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Lloyd Hopkins #3
Suicide Hill
Detective Sergeant Lloyd Hopkins is the most brilliant homicide detective in the Los Angeles Police Department and one of its most troubled. In his obsessive mission to protect the innocent, there is no line he won’t cross. Estranged from his wife and daughters and on the verge of being drummed out of the department for his transgressions, Hopkins is assigned to investigate a series of bloody bank robberies. As the violence escalates and the case becomes ever more vicious, Hopkins will be forced to cross the line once again to stop a maniac on a murder binge.
280 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1986
54 people are currently reading
825 people want to read
About the author
James Ellroy
189 books4,149 followersLee Earle "James" Ellroy is an American crime fiction writer and essayist. Ellroy has become known for a telegrammatic prose style in his most recent work, wherein he frequently omits connecting words and uses only short, staccato sentences, and in particular for the novels The Black Dahlia (1987) and L.A. Confidential (1990).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 92 reviews
July 25, 2018
The best book in the LA Noir series, and an obvious bridge to some of his best books.
August 16, 2010
Suicide Hill is a crappy name for a book, and the third book in James Ellroy's Lloyd Hopkins series of books. The title of the books i just shitty, I don't know what I would name the book, but the title is blah. Sorry, demon dog.
I don't know anything about James Ellroy's motivation at the time of this book being written. The cover of the mass-market I read says a Lloyd Hopkins Novel, as if that were being used as a selling point. I get the feeling that Lloyd Hopkins was an attempt to create a reusable protagonist, a Philip Marlowe for the cocaine eighties. I don't know if Ellroy consciously ended the Lloyd Hopkins series of books with this one, or if, thankfully, he just moved on to the start of his L.A. Quartet.
D. Pow commented already on how it can be interesting to see a great writer develop, and that is what the reader can see in this book. Many of the Ellroy themes and styles are beginning to be played with in this book. They are used in earlier books of his too, but this one is in a sense his final 'young' novel before he seriously begins to put distance between himself and, well the rest of the world of crime fiction.
Readers of Ellroy can easily find this book unsatisfactorily. His language is loose here. What he could say in a clipped five word sentence in American Tabloid might be seem like verbal diarrhea when it takes him a few sentences or a paragraph. The words he uses also seem a little confused. The lingo seems off. The fifties are melding strangely with the eighties. The worlds aren't jiving with each other. I don't have any proof, this is only a theory; but I would say that Ellroy is not a historical writer. The past that he writes about isn't the real past, and the words and language; the men and women wandering around in his books are a darkly rarified version of the past with Ellroy's spin put on them. The language he uses to bring these characters up from the ether of imagination to haunt our own reality is a mixture of real slang with a rhythm and vocabulary running through Ellroy's head. For this all to work Ellroy needs to put a temporal distance between the present he is writing in and the never-ending present that he writes about (because when he really gets going in another two books from this one there is only the present in his books, a present hurtling through history and events at a speed that attempts to out-run the demons of his characters pasts).
But all of this is the future Ellroy from when this book was written. The Ellroy that would begin to show himself The Big Nowhere and Black Dahlia before finding his way and just demolishing everything that came before in L.A. Confidential and then streamlining himself into the dark creator/destroyer of American Myths beginning with American Tabloid and (presently) culminating in Blood's a Rover.
As I said, this isn't a good book. It's entertaining, but it's a typical police crime book with a hard-boiled cop and some tough characters. The thing that makes this book stand out from a typical novel is the darkness. Ellroy's view of LA and the police is about as loving as the portrayal of both in the TV show Dragnet, but a Dragnet where Joe Friday burglars a suspects pad to plant evidence, tampers with witnesses, coerces a homosexual for information and then looks in as some of his fellow brothers in blue force a suspect to fellate a glock while being threatened with having his tonsils pierced with a nine millimeter round if he doesn't suck hard enough. This Joe Friday wouldn't show up for another book, but this book is the penultimate step to the cliff's edge.
I don't know anything about James Ellroy's motivation at the time of this book being written. The cover of the mass-market I read says a Lloyd Hopkins Novel, as if that were being used as a selling point. I get the feeling that Lloyd Hopkins was an attempt to create a reusable protagonist, a Philip Marlowe for the cocaine eighties. I don't know if Ellroy consciously ended the Lloyd Hopkins series of books with this one, or if, thankfully, he just moved on to the start of his L.A. Quartet.
D. Pow commented already on how it can be interesting to see a great writer develop, and that is what the reader can see in this book. Many of the Ellroy themes and styles are beginning to be played with in this book. They are used in earlier books of his too, but this one is in a sense his final 'young' novel before he seriously begins to put distance between himself and, well the rest of the world of crime fiction.
Readers of Ellroy can easily find this book unsatisfactorily. His language is loose here. What he could say in a clipped five word sentence in American Tabloid might be seem like verbal diarrhea when it takes him a few sentences or a paragraph. The words he uses also seem a little confused. The lingo seems off. The fifties are melding strangely with the eighties. The worlds aren't jiving with each other. I don't have any proof, this is only a theory; but I would say that Ellroy is not a historical writer. The past that he writes about isn't the real past, and the words and language; the men and women wandering around in his books are a darkly rarified version of the past with Ellroy's spin put on them. The language he uses to bring these characters up from the ether of imagination to haunt our own reality is a mixture of real slang with a rhythm and vocabulary running through Ellroy's head. For this all to work Ellroy needs to put a temporal distance between the present he is writing in and the never-ending present that he writes about (because when he really gets going in another two books from this one there is only the present in his books, a present hurtling through history and events at a speed that attempts to out-run the demons of his characters pasts).
But all of this is the future Ellroy from when this book was written. The Ellroy that would begin to show himself The Big Nowhere and Black Dahlia before finding his way and just demolishing everything that came before in L.A. Confidential and then streamlining himself into the dark creator/destroyer of American Myths beginning with American Tabloid and (presently) culminating in Blood's a Rover.
