, had the type down solid.

Nor was Chandler above putting a little social commentary in Marlowe's mouth. Reflections on such topics as that very real change after World War II in the kind of swarms that were heading west to populate the American Western shore night. The rise of the corner boys hanging, just hanging, around blasted storefronts, a few breaking off into the cranked up hot rod hell's highway night. The restless mobsters for broken back East looking to bake out in the southern California sun while taking over the vast crime markets. The wannabe starlets ready to settle for less than stardom for the right price. The old California money (the gold rush, gold coast, golden era money) befuddled by the all new waves coming in. And above all a strong sense of the rootlessness, the living in the moment, the grabbing while the grabbing was good mentality that offended old Marlowe's honor code.

And of course over a series of books Chandler expanded the Marlowe character, expanded his range of emotions, detailed his growing world-weariness, his growing wariness, his small compromises with that code of honor that he honed back in the 1930s. Yes, Marlowe the loner, the avenging angel , the righter of wrongs, maybe little wrongs but wrongs in this wicked old world. The guy who sometimes had to dig deep in his office desk drawer to grab a shot or six of whiskey to help him think things through. Marlowe the guy of a thousand punches, the guy of a hundred knocks on the head, the guy who had taken a more than one slug for the cause, the guy who was every insurance company's nightmare and a guy who could have used some Obamacare health insurance no questions asked . Yah, Marlowe.

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Original review

Phillip Marlowe, Raymond Chandler's classic noir hard-boiled private detective forever literarily associated with Los Angeles and its means streets is right at home here in his search for the inevitable `missing woman' (`dame' for the non-politically correct types) of an ex-convict who will not take no for an answer. And a `missing woman" who wants to stay missing and will not take no for an answer. There is plenty of sparse but functional dialogue, physical action and a couple of plot twists, particularly around the identity of the above-mentioned `dame' that caught me off guard. Give me those background oil derricks churning out the wealth while looking for Rusty Regan in Big Sleep or the run down stucco flats in pursue of Moose's Velma in Farewell, My Lovely any day. As always with Chandler you get high literature in a plebian package. Read on.

Raymond Chandler creates a world of grime and crime in his second novel Farewell, My Lovely. Protagonist and private detective Phillip Marlowe falls into a case when he's taken into an old nightclub with a large ex-con named Moose Malloy. Malloy is looking for his girl Velma, but it seems that the place has been taken under new ownership. Malloy winds up killing a man there, unable to control his temper, but that isn't Marlowe's only trouble. He goes along for the ride on a jewelry ranson deal where his client is brutally beaten to death. Things get stranger and stranger the more things happen, and plenty does.

Even if you've seen any or all of the movie versions, you'll probably find yourself guessing to the very end. How? Because Chandler creates a world like no other, a world truly his own. He preferred Dick Powell as Marlowe in the 40s noir film Murder, My Sweet, an adaptation of this book.

Chandler has an amazing grasp of the Marlowe character. Every line is distinct and memorable. Despite the lurid setting, you'll probably find yourself laughing at Marlowe's wit and sarcasm. This is no childrens' book, but it's an indulgent read. Don't miss it.

I recently listened to the unabridged version of this book narrated by Elliott Gould, and while Chandler's glimpse of 1940's era Los Angeles was surely entertaining, I still like Dashiell Hammett's "Continental Op" novels better. In Farewell, My Lovely, private dick Philip Marlowe starts out working for a barber on a minor job and unrealistically stumbles onto a murder by a hulk of an ex-con, looking for his old girl Velma in a club where she used to work. Marlowe then is mysteriously contacted out of the blue to provide security for a shady jewel transaction, in which a rich dandy is to attempt to buy back some precious jade from the thieves who stole it.
The novel moves at a brisk pace, and while some of the plot twists seem a little forced, they are entertaining nonetheless. One of my main problems with the story is that Marlowe seems to spend most of the novel putting his life in danger, getting knocked out, shot at or drugged, without much of an incentive to get involved. He often seems to be acting on his own, without a paying client, despite warnings from the police to stay away coupled with the obvious dangers. Hammett's continental op, in novels like The Dain Curse, at least had a paying client ordering him to snoop into the multi-layered mysteries, with significant insurance money at stake.
Ultimately, without giving away too much of the story, Chandler does a pretty good job of throwing a lot of balls in the air and wrapping up most of the loose ends by story's end. Some threads are left unresolved, like the whereabouts and motives of the mysterious doctor and psychic in Bay City, but most of the rest of the plot makes sense. LIke another reviewer said, at the end of the novel, while you may have enjoyed the ride, you are left with somewhat of an empty feeling.
As for the narration, I expected a little more from Mr. Gould, an accomplished stage and screen actor who seems to sleepwalk his way through the beginning of the book as if he was handed a copy of the novel, a microphone, and told to read. He later changes pace a little, adopting different voices for different characters, but I found the voices ill-suited to the characters and sometimes caricatures of policemen or gangsters, as if the novel was a scene from a "Bowery Boys" episode.