As I said, this isn't a good book. It's entertaining, but it's a typical police crime book with a hard-boiled cop and some tough characters. The thing that makes this book stand out from a typical novel is the darkness. Ellroy's view of LA and the police is about as loving as the portrayal of both in the TV show Dragnet, but a Dragnet where Joe Friday burglars a suspects pad to plant evidence, tampers with witnesses, coerces a homosexual for information and then looks in as some of his fellow brothers in blue force a suspect to fellate a glock while being threatened with having his tonsils pierced with a nine millimeter round if he doesn't suck hard enough. This Joe Friday wouldn't show up for another book, but this book is the penultimate step to the cliff's edge.
February 16, 2024
I read 'Because the Night' back in 2021--I really thought I would read the third Lloyd Hopkins before now. I liked this better than the second book, maybe not as much as the first. The ending really surprised me--I won't say more about that! Loved the Los Angeles setting. I live in Southern California so I'm very familiar with the Los Angeles area. The time period pretty much covers my college years. I like Ellroy's older settings better, but this is nostalgic in it's own way. Love Ellroy's writing style.
May 2, 2020
Παρότι δεν έχει το ίδιο βάθος με κάποια από το Κουαρτέτο του Λος Άντζελες απόψει πρόζας και συνολικής ιστορικής σημασίας, το τελευταίο βιβλίο της τριλογίας του εμμονικού μπάτσου Λόιντ Χόπκινς είναι ένα εξαιρετικά γραμμένο βιβλίο που δείχνει σε όλους πως ένας από τους μεγαλύτερους γραφιάδες της νουάρ λογοτεχνίας είναι εξαιρετικός σε αυτό που κάνει. Από μια άποψη είναι κρίμα που δεν γράφει πλέον ιστορίες τοποθετημένες στο σήμερα (κάτι που μπορεί να τον έβαζε πάνω από πολλούς υποτιθέμενους μαέστρους), ο Ελλρόυ πάντα είναι ευχάριστος να τον διαβάσεις και αυτό είναι ένα από τα καλύτερά του βιβλία.
March 1, 2021
As a guy who likes crime fiction and mysteries, I've heard a lot about James Ellroy. On paper, it feels like I should love James Ellroy. Then again, on paper, I should love Michael Connelly, and I just don't. I want to. I liked The Poet enough. But I've tried over and over and I'm not snagging on whatever everyone else is snagging on.
I suspect that that's going to be the case with James Ellroy. Suicide Hill is the story of a cop and a criminal who are both struggling with rage issues that stem from wanting to save people. In this crazy mix-em-up, Duane Rice - the criminal - is setting up a trio of bank robberies, the first couple of which are subtle and spiral out from the pervert underground of 1980s Los Angeles. Lloyd Hopkins, the cop, is a dangerous, unbalanced police officer who is unafraid to kill to get justice done.
There's a hell of a lot of nihilism going on. The person Rice is desperate to save might not care. Criminals and cops alike are bartering for their immortal soul at one time or another. Everyone is either crooked or corrupt. It's both fascinating and exhausting. I liked the IDEA of "there's no one to root for, because it's all bad," but the execution just made me sad.
Lloyd Hopkins features in a trilogy I likely won't read. This isn't the first time this year I started a series featuring a recurring cop character somewhere past the first book, and I do wonder if I'd like Lloyd Hopkins, and this series, a little more if I'd begun at the beginning. And look, I love the movie LA Confidential, and I still have a desire to read the book (and likely the quadralogy it's a part of), but I do worry that this icon of crime fiction might not be my bag.
I suspect that that's going to be the case with James Ellroy. Suicide Hill is the story of a cop and a criminal who are both struggling with rage issues that stem from wanting to save people. In this crazy mix-em-up, Duane Rice - the criminal - is setting up a trio of bank robberies, the first couple of which are subtle and spiral out from the pervert underground of 1980s Los Angeles. Lloyd Hopkins, the cop, is a dangerous, unbalanced police officer who is unafraid to kill to get justice done.
There's a hell of a lot of nihilism going on. The person Rice is desperate to save might not care. Criminals and cops alike are bartering for their immortal soul at one time or another. Everyone is either crooked or corrupt. It's both fascinating and exhausting. I liked the IDEA of "there's no one to root for, because it's all bad," but the execution just made me sad.
Lloyd Hopkins features in a trilogy I likely won't read. This isn't the first time this year I started a series featuring a recurring cop character somewhere past the first book, and I do wonder if I'd like Lloyd Hopkins, and this series, a little more if I'd begun at the beginning. And look, I love the movie LA Confidential, and I still have a desire to read the book (and likely the quadralogy it's a part of), but I do worry that this icon of crime fiction might not be my bag.
Read
May 25, 2019Another mistake from library visit - gave it a try, anyway.
January 27, 2016
In SUICIDE HILL, James Ellroy puts the emphasis on a wayward bank robber and his delusional dream of converting a junkie into a rock star prone to tricking to feed her habit, rather than the tainted series protagonist Lloyd Hopkins which gives the last installment in the Lloyd Hopkins trilogy a distinctly unique feel to its predecessors. Hopkins, is once again a man on a mission to deliver justice by any means. His sense of right and wrong, while slightly warped add an air of unpredictability to the book which is a stable in this highly readable noir trilogy. The story is sorrid, bloody, and complex in both a police procedural and psychological sense. What else would you expect from James Ellroy?
May 25, 2013
The wrap-up to Ellroy's Lloyd Hopkins trilogy winds up with Ellroy figuring out the next-to-last of the tools he needs: structuring his book around multiple protagonists and how their desires weave together to form a larger tapestry of crime and redemption.
I've got a few more of Ellroy's early books to read but from what I can tell the last, and arguably greatest, decision Ellroy makes--to eschew contemporaneousness and set all of his books forty years behind the times--is a decision made outside of his novels. But Suicide Hill only underscores the sense of the decision: Suicide Hill's handling of punk rock and music videos is hilariously out of touch with reality, the work of someone falling violently out of touch with pop culture. Although, say, the crazed Mexican nightclub/whorehouse of The Black Dahlia is undoubtedly equally absurd and barely grounded in reality, the remove of history allows Ellroy to keep his cartoonishness without losing the edge he wants. Realizing he was a man out of time and capitalizing it was one of the shrewdest moves Ellroy--arguably the shrewdest writer in American crime fiction--ever made.
The other shrewd move? Making his antagonists as tortured and desperate for redemption as his hero. Although none of the trio of bank robbers reaches anything like the depth of Ed Exley or Dave Klein or [fill in your favorite Ellroy character here), frankly, Lloyd Hopkins doesn't either. While no longer the tortured genius/embarrassing authorial stand of Blood on the Moon, Hopkins still isn't quite a fully developed character. Only near the end, when he sees in other policemen the arrogance and violence he's perpetuated, does he start to seem like the type of character would come to excel in--the haunted thug.
On the plus side, the amphetamine popping is back (after a noticeable absence in Because The Night), men scream almost as much as they did in Blood On The Moon, and every single car fishtails.
On the negative side of things, the depiction of women is terrible in this book, even by James Ellroy standards. I'd have to re-read it to be sure, but apart from a woman bank teller who maybe says one sentence before having her head blown off, every single woman in this book is motivated by both sex and money. The racism isn't nearly as bad as it usually is, but the homophobia is worse. Obviously, reading Ellroy is by definition the opposite of a politically correct experience, but again, staging the racist and xenophobic misandry against the scrim of the distant past does wonder for mitigating the bad aftertaste.
I tell myself I'll write up reviews for all the books I've read this year (and, hey, maybe I even will!) but if you're a fan of Ellroy's later work and is curious to see how it developed (and how badly it worked until it worked brilliantly), I recommend all three of the Lloyd Hopkins books.
I've got a few more of Ellroy's early books to read but from what I can tell the last, and arguably greatest, decision Ellroy makes--to eschew contemporaneousness and set all of his books forty years behind the times--is a decision made outside of his novels. But Suicide Hill only underscores the sense of the decision: Suicide Hill's handling of punk rock and music videos is hilariously out of touch with reality, the work of someone falling violently out of touch with pop culture. Although, say, the crazed Mexican nightclub/whorehouse of The Black Dahlia is undoubtedly equally absurd and barely grounded in reality, the remove of history allows Ellroy to keep his cartoonishness without losing the edge he wants. Realizing he was a man out of time and capitalizing it was one of the shrewdest moves Ellroy--arguably the shrewdest writer in American crime fiction--ever made.
The other shrewd move? Making his antagonists as tortured and desperate for redemption as his hero. Although none of the trio of bank robbers reaches anything like the depth of Ed Exley or Dave Klein or [fill in your favorite Ellroy character here), frankly, Lloyd Hopkins doesn't either. While no longer the tortured genius/embarrassing authorial stand of Blood on the Moon, Hopkins still isn't quite a fully developed character. Only near the end, when he sees in other policemen the arrogance and violence he's perpetuated, does he start to seem like the type of character would come to excel in--the haunted thug.
On the plus side, the amphetamine popping is back (after a noticeable absence in Because The Night), men scream almost as much as they did in Blood On The Moon, and every single car fishtails.
On the negative side of things, the depiction of women is terrible in this book, even by James Ellroy standards. I'd have to re-read it to be sure, but apart from a woman bank teller who maybe says one sentence before having her head blown off, every single woman in this book is motivated by both sex and money. The racism isn't nearly as bad as it usually is, but the homophobia is worse. Obviously, reading Ellroy is by definition the opposite of a politically correct experience, but again, staging the racist and xenophobic misandry against the scrim of the distant past does wonder for mitigating the bad aftertaste.
I tell myself I'll write up reviews for all the books I've read this year (and, hey, maybe I even will!) but if you're a fan of Ellroy's later work and is curious to see how it developed (and how badly it worked until it worked brilliantly), I recommend all three of the Lloyd Hopkins books.
February 23, 2023
This one was great! Finally Lloyd faces some consequences and feels like he has something to fear in his life. The killers were an interesting group and it read a lot more like the other Ellroy books I love. Would recommend. BUT would I tell people they need to read the other books first? I guess it would be important but you would be ok just reading this maybe? Honestly though I would say this trilogy is for Ellroy fans first and not a good way to get acquainted with the man and his writing. Instead go read American Tabloid.
June 20, 2025
So fuck 'em all except six, and save them for the pallbearers.
Suicide Hill marks a turning point on Ellroy's course to becoming an excellent writer. He never quite handles the cliche that is Lloyd Hopkins in a satisfying way, but it illustrates a learning experience that he needed to undergo.
Lloyd is a corrupt cop breaking the rules, breaking the law to find or eliminate criminals, playing by his own rules. It's entertaining reading, but distancing:
[Lloyd] imagined himself squeezing Likable Louie's fat neck until either his brains or three names popped out.
Driving home, [Lloyd] got his usual post-burglary shakes, followed by his usual post-B&E knowledge: crime was a thrill.
Seeing no fed units, he grabbed his forged search warrant and Ithaca pump, ran across the street and knocked on the door of the built-on house.
Still looking at the door, Lloyd knew that it meant ending the night earning McManus' "necrophile" tag, desecrating a corpse, then crawling in the dirt.
I can point to the moment, when Hopkins is assigned to work with FBI Agent Peter Kapek, as the point when Ellroy's true talent begins to emerge. While that particular character combination isn't what's striking, Kapek makes a good, if not brief, foil that seems to touch off Hopkins' one-dimensionality, perhaps forcing Ellroy to start digging deeper. Also at this point the police procedural and political machinations gain life.
The signature telegraphic rhythm, while crude, flashes briefly here: "Eating curb grass instead of dirt, he waited for machine-gun ack-ack and managed to slide Vandy's file into his pants along with his .45."
Duane Rice is a far more believable criminal, instead of a maniac arch-villain. Ellroy spends time developing Rice to the detriment of Lloyd's stunted character.