"Farewell, My Lovely" is such an amazing book. From the first page, this novel does what all Chandler books do-- transports you to a whole 'nother world, so real it feels like you're actually there. FML is such an awe-inspiring accomplishment for the immensely talented man of letters, Raymond Chandler. Most of the time I was absolutely floored, just sitting there with my mouth wide open, marvelling at his genius. Writing is hardly ever this good, and when it is, the great stuff usually isn't the abundance of the book (as RC's is), rather, it's in little snippets here and there. There must be a God, because Chandler's writing makes me realize the potential of us humans to transcend the ordinary and be what he is-- extraordinary. Not to mention that the mystery will have you guessing all the way through, and even without the cynical prose (yes, I said prose) which manages to be beautifully ugly and positively negative at the same time (I told you he was a genius), is excellent in of itself. So, I urge every person who hasn't yet done so to read Raymond Chandler. He is not just a mystery writer (which usually means sub-standard literature) but he totally, without a doubt, transcended the genre. I guarantee his writing will blow you away. His clever, cheeky remarks, his sarcasm, his minimalistic prose, his cynical outlook, the dames, the coppers, the criminals-- that and more is what you can look forward to in this masterpiece of the English language.

In "Farewell, My Lovely," Raymond Chandler's second Philip Marlowe novel, Marlowe reluctantly agrees to help a careworn police detective search for a nightclub girl named Velma, a former girlfriend of an ogreish ex-convict named Moose Malloy who is wanted for murder. Marlowe's first lead is the nightclub owner's widow, whom he plies with liquor, only to find out that Velma's whereabouts are being kept a guarded secret. Then, in what initially seems like an unrelated subplot, Marlowe is hired by a man who wants "backup" while he delivers money to some jewel thieves. The man ends up murdered, and Marlowe meets a mysterious girl at the scene of the crime. To think there's no connection between this event and Velma's disappearance would be to underestimate Chandler's genius at plot construction.
Chandler cleverly plants false leads to twist the already unpredictable plot and subtle clues that make sense at the end. His colorful characters are masters of deceit; the reader imagines that these people must have great poker faces. They know a lot more than what they're telling Marlowe, and it's exciting to know that Marlowe will eventually be able to guess what they're leaving out. Like J.R.R. Tolkien's Gandalf, Marlowe is one of literature's greatest magicians; the fun of reading the book is waiting for him to pull the rabbit out of the hat at the end.

Being a fan of "modern" mysteries, I always enjoy picking up a "classic" such as "Maltese Falcon" and "I,the Jury." THis was my first Chandler novel. I won't say I liked this book as much as the others mentioned yet reading it made me think of a dialog line from the first "National Treasure" film where Nicholas Cage reads the Declaration of Independence and says "they just don't talk like that anymore." The same holds true here; the characters, the way they talk, and the way a bottle of booze can take care of everything captures the time and makes you understand what made Chandler so revered up to this day.

As so many great novels do, the story line is secondary to you getting engrossed in the time period, the city of Los Angeles, the hero(??), private eye Philip Marlow, and those he meets up with. As some have mentioned, the plot seems somewhat disjointed early on. It almost borders on Quentin Tarantino movie territory in that you have to wait awhile for a couple of separate incidents to come together in order to grasp the entire story. Marlowe literally stumbles into the middle of a couple of murders and the women, bad guys, and good guys that Marlow comes across makes for a sometimes confusing yet very interesting novel.

A good novel but, for me, not as much fun as Spillane or engrossing as Hammett's classic work. Still, this is the kind of book you read, enjoy, and say as you are closing that book cover, "they don't make 'em like they used to."