Ellroy has smoothed away annoying, repetitive 'click'-ings when pieces of the puzzle fall into place with more imagination:
Feeling his blurred focus gain another notch of clarity, Lloyd said, "Tell me about Steven Gaffaney."
Suicide Hill inherits many problems from the series so far. It clumsily projects a 50s-60s noir onto an 80s setting for a disjointed anachronism. This is a world where slang such as "scoots," "bimbos," "now dig," "bebopped," surface alongside punk rock (with uninspired lyrics: "Go down go down go down go down"), portrayed by an writer who is decidedly un-hip and uninformed (or consciously ignorant) of the culture. Fragments of impromptu lyrics for "Suicide Hill" spuriously parody Fats Domino's "Blueberry Hill."
The plot is loose. Not so much disconnected but in need of tightening and reflection. The same goes for the characters of nemesis Fred Gaffany and Lloyd Hopkins himself. It's a game of catch-up where the writing improves sharply, but it's too late to fix what's gone before.
The first half could've been tightened up, spending more time with Hopkins becoming less invincible and better rounded. Instead, Hopkins' do-gooder handling of Joe Garcia makes it impossible for him to explore any personal regrets. Hopkins fails to reflect on his own shortcomings by simply finding another way to pay penance, leaving a narrative possibility unexplored.
A small victory is the fact that Hopkins does not get knocked unconscious during the finale this time around. Instead the conclusion is a direct indictment for the shortcoming of the trilogy. Loyd's final confrontation with Gaffaney is weak. Rather than pitting two immoral moralists in a life and death struggle as promised in earlier chapters, everything crumbles. Gaffany has an uncharacteristic breakdown, and instead of either of these two monomaniacal rabid dogs being put down, they simply cower together in unearned regret.
Now that it's too late for Ellroy to rewrite the entire series, he's left to contemplate new projects dedicated to writing characters who recognize the implication of their own moral failures and the powerful and corrupt holding their position.
December 29, 2024
Just not for me. It's aggressive and brutal, which is all fine since it fits the subject & the genre, but there's just something about the way it's written that really didn't grab me; I blazed through this one so I could finish it up and move on to something else, instead of actively enjoying it. The action in the last fifth or so got nice and exciting, but it really seemed like there was too much slow buildup for that, and even though we spent the whole book with these characters, I still feel like I didn't really know them.
April 5, 2012
Mucho menos ambiciosa y compleja que las fabulosas L.A. Confidencial o La Dalia Negra, mantiene sin embargo el ambiente negro, descarnado y cruel, dibujado metódicamente con una prosa hecha de frases cortas y ajenas, y personajes fríos, patéticos y miserables, aún si notablemente inteligentes. Como en sus grandes novelas, da la impresión que Ellroy no inventa una historia sino que describe minuciosamente algo de lo que ha sido personalmente testigo. La historia es un encontronazo mortal entre un brillante detective corrupto y sociópata - y a pesar de ello, o debido a ello, un héroe entre sus pares - y un criminal agudo pero obsesionado por una prostituta en quien él se obstina en ver una futura estrella. Y la danza a ciegas entre estos penosos personajes, se desenvuelve entre muertes baratas y violentas, mientras la lucha entre el bien y el mal se diluye toda ella entre mucha, mucha sangre. Como diría Ellroy mismo, un libro para toda la familia, si su familia es la familia Manson... Muy entretenida!
June 4, 2018
This third book of the trilogy was enjoyable as I coud see Elroy's writing and plot improve so much over the first two books. Having read all his works except these three and being a big fan I was able to follow his development as a writer . Having grown up in Southern California in about the same time as he did I loved all the local references in all his writing. I could visualize every location. Still waiting for something new from him.
August 15, 2018
This here is the clear bridge from Ellroy's earlier spottier works to the first L.A. Quartet and what was to come, and in many ways I like it more than "The Black Dahlia." This one excels in the Lloyd Hopkins series for focusing more on the criminals instead of the spent title character and that the crimes and criminals don't have that quasi super-villain, credibility stretching quality that the first two Hopkins volumes had.
February 28, 2025
Another ghastly reader. Too loud, too fast.
February 20, 2023
Suicide Hill was an unexpected gem. It’s the last novel that James Ellroy wrote before the L.A. Quartet, so he’s operating at the height of his powers but without yet adopting the more high-concept and historical approach that would usher in The Black Dahlia. Instead, it’s a master craftsman honing his craft on genre, in his last book to be set in the present, which in this case means the 80s. As a result, it’s a remarkable evocation of the ways in which the classical noir of the 1940s permeated into the Los Angeles cityscape of the 1980s, halfway between the 80s realism of his earliest novels and the full-on noir pastiche that comes into its own once the L.A. Quartet gets underway.
The detail of this cityscape is also quite remarkable. I’ve read Ellroy’s memoir, My Dark Places, a couple of times, and I always take something different away with each reading. After the most recent foray, I found myself thinking constantly about Ellroy’s experience of being homeless in Los Angeles, and the intense micro-knowledge this must have given him of the city. Suicide Hill brims with that knowledge – every single scene is situated on a specific street corner, or at a particular intersection, or in front of a vividly described building, many of which are etched in such detail that they feel like they have to correspond to actual places and structures as they stood in the mid-80s.
Yet the novel never feels exactly like docudrama either, since these locations are subsumed into a 40s-80s fever dream that revolves around the Suicide Hill of the title, a 40s gangland hangout that has become the stuff of urban myth, both haunting the characters in the present who never directly experienced it, and turning out to be the inception point of the lineages of crime and trauma that consume those with a more direction connection to that older cityscape. It’s as if Ellroy had managed to take both the geographical specificities of being homeless, and the hallucinatory mindstates that he describes this as producing in My Dark Places, and translated them directly into a floating perspective on the city.