In Raymond Chandler's crime world, everyone's got a gat (a gun) - even sickly old women ("I feel like Death Valley") and nice daughters of former coppers. People are led to locations where their screams will not be heard. Drinking establishments are respectable if there hasn't been a knife fight in the past month.
****Chandler's detective, Philip Marlowe, is looking for a case that pays. But the action starts when he's not on assignment. He follows a stranger into a "Negro dinge joint" for no other compelling reason except that it wasn't any of his business. The dinge joint turns out to be a homicide scene, and Marlowe continues to follow the case without a real client in sight. Even the police aren't overly-interested in his participation.
****He's a smart-mouth. An almost-heel. He frequently talks to himself out loud. Sometimes he hears a voice replying and realizes it's his own. This guy's a freak.
****It's not hard to imagine how a recent writer like Jonathan Lethem could create a detective who has Tourette's Syndrome in "Motherless Brooklyn" (Vintage Books, 1999). A detective is really just a man with serious quirks - he's also smarter than you think he is and likable enough to get the girl, at least for a little while.
****Marlowe's a special brand of freak. He notices with exacting detail and describes in kid-like exaggeration what people wear. He fixates on the body musk of henchmen, the desirability of women, and a pink-headed bug crawling around an office.
****There are "agents" in the universe - men with fluid positions that we merely call private investigators. Marlowe can fall into a scenario not of his creation. He can be as one character describes, "a late comer to the show," but just in time to be in on the action. He carries the arc in a story and brings clarity. If he can't figure things out, there is no solution to be had.
****"Farewell, My Lovely" is typical Chandler - tough, sardonic, thickly sliced but smartly dialogued, and oddly, funny as hell.

Farewell My Lovely, Raymond Chandler's second novel in the Philip Marlowe series, transcends the genre it helped to create, and is now (deservedly) viewed by many as literature and as social criticism.
Chandler creates moods and telegraphs emotions via the poetic ramblings and outrageous similes from the mind of Philip Marlowe, the protagonist/detective/narrator who is picked up by the collar and dragged into a murder mystery that exposes not only the hypocrisy beneath the surface in the lifestyles of the rich and beautiful, but ultimately, the depravity of the human condition. And all of this is delivered with a caustic sense of humor, a wry wit, and a hypersensitivity to the visual world and it's translation into the language of the mean streets.
Although Chandler died shortly before I was born, I grew up in L.A., and I can say that the L.A. Chandler wrote of is in many ways the city of my childhood memories, so well did he capture the ambiance and ambivalence of the 'city of angels'.
Some have criticized his plotting and plausability, but emotion, action, and detail were what interested him the most, and in these he excelled. FAREWELL MY LOVELY must be viewed within the context of it's era (published in 1940) to be fully appreciated, but the flow of action, the visual aspect of it's language, and the insights into the very human conflict of corruption verses conscience are timeless.
This book, like the first in the Marlowe series (THE BIG SLEEP) was written at the height of Chandler's creative career, and exemplifies the style that has made him a writer's writer, possibly the most imitated author of the past century.

In case you were wondering that Raymond Chandler's `The Big Sleep' was a fluke, wonder no more, go and read his follow up "Farewell, My Lovely". It is hard to choose which one is the best, because they are both so good. In this new adventure of his best character Philip Marlowe there are many more adventures, thrills and mysteries than in the first novel.
In this second step of the noir literature, Chandler has built up and developed his style and characters, so he spends no time with that. The novel begins with plain action, and it takes only a few pages for the writer to set the main mystery of this narrative. Once it is done, he has all time in the world to make the weirdest people cross Marlow's path.
Like in the previous book, the prose is dry, there aren't many descriptions --only of some characters, but nothing that evocative-- and it is not a bad thing. by using such a device Chandler is able to write non-stop action making the main plot more and more intrincated, until its solution. A great book, highly recommended to readers who like mistery novels of high quality and beautiful prose.

I hated how 1940 racism suppurated in this story and nobody saw anything wrong with it.

I didn't like how sometimes I didn't understand what was happening, but then neither did Philip Marlowe.

By the time I didn't understand I was mesmerized by red neon flashing further and further across grimy hotel ceilings, the damp smell of sage in the canyons that flared my nostrils, the scraping of pebbles pulled by the ocean tide.

I liked seeing how words can be magic.

Here is a random paragraph (truly) about the same as you'll find on any page in this book: "After a while there was a faint smell of the ocean. Not very much, but as if they had kept this much just to remind people this had once been a clean open beach where the waves came in and creamed and the wind blew and you could smell something besides hot fat and cold sweat."

I loved seeing how paragraphs can also be poems.

In this his second adventure, private detective Philip Marlowe - more or less in between cases - pokes his inquisitive nose where it doesn't belong. Encountering a behemoth of an ex-con, Moose Malloy, on the street, Marlowe follows the big man into a bar and witnesses a murder. And before the reader can ask, "Where's my Velma?" - the question makes sense when you read the novel - Marlowe finds himself embroiled in police corruption, a blackmail scam, chasing a gang of jewelry thieves, another murder and encounters a young female who becomes his pseudo-partner, a psychic con-man, a crooked doctor and is propositioned by beautiful young woman who is married to a much older and very wealthy man. All the while Marlowe attempts to keep tabs on Moose.

If possible the plot/story-line of Farewell, My Lovely is even more convoluted than its predecessor, The Big Sleep. Marlowe meeting new players with each twist and turn of the investigation and getting physically bounced around on a regular basis. (For the politically correct there are a handful of racial slurs which may make the reader cringe.) But somehow the author ties it all together in the end with maybe a not so neat bow.

This being a Chandler novel there are plenty of classic "Marlowe-isms". After being called to a rich client's home, where "the carpeting almost tickled his ankles", he describes the den he is escorted into as "a room where anything could happen, except work."

When embarking on a night's work he makes the observation, "I needed a drink, I needed a lot of life insurance. I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a coat, a hat and a gun."

Ahhhh - to be Philip Marlowe.

Was a very good hard boiled detective novel, well written. Certainly racist elements, which are jarring to encounter today, but I take this as an example of attitudes at the time, and unfortunately still present today though less overt.

Chandler is great fun to read. He structures his sentences and paragraphs with such metaphoric precision that he turns the mundane crime noir into literature. His hero is none other than perhaps an alter ego of Chandler himself Philip Marlowe. Marlowe is the straight talking, honest PI that will not accept any money until he is on the case and everything is legit. I wondered as I read this if Chandler didn't wished he could live his life in the honest and opened fashion of his hero. In `Farewell, My Lovely" Marlowe searches for Velma a nightclub singer and love of ex-con Moose Malloy. Murder, dope dealers, gambling ships, femme fatales and the always questionable police keep Marlowe on and off his toes.

This is another of Chandler's canon that is worth adding to the reading list.

After reading The Big Sleep, I was weary about picking up another Chandler book. I was told that his writing style matures and is easier to follow and grasp in later books. And yes, that is true in his second book.

Farewell My Lovely is a novel about a hard nosed L.A. detective name Phillip Marlowe. Marlowe is the master and snappy one liners and sarcasm. Chandler brings Marlowe to the L.A. area and delves him into the world of 1940s noir crime, with excellent description and tons of ambiance befitting the genre.

At first, Marlowe encounters a murder by near accident, and without giving away the plot, he is entwined in a much deeper scandal with many different type of characters throughout the area, from a curious woman, to psychics, corrupt cops, organized crime leaders, and crooked sanitariums.

Near the end, the book become a little harder to follow, and the plot turns and twists become a little too much, but all in all, it's a great detective novel.

Ah Chandler. And Phillip Marlowe his private eye. This is the second time for this novel, but it's been so long it was like reading it for the first time. The characters, descriptions, and plot are vivid and complex. Marlowe witnesses the murder of a bar owner in the black side of town (1940s LA) by a big lug ex-con, Moose Malloy. Malloy is in search of his lost love, Velma who used to sing here when it was a white bar. This simple set-up embroils Marlowe knee deep in connected crimes. Well done, by a master.