In that sense, Ellroy’s prose style feels remarkably like a camera, setting up one mise-en-scene after another for us – or focusing on his flawed characters as they try to do the same, always in imperfect and impartial ways. Like any good director, or cinematographer, the command of light, dark and colour is remarkable here, making for a novel that seems to cut between grainy black-and-white and lurid neo-noir palettes at a moment’s notice. Whereas the LA Quartet presents a 40s noir imaginary, Suicide Hill evokes that imaginary emerging from the material conditions of 80s Los Angeles, creating a potent mixture of fantasy and geography that is postmodern in a different but equally compelling way to the next four novels.
On top of all that, Suicide Hill is a great story. Impenetrable, convoluted, self-reticulating narratives are a common feature of noir, and like Raymond Chandler, Ellroy’s “high” period can be almost impossible to follow story-wise. Yet Suicide Hill strikes the perfect balance here, presenting us with a sequence of events that continually threatens to spiral out of control, and to collapse back into a conspiratorial web of La La Land power, but never quite exceeded my ability to grasp it. That makes for a remarkably tight and focused read, as well as a conclusion that packs a real emotional punch, as a series of doomed men all converge on the last stand of Ellroy’s early period – a perfect transition into his next four masterworks.
The detail of this cityscape is also quite remarkable. I’ve read Ellroy’s memoir, My Dark Places, a couple of times, and I always take something different away with each reading. After the most recent foray, I found myself thinking constantly about Ellroy’s experience of being homeless in Los Angeles, and the intense micro-knowledge this must have given him of the city. Suicide Hill brims with that knowledge – every single scene is situated on a specific street corner, or at a particular intersection, or in front of a vividly described building, many of which are etched in such detail that they feel like they have to correspond to actual places and structures as they stood in the mid-80s.
Yet the novel never feels exactly like docudrama either, since these locations are subsumed into a 40s-80s fever dream that revolves around the Suicide Hill of the title, a 40s gangland hangout that has become the stuff of urban myth, both haunting the characters in the present who never directly experienced it, and turning out to be the inception point of the lineages of crime and trauma that consume those with a more direction connection to that older cityscape. It’s as if Ellroy had managed to take both the geographical specificities of being homeless, and the hallucinatory mindstates that he describes this as producing in My Dark Places, and translated them directly into a floating perspective on the city.
In that sense, Ellroy’s prose style feels remarkably like a camera, setting up one mise-en-scene after another for us – or focusing on his flawed characters as they try to do the same, always in imperfect and impartial ways. Like any good director, or cinematographer, the command of light, dark and colour is remarkable here, making for a novel that seems to cut between grainy black-and-white and lurid neo-noir palettes at a moment’s notice. Whereas the LA Quartet presents a 40s noir imaginary, Suicide Hill evokes that imaginary emerging from the material conditions of 80s Los Angeles, creating a potent mixture of fantasy and geography that is postmodern in a different but equally compelling way to the next four novels.
On top of all that, Suicide Hill is a great story. Impenetrable, convoluted, self-reticulating narratives are a common feature of noir, and like Raymond Chandler, Ellroy’s “high” period can be almost impossible to follow story-wise. Yet Suicide Hill strikes the perfect balance here, presenting us with a sequence of events that continually threatens to spiral out of control, and to collapse back into a conspiratorial web of La La Land power, but never quite exceeded my ability to grasp it. That makes for a remarkably tight and focused read, as well as a conclusion that packs a real emotional punch, as a series of doomed men all converge on the last stand of Ellroy’s early period – a perfect transition into his next four masterworks.
March 21, 2021
In itself, this apprentice-level work of James Ellroy is fun enough. I’ve seen someone compare it to Elmore Leonard, and I can see it. There are a lot of strangely motivated characters, each off-beat in his (“his,” of course, because the women don’t really register for the younger Ellroy) own way. With Leonard, though, there’s a human-comedy element to it, an admiration for the different psyches our species can produce. With Ellroy, even here, we can see his fundamental disgust with the human animal. We’re all obvious monsters, or we’re hypocrites just hiding our monstrous elements.
And, as with Leonard, this is generally well-plotted, with a series of introduced characters getting ever more interlinked in a web that brings them all together for a final conflict.
Still, because this misses so much of Leonard’s tone, part of what I take from this is a reminder of how good Leonard could be when he was at his best. And, because this is still Ellroy-in-training, it’s also a reminder of how good Ellroy himself is when he’s at his best…which, of course, shows the rest of us at our worst.
Ellroy is special, in the end, because he turns the hardboiled tradition into something like jazz. By the time we get to most of the L.A. Quartet stuff (and I think I might have one of those still to read), and then even more so by the time of the American trilogy and now with the second L.A. Quartet, he’s found a voice that matches the bleakness of the world he depicts.
Prime Ellroy is a mixture of voices and perspectives. It does violence to the language, running on rat-a-tat-tat, and giving us a variety of different speakers and perspectives. I like to read him on the page because it all collapses into kaleidoscope, and then I like to hear it on audiobook because it’s so propulsive. (Pro-tip: there may be no better long road-trip audiobook listen than a major Ellroy.)
So, here, we get Ellroy without what makes Ellroy special. You can see the eventual voice emerging – that’s particularly true in the opening criminal report which functions as a voice different from the narrator’s.
You can also see the dark Ellroy vision emerging even as [SPOILER:] our manic, “good-guy psychopath” Lloyd Hopkins turns a bit soft at the end and pulls strings to let a “nice-guy murderer” off the hook. Satisfying as that might be, it nonetheless shows us the Ellroy classic of bad men being responsible for the history we’ve inherited.
I suspect there was something almost groundbreaking when this came out, and it does remain – for most of it – a compelling procedural. As it stands, though, don’t waste time on this one if you haven’t gotten to more serious Ellroy.
And, as with Leonard, this is generally well-plotted, with a series of introduced characters getting ever more interlinked in a web that brings them all together for a final conflict.
Still, because this misses so much of Leonard’s tone, part of what I take from this is a reminder of how good Leonard could be when he was at his best. And, because this is still Ellroy-in-training, it’s also a reminder of how good Ellroy himself is when he’s at his best…which, of course, shows the rest of us at our worst.