Raymond Chandler's creation, Philip Marlowe, is a character that has influenced modern fiction greatly. Without Marlowe the archetype of "private dick" would not carry the cultural weight that it does today. It is true that the plot lines of many Chandler works are contorted to the point of no return, but it is not the plot that counts. The reason why these books are so successful is because we the reader become enthralled by Marlowe and his immediate knowledge of all things that surround him. Because Chandler made Marlowe such a carefully wrought character, Farewell, My Lovely becomes an examination of the human character rather than a list of dastardly deeds committed by crooks without depth. Every scene is an interaction between fully developed characters. He defines himself in relation to the people and actions that whirl in and out of his life. Marlowe offers us plenty of insight into his opinion of his relations. Because he is such an endearing person we want to believe every word he says. He is a product of the LA scene where he works. We the reader build confidence in our hero because he is capable of sizing up any situation immediately. Slowly we learn to trust Marlowe's way of navigating the underbelly of LA. I truly enjoyed Farewell, My Lovely because Chandler forces through Marlowe an undeniable wit and charm. He will make you laugh and draw you into his brand of thinking about other characters. I wonder sometimes when reading Chandler about how Marlowe would size me up. I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys reading about interesting characters and loves a wry wit and dark charm.

Raymond Chandler writes in a raw, hard hitting style that moves right along and is hard to put down. They made a movie from this novel. I believe it's "Murder, my sweet". The movie is very well done as well. Well worth the read.

Classic Chandler: cynical, smart and with imagery like no other writer. A great mystery by an incredible writer. Some loose ends seem to tie up a little too conveniently, but overall a easy and enjoyable read.

Raymond Chandler was such a master at his style of prose that you only have to read the first two paragraphs of FAREWELL, MY LOVELY to know exactly what sort of story you're in for. Those two paragraphs perfectly set up the plot that follows: a thriller crossing in and out of the racial divisions of 1940's Los Angeles involving seedy speakeasies, and off-shore gambling, with double-crossing as far as the eye can see. Wonderfully gritty stuff.
This particular Chandler novel has a lot going for it. The hero, Philip Marlowe, is as entertaining as ever. The setting is the familiar scene of other Chandler stories -- alive, heavy and oppressively Los Angeles. The plot is logical, but jumps around a lot, which is not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, the more it moves around, the more room Chandler has to incorporate evil-doings; I quite lost track of exactly how many crimes are committed or alluded to during the course of the book. No matter how farfetched it is, Chandler's prose is utterly gripping and absorbing.
I think Philip Marlowe must drink his weight in cheap liquor several times over during the course of this adventure, but you can't help but like the guy. He punches, he shoots, he boozes. He even solves the case by the end. He sure takes a beating in this one, but he keeps coming back for more. He's everything a pulp detective should be - angry, arrogant, determined, and with just a hint of pathos to make him interesting enough to carry the story.
The book as a whole is just too appealing and entertaining not to be a fun experience. Chandler is pretty much the benchmark for these sorts of stories about guns, police, and corruption, so if you like the genre, you might as well read the man who invented it. Tough guys yelling, "Beat it!" at each other might not be everyone's cup of tea, but Chandler is so good as telling the story that any inadequacies in the conventions of this genre are wallpapered over with some slick dialog and snappy comebacks.
I read FAREWELL, MY LOVELY more for the great atmosphere and tone than for its overall plot. The fact that the storyline wraps up nicely at the end is merely a bonus. But the real way to enjoy this book is to just let the atmosphere, the characters and the prose just wash over you.

Marlowe is in a tough spot. A hulking behemoth who murders some folks and loves others is on the prowl, and Marlowe sets out to unravel a twisted tale of crookery. Fatal debs seem to assault him from every angle, and Marlowe is beaten, drugged and abused mercilessly, but somehow he never gives up and keeps doggedly pursuing the truth about corruption and death in Los Angeles.

Chandler's use of language is brilliant as always, and the plot is somewhat difficult to follow, but really, with Chander at work, who needs plot? The book is beautiful and the prose is blossoming with unusual and evocative images. Chander ranks as one of the great American masters of prose.

Read this and weep...

Chandler has said in interviews he believes this is his favorite of his own works. He's right: this is probably his best novel, in a small body of work that is filled with excellent mysteries. This is the first of his I would pick up if you were interested in Chandler, and I think, along with The Maltese Falcon and Double Indemnity (Hammett and Cain, respectively) rounds out the triumvirate of best noir novels.Wayzata

The twists and turns in Chandler's plot are slick enough that I didn't see them all coming, but nothing gets past Marlowe and he plays his cards close to the vest. I liked The Long Goodbye a little better, but this one was close. A few scenes I found far fetched, like Marlowe's meeting with Brunette aboard the Montecito, but I suppose stuff like that's just part of the genre. Hard to put down this book, and I'll surely read Chandler again.