Ellroy is special, in the end, because he turns the hardboiled tradition into something like jazz. By the time we get to most of the L.A. Quartet stuff (and I think I might have one of those still to read), and then even more so by the time of the American trilogy and now with the second L.A. Quartet, he’s found a voice that matches the bleakness of the world he depicts.
Prime Ellroy is a mixture of voices and perspectives. It does violence to the language, running on rat-a-tat-tat, and giving us a variety of different speakers and perspectives. I like to read him on the page because it all collapses into kaleidoscope, and then I like to hear it on audiobook because it’s so propulsive. (Pro-tip: there may be no better long road-trip audiobook listen than a major Ellroy.)
So, here, we get Ellroy without what makes Ellroy special. You can see the eventual voice emerging – that’s particularly true in the opening criminal report which functions as a voice different from the narrator’s.
You can also see the dark Ellroy vision emerging even as [SPOILER:] our manic, “good-guy psychopath” Lloyd Hopkins turns a bit soft at the end and pulls strings to let a “nice-guy murderer” off the hook. Satisfying as that might be, it nonetheless shows us the Ellroy classic of bad men being responsible for the history we’ve inherited.
I suspect there was something almost groundbreaking when this came out, and it does remain – for most of it – a compelling procedural. As it stands, though, don’t waste time on this one if you haven’t gotten to more serious Ellroy.
May 6, 2024
"And my death was a thrill, on suicide hill"
Oh yeah, this is where the rubber meets the road for Ellroy. Where all of his talent begins to show and where Lloyd Hopkins justifies himself as a classic detective character.
The amount of growth Elroy shows from Because the Night to Suicide Hill is astounding. While I did enjoy Brown's Requiem and Clandestine, the first two Hopkins books were decidedly uneven and, until I read Suicide Hill, unnecessary.
SH changed all that. Hitting the ground running with a tense and atmospheric introduction of The book's main villain, we don't even get to meet Hopkins until almost 40 pages into the book. The character work is also much more well-rounded than the previous two novels. Hopkins finally SHOWS why he is a hotshot detective that the boss have to tolerate, and the trio of antagonists all have fairly complex and deep pathologies, while also showing hidden depths and the capacity for change. It takes quite a bit of effort to generate sympathy for a character whose primary character tic is to hum the Jaws theme as he chases after women, but by the end he is redeemed and sympathized. It's an incredible piece of work.
The prose isn't quite as dynamic or engaging as future Ellroy novels, but it does still have plenty of interesting turns of phrase and shows his talent as a wordsmith. There's one particular passage, that I won't fully quote since it's fairly graphic, but shows that particular talent of his where it is a seemingly crass declaration, but actually says more about society and particularly men's views of women than not. I've been thinking about it constantly.
Perhaps it was the lowered expectations set by the first two novels, but suicide Hill delivers the goods and is worthy of inclusion with Ellroy's canonical works. Also, it heightens the previous two novels by incorporating themes from them into the conclusion. It is very much worth a read for even a casual fan of the demon dog
4.5/5
Oh yeah, this is where the rubber meets the road for Ellroy. Where all of his talent begins to show and where Lloyd Hopkins justifies himself as a classic detective character.
The amount of growth Elroy shows from Because the Night to Suicide Hill is astounding. While I did enjoy Brown's Requiem and Clandestine, the first two Hopkins books were decidedly uneven and, until I read Suicide Hill, unnecessary.
SH changed all that. Hitting the ground running with a tense and atmospheric introduction of The book's main villain, we don't even get to meet Hopkins until almost 40 pages into the book. The character work is also much more well-rounded than the previous two novels. Hopkins finally SHOWS why he is a hotshot detective that the boss have to tolerate, and the trio of antagonists all have fairly complex and deep pathologies, while also showing hidden depths and the capacity for change. It takes quite a bit of effort to generate sympathy for a character whose primary character tic is to hum the Jaws theme as he chases after women, but by the end he is redeemed and sympathized. It's an incredible piece of work.
The prose isn't quite as dynamic or engaging as future Ellroy novels, but it does still have plenty of interesting turns of phrase and shows his talent as a wordsmith. There's one particular passage, that I won't fully quote since it's fairly graphic, but shows that particular talent of his where it is a seemingly crass declaration, but actually says more about society and particularly men's views of women than not. I've been thinking about it constantly.
Perhaps it was the lowered expectations set by the first two novels, but suicide Hill delivers the goods and is worthy of inclusion with Ellroy's canonical works. Also, it heightens the previous two novels by incorporating themes from them into the conclusion. It is very much worth a read for even a casual fan of the demon dog
4.5/5
June 4, 2025
Ooooh yeah. While Clandestine is good and gains a lot once you realize how autobiographical it is, Suicide Hill is really where Ellroy starts to shine.
I read SH during my initial Ellroy-binge and loved it. The first two Hopkins novels are simply okay, but SH is so good that it retroactively makes them better by association; that reading them was the necessary medicine to get to the dessert of Suicide Hill.
A reread (of a signed copy!) a year and change later confirms what I thought. SH is prime Ellroy and where he really finds his footing as a writer. Hot-Dog cop Lloyd Hopkins becomes vulnerable and human as he runs himself ragged on a suicide run to try to catch a charismatic but unstable car thief turned heist man. The supporting characters become fleshed out and memorable, with the Garcias being equally repulsive and sympathetic. The stakes and bureaucratic drama ramping up in proportion to the stakes.
The prose is something I didn't pick up on during the first read. I think it's because I read Suicide Hill last. That's not last in the Lloyd Hopkins books, but out of Ellroy's entire bibliography. I was used to the rhythm and vocabulary Ellroy uses and how good it could be. I didn't realize that this is where that style crystalized, and SH is an addictively readable book as a result. I devoured it in a few sittings on my first reading, and did it again here.
In short, this is an early masterpiece for the Dog, and a great preview of his great career.
I read SH during my initial Ellroy-binge and loved it. The first two Hopkins novels are simply okay, but SH is so good that it retroactively makes them better by association; that reading them was the necessary medicine to get to the dessert of Suicide Hill.
A reread (of a signed copy!) a year and change later confirms what I thought. SH is prime Ellroy and where he really finds his footing as a writer. Hot-Dog cop Lloyd Hopkins becomes vulnerable and human as he runs himself ragged on a suicide run to try to catch a charismatic but unstable car thief turned heist man. The supporting characters become fleshed out and memorable, with the Garcias being equally repulsive and sympathetic. The stakes and bureaucratic drama ramping up in proportion to the stakes.
The prose is something I didn't pick up on during the first read. I think it's because I read Suicide Hill last. That's not last in the Lloyd Hopkins books, but out of Ellroy's entire bibliography. I was used to the rhythm and vocabulary Ellroy uses and how good it could be. I didn't realize that this is where that style crystalized, and SH is an addictively readable book as a result. I devoured it in a few sittings on my first reading, and did it again here.
In short, this is an early masterpiece for the Dog, and a great preview of his great career.
December 16, 2020
I’m conflicted about this book. I feel like I want to like Ellroy the writer more then I actually do. This book encapsulates this idea. I first came to Ellroy via L.A. Confidential - first the move then the book. Both are masterpieces. One of my favourite movies and an even better, sooo much richer book. This book was never going to reach those heights and I feel like that fact hung over this book. I tried reading it and found it confusing but then I caught on that there are three separate and obviously destined to converge storylines. The trouble is no one is likeable or memorable in any storyline and I kept struggling to care. I left the book and came back twice. I’m genuinely interested in the mystery but indifferent to the characters. Finally I gave up. I didn’t finish the book.
I gave the book 3 stars because it is well written, I’m not suggesting Elroy can’t write because he is terrific. Also I was listening to an audio book vs. physically reading and I felt like this was a detriment here. I didn’t love the narration from the get go but also I track a book better when I physically read. I feel like that would have helped draw me in here. I would give this book another shot if I could physically read it. Not enough to buy but if track down a library version.
I gave the book 3 stars because it is well written, I’m not suggesting Elroy can’t write because he is terrific. Also I was listening to an audio book vs. physically reading and I felt like this was a detriment here. I didn’t love the narration from the get go but also I track a book better when I physically read. I feel like that would have helped draw me in here. I would give this book another shot if I could physically read it. Not enough to buy but if track down a library version.
March 28, 2025
Another tough and very violent cops & robbers story by James Ellroy. Well written and compelling, witty and striking if you like. A bit too much graphic violence though.
I can actually quote an earlier evaluation I wrote about another Ellroy's novel:
"Well written, obviously, but also realistic in many ways. People weren't flawless and their motives weren't always (if ever) pure. There was hate, fear, greed, selfishness... all mortal sins were present as they are in real life."
That was very much true with this one too. Officer Lloyd Hopkins was not a nice guy and he stretched the law and the rules of police work almost however he felt necessary.
Being almost a psychopath he worked on the darker edge of the gray area - but being also a very intelligent person, gained results. The best detective on the violent crime unit. But not entirely sane.
Some of the bosses loved him, some others hated.
A captivating run trough Los Angeles, hunting criminals who were as insane and violent as the hunters.
Fast to read and perhaps a bit less complex than many other Ellroy's crime novels.
Suicide Hill
LIKE 2009
I can actually quote an earlier evaluation I wrote about another Ellroy's novel:
"Well written, obviously, but also realistic in many ways. People weren't flawless and their motives weren't always (if ever) pure. There was hate, fear, greed, selfishness... all mortal sins were present as they are in real life."
That was very much true with this one too. Officer Lloyd Hopkins was not a nice guy and he stretched the law and the rules of police work almost however he felt necessary.
Being almost a psychopath he worked on the darker edge of the gray area - but being also a very intelligent person, gained results. The best detective on the violent crime unit. But not entirely sane.
Some of the bosses loved him, some others hated.
A captivating run trough Los Angeles, hunting criminals who were as insane and violent as the hunters.
Fast to read and perhaps a bit less complex than many other Ellroy's crime novels.
Suicide Hill
LIKE 2009
July 18, 2021
This is the third installment in the Lloyd Hopkins trilogy (also available collected under the title L.A. Noir) and to me is the weakest of the three, which is not to say it isn't worth reading, it's just not as good as the other two. The plot is unusually convoluted with a cast of characters it's hard to care about, and the focus of the drama shifts repeatedly, culminating with a bizarre show-down between Hopkins and Captain Gaffaney for which there is not sufficient narrative groundwork laid (it's there, but it comes late and rushed, like an afterthought or late edit). Ellroy does a superior job of displaying the moral no-man's-land frequently occupied by law enforcement personnel, but he is less convincing in his seeming efforts to get the reader to view Hopkins as a dark knight-errant instead of just an insanely corrupt criminal genius.
July 20, 2024
I got into James Ellroy quite some time ago with standouts, The Black Dahlia, LA Confidential and Blood on the Moon, but others were good, too. I lost interest, for no good reason, after reading American Tabloid, that I enjoyed greatly. I picked up Suicide Hill, that had been lying around the house for some years and re-engaged, a bit. It is interesting as you can see how he is evolving from conventional narratives to his staccato writing in the later works. However, it is just very thin and with little point. The knowledge that this is the third of the Lloyd Hopkins trilogy, gives it a doom-laden quality, but also a sense of exhaustion with a character who, apart from being a great detecting cop, violent and out of the control of LAPD, is really not very well drawn. At times, it feels more like text for a graphic novel, but without the depth.
April 3, 2025
I picked up this James Ellroy bad boy second hand in California last summer and despite the lapse in time, it did not disappoint.
Ellroy's script is always fast paced and on the darker side of noir with questionable characters on both sides of the law.
Suicide Hill followed this trait and is centred around Detective Sergeant Lloyd Hopkins (a well known Ellroy character). He is a brilliant but disturbed detective with a keen moral compass yet on the edge of being tossed off the force and estranged from his wife and three daughters. He is striving to deal with this while chasing down three gun tooting bank robbers, on the run leaving a bloody trail in their wake.