The tough-as-nails writing of Raymond Chandler has overtaken mysteries to so great an extent that it's easy to forget his role as a trailblazer. 'Farewell, My Lovely,' just Chandler's second novel, already burns with the rot of Los Angeles that spawned countless other imitations and had a far-reaching effect on both crime fiction and moviemaking over the next thirty-five years.

'Farewell, My Lovely' is a typically Chandlerian novel, using first person narrative and a slew of characters. Thirtyish private investigator Philip Marlowe starts with a dull case, before he gets pulled onto the scene of a murder at one of Los Angeles's Afro-American bars. The huge, White assailant Moose Malloy has recently left prison and is searching for his lost girlfriend. Marlowe finds himself beside a dead body and a load of curiosity. Helping with police investigations, he enters a labyrinth of the Los Angeles underworld, including crooked cops, hot blondes, swindling psychics, and racketeers.

Chandler's storytelling in the first person narrative of Marlowe is hard-boiled crime before it took on cliché status. The writing style is crude by necessity; found here is the private detective's rough and cynical attitude that influenced later antiheros like Peter Gunn and the noir style that dominated Hollywood movies. Besides several adaptations of Chandler to the big screen, other directors have paid homage, such as Roman Polanski in 'Chinatown' and David Lynch in 'Blue Velvet.'

'Farewell, My Lovely' is a well-constructed novel, but not without flaw. Chandler lets none of the characters go to waste, each holding a pivotal role in Marlowe's detective work. This novel stays consistent with his first project, 'The Big Sleep,' in having Marlowe revisit the same territory of earlier chapters. There is no predictability at all and Chandler creates genuinely tense moments.

Marlowe, however, is steered by chance far too often and there are times when the action seems contrived, or without inevitability. The easy-going narration helps to smoothen over farfetched elements, such as the unlikelihood of Marlowe getting shoved into Moose Malloy's bar brawl, which is needed just to launch the story. The climax is also rather disappointing, taking place in an unimaginative location.

While dealing with the social realities of 1940s California, Chandler's novels still need to be considered as great entertainments rather than full-fledged literature. The novels make generalizations about human life but are mostly driven by plot. It is pulp fiction of the highest rank: well-written, often humorous, and highly dependable. This novel, like others of Chandler, should hold its place in the detective genre for ages to come.

The Chandler novels have been republished in an attractive collection by Black Lizard, the crime subsidiary of Vintage Books. 'Farewell, My Lovely' is 292 pages long, in a nice art deco format. Imperfect but highly entertaining, the novel is a must for crime fiction fans.

In Raymond Chandler's "Farewell My Lovely" we see the stereotypical detective, sitting in his detective agency, at his desk, looking out of a rain-streaked window, pondering something, something we will probably never figure out. The detective here is Philip Marlowe, Private Investigator, and he is presented with what seems like a simple jewelry theft case. Marlowe, with his wit and charm, instead confronts crooked cops, fraudulent psychiatric hospitals, blackmailers, con men, and beautiful and deadly women. Marlowe jumps, almost literally from situation to situation. Each scenario is highly entertaining, but a little difficult to believe. Either Philip Marlowe manages to fit thirty-four action-packed hours in one day or I don't know what. It's interesting how witty the character of Marlowe is and how unaffected he seems to be by all the events going on around him. Even when he is beat up, drugged, and almost killed, he gets up, and carries on. It is difficult to determine whether or not he does this solely for the money, or if he feels he has a personal investment, or perhaps desires the glorification. Chandler incorporates wonderful descriptions of sunny Los Angeles into his novel as we follow Marlowe around the city chasing after people, details, and a solution. He also uses a great amount of similes and metaphors, comparing everything to some strange seemingly unrelated object. Yet, when it comes down to it, this quintessential detective mystery fulfills all my requirements for a good book and left me guessing up until the end.

I love reading Raymond Chandler's books about Philip Marlowe, but was hesitant about an audio book version, as I wondered how it could come across as the exciting page-turner I knew. I was not disappointed, as Ray Porter did a great job narrating the book.

I started reading Raymond Chandler after the author of one of my favorite new authors of last year, Richard K. Morgan, was compared left and right to him. The comparison was apt, and Morgan should be flattered, because Chandler is a genius.