Ellroy is at the peak of his power in this novel building up to a tense climax for the morally suspect, flawed characters on show.
Ellroy's script is always fast paced and on the darker side of noir with questionable characters on both sides of the law.
Suicide Hill followed this trait and is centred around Detective Sergeant Lloyd Hopkins (a well known Ellroy character). He is a brilliant but disturbed detective with a keen moral compass yet on the edge of being tossed off the force and estranged from his wife and three daughters. He is striving to deal with this while chasing down three gun tooting bank robbers, on the run leaving a bloody trail in their wake.
Ellroy is at the peak of his power in this novel building up to a tense climax for the morally suspect, flawed characters on show.
October 10, 2019
In "Suicide Hill" (1986), James Ellroy is still feeling his way toward the staccato, connect-the-dots style that marks his later, better-known period noir works, such as "L.A. Confidential" and "American Tabloid." Billed as "A Sgt. Lloyd Hopkins Novel of Suspense," it's the finale in a trilogy starring a brilliant but morally casual police investigator with decided emotional, sexual and violence issues. I mean, crooks and other cops all call him "Crazy Lloyd Hopkins." Yeah. In this one, he tries to solve a couple of bank robberies. While trying to save his job. And fix his broken marriage. The usual stuff. It's better than the previous Hopkins novel, the tedious "Because the Night," and more accessible than Ellroy's later stuff, but still florid and overwrought, and the patter -- cops are "pigs" and "fuzz" and women are "bimbos" -- often seems more trite than snappy. For hardcore Ellroy fans only.
September 12, 2020
I suppose this achieves Ellroy's intent, so 5 stars. Tho I'm afraid I can't articulate what that intent is. If I understood people in general better ...
(One honest way to end that sentence is: ... then I wouldn't suspect I'm on the Asperger's spectrum.)
Among other pieces, I did admire the Confession scene. Having given the penance he did in the form he gave it, that priest would surely figure--as I always do--that the Holy Spirit has a gloriously weird sense of humor.
Since everybody says the L.A. Quartet is better--most, even better--than these first three, I've put a hold on The Black Dahlia for next month.
(One honest way to end that sentence is: ... then I wouldn't suspect I'm on the Asperger's spectrum.)
Among other pieces, I did admire the Confession scene. Having given the penance he did in the form he gave it, that priest would surely figure--as I always do--that the Holy Spirit has a gloriously weird sense of humor.
Since everybody says the L.A. Quartet is better--most, even better--than these first three, I've put a hold on The Black Dahlia for next month.
Read
March 15, 2024Context: I haven't read the first two Lloyd Hopkins mysteries. I've read a ton of Ellroy, though, and was surprised how "mature" the narrative felt here. I expect more like Brown's Requiem, but most of the hallmarks of classic Ellroy are here. I spent most of the novel enthralled and impressed - in spite of myself, as it almost always is with this author. Such a compelling storyteller with a precision control of language. Ellroy sets up a novel with a nearly unparalleled skill level.
That ending though. Woof. Swings for the fences and hits himself on the ass. None of the resonance and gravitas Ellroy aims for is successful and it's a big disappointment.
Looking grudgingly forward to reading American Tabloid soon.
That ending though. Woof. Swings for the fences and hits himself on the ass. None of the resonance and gravitas Ellroy aims for is successful and it's a big disappointment.
Looking grudgingly forward to reading American Tabloid soon.
August 31, 2023
James Ellroy no debe ser un tipo fácil y por eso sus libros no son fáciles, empiezan suavemente y según avanza la historia todo se complica y nos salpican sangre, vísceras y demás.
Aquí hay corrupción policial, robos, asesinatos, pornografía, drogas y, seguro que me dejo algo. Lo que podían ser unos atracos se acaba convirtiendo en una orgia de sangre y una huida hacia adelante del protagonista y en el otro lado está el Sargento Hopkins con sus demonios interiores.
Novela negra tipo años 80 que es la época en que se desarrolla, con un buen conocimiento de Hollywood y sus bajos fondos y una violencia sin esconder la crueldad que lleva dentro.
Aquí hay corrupción policial, robos, asesinatos, pornografía, drogas y, seguro que me dejo algo. Lo que podían ser unos atracos se acaba convirtiendo en una orgia de sangre y una huida hacia adelante del protagonista y en el otro lado está el Sargento Hopkins con sus demonios interiores.
Novela negra tipo años 80 que es la época en que se desarrolla, con un buen conocimiento de Hollywood y sus bajos fondos y una violencia sin esconder la crueldad que lleva dentro.
August 27, 2020
Der dritte und letzte Band der Lloyd Hopkins-Trilogie schwankt im Verlauf qualitativ hin und her. Den Part mit dem Banküberfall bzw. die anschliessende Menschenjagd fand ich sehr intensiv und toll zu lesen. Leider sind andere Teile eher zäh. Zudem wird es irgendwann schwierig zu folgen, wie Lloyd und andere Polizisten ihre echten Ermittlungen und Taten mit falschen Berichten und Plänen überdecken, um dem Gesetz "auf die Sprünge" zu helfen.
Was mich diesmal auch ziemlich störte, war die altbackene Übersetzung. Wahrscheinlich ist das eine Buchreihe, die man lieber im Original lesen sollte.
Was mich diesmal auch ziemlich störte, war die altbackene Übersetzung. Wahrscheinlich ist das eine Buchreihe, die man lieber im Original lesen sollte.
January 22, 2025
Very much a 1dollar detective novel you pick up and put down. Not sure there was a single well written female character in the entire book. Paints a very lurid picture of decaying Hollywood that is compelling. It was also a little more intriguing than expected, with a not exactly uncritical look at toxic masculinity (or at least that's how it reads to me now) with no goodies, no baddies everyone damned...or to quote the book: Rice walked out wandering if the world was nothing but wimps, pimps, psychos and sex fiends.
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