Farewell, My Lovely is Chandler's second book, and features his hero, Philip Marlowe, a smart-mouthed, hard-boiled private dick who is straight as an arrow. I had read that The Big Sleep, Chandler's first book, was his best, and that they descended in quality chronologically. But after reading this book, I know that is wrong. This is one of the best stories I've read in a long time. not only is the wonderful noir narrative there, but the mystery is first-rate.

Classic Raymond Chandler. Good read. Easy read on Kindle; kept going to dictionary because Chandler uses a lot of unfamiliar words. The second book in Phillip Marlowe series, and second one I've read. I'll read them all. I started to get classics from library rather than buying newer books; it saves a lot of $ and the reading quality of classics is generally better than new books.

For me the main pleasure of reading this novel derives from wisecracks zinging on almost every page. Here are a couple, plucked randomly:

The coffee shop smell was strong enough to build a garage on.
A bogus heartiness, as weak as a Chinaman's tea, moved into her face and voice.

And here is another one, a shot at Hemingway, as Marlowe explains a corrupt cop why he keeps calling him by that name: "A guy that keeps saying the same thing over and over until you begin to believe it must be good."

Hemingway may not be a great writer -- I'm not a big fan -- but he was a far better one than Chandler. That little charming fish story of his alone has (rightfully) much greater literary acclaim than all of Chandler's works put together.

Still, Raymond Chandler is a pleasure to read. He has a tremendous gift for storytelling. The wisecracks, the colorful characters, and the snappy dialogue make reading this novel, as well his other ones a pleasant experience, especially on lazy, boozy weekend afternoons. Nothing wrong with that.

Farewell, My Lovely was my first Raymond Chandler experience, a novel I first read back in junior year of high school, and one that will forever be known to me as the novel that defines noir, hardboiled detectives and gumshoe novels.

In this classic, detective Philip Marlowe gets hired to recover stolen jewels, which in turn has him running into the rogue gallery of gamblers, con men, crooked cops, and (of course) femme fatales. With this said, the story is completely character-driven, making it full of action and narrative. Just flip the book open to any page, and you'll clearly read slick, muscular dialogue and snappy comebacks. Chandler is a benchmark author for stories stripped of any literary fat.

Besides Dashiel Hammett, Chandler is the perennial writer of gumshoe detectives. And Farewell, My Lovely is the perennial gumshoe novel.

I purchased this Audiobook on Cd, being familiar with Raymond Chandler as an author, but having never read any. I bought this solely for Ed Bishop being in it. It turns out I really totally enjoyed this book being dramatized. I have since purchased the other Marlowe plays available. I love the honesty, though brutal at times, of Marlowe's character. To me he is a dedicated, likeable guy who gets the job done and done well. For anybody who enjoys the old radio plays from years ago..this is a must for you. Any mega fan of actor Ed Bishop, (like me who totally fell in love with him years ago) this is also a must to own! Amy

Raymond Chandler was the master of the hardboiled genre. The rich descriptions of the seedy side of pre-WWII LA is enough to make this book a winner. Our hero (Marlowe of course) gets drug into a bar and almost witnesses a murder, then gets hired by a rich playboy who drags him to another murder scene. He meets a spunky young lady, gets hired by a rich dame (to use the language of the genre), and runs into a pyschic and other strange characters. How does it all tie together? Does it even matter? Just enjoy the ride.

Farewell My Lovely introduces readers to the seedy underworld that can be found among the deliciously rich in Southern California. This novel reads like a Quentin Tarantino production where every one seems cliché cool, moves swift, and screams with devious intentions. The main detective Philip Marlowe knows the underground world around Southern California as he is initially recruited to find stolen jewels but ultimately stumbles upon a murder case full of twists and turns. Crime follows everywhere he goes as he meets gamblers, fraud, vixens, con men, prostitutes, poor, and rich. This books relishes in the criminal underground and that is exactly what makes this novel such an enticing read. Perhaps one of the greatest attributes of this book is the fact that Marlowe, like the rest of us, is not flawless. Rather than being the astute Sherlock Holmes, this gifted sleuth has normal problems which we all can relate to. He never seems invincible and always seems to be on the verge of trouble which ultimately makes the book more enjoyable. The only drawback is by the end of the book I had already guessed the criminal, but then again, I may have just gotten lucky.