"With his classic novels and stories featuring the hardboiled private detective Philip Marlowe, Raymond Chandler transformed the detective story and became one of the most iconic and imitated writers of the twentieth century. But despite the fame he attained through best-selling books such as The Big Sleep and The Long Goodbye, as well as the screenplay for such groundbreaking film noir as Double Indemnity, he remained an intensely private man throughout his life. As he lived a quiet existence darkened by his wife's recurring illnesses and his struggles with alcoholism, Chandler's letters were his sole connection to his friends, fans and publishers - and fellow writers from Ian Fleming to Somerset Maugham." "In The Raymond Chandler Papers, Chandler biographers Tom Hiney and Frank MacShane bring together a new selection of his correspondence - much of it never before made public - that reveals all aspects of his powerful personality, artistic sensibility, and broad intellectual curiosity."--BOOK JACKET.
Raymond Thornton Chandler was an American-British novelist and screenwriter. In 1932, at the age of forty-four, Chandler became a detective fiction writer after losing his job as an oil company executive during the Great Depression. His first short story, "Blackmailers Don't Shoot", was published in 1933 in Black Mask, a popular pulp magazine. His first novel, The Big Sleep, was published in 1939. In addition to his short stories, Chandler published seven novels during his lifetime (an eighth, in progress at the time of his death, was completed by Robert B. Parker). All but Playback have been made into motion pictures, some more than once. In the year before his death, he was elected president of the Mystery Writers of America. Chandler had an immense stylistic influence on American popular literature. He is a founder of the hardboiled school of detective fiction, along with Dashiell Hammett, James M. Cain and other Black Mask writers. The protagonist of his novels, Philip Marlowe, like Hammett's Sam Spade, is considered by some to be synonymous with "private detective". Both were played in films by Humphrey Bogart, whom many consider to be the quintessential Marlowe. The Big Sleep placed second on the Crime Writers Association poll of the 100 best crime novels; Farewell, My Lovely (1940), The Lady in the Lake (1943) and The Long Goodbye (1953) also made the list. The latter novel was praised in an anthology of American crime stories as "arguably the first book since Hammett's The Glass Key, published more than twenty years earlier, to qualify as a serious and significant mainstream novel that just happened to possess elements of mystery". Chandler was also a perceptive critic of detective fiction; his "The Simple Art of Murder" is the canonical essay in the field. In it he wrote: "Down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. The detective must be a complete man and a common man and yet an unusual man. He must be, to use a rather weathered phrase, a man of honor—by instinct, by inevitability, without thought of it, and certainly without saying it. He must be the best man in his world and a good enough man for any world." Parker wrote that, with Marlowe, "Chandler seems to have created the culminating American hero: wised up, hopeful, thoughtful, adventurous, sentimental, cynical and rebellious—an innocent who knows better, a Romantic who is tough enough to sustain Romanticism in a world that has seen the eternal footman hold its coat and snicker. Living at the end of the Far West, where the American dream ran out of room, no hero has ever been more congruent with his landscape. Chandler had the right hero in the right place, and engaged him in the consideration of good and evil at precisely the time when our central certainty of good no longer held."
Read all of Chandler's short stories, novels, essays and letters back in the 1970s and thought they were great. Chandler was one of a kind and one of the best.
This was a wonderful collection of writing, mostly personal letters. Chandler had such a dry wit and was a self-described intellectual snob. He could also be incredibly humble and self-effacing. One can see which parts of him shine through in Marlowe.
I loved reading his thoughts on language, American and British culture, the writing process, the publishing business, and his contemporaries--namely Hammet and Cain. The end of the book is kind of sad; Chandler's wife of 30 years had a protracted illness and death, he attempts suicide. Although he seemed lost and terribly lonely late in life, you could see a glimmer of inspiration on the thought of writing another Marlowe novel in the last letters before his death.
I'd recommend this to Chandler devotees, fans of hardboiled fiction--heck, fans of the English language.
Chandler's letters are fun to read, but they reminded me of listening to the drunk at the end of the bar pontificate - no matter how funny and charming he is, after about an hour you start eyeing the exits. Chandler had lots of opinions, and there were many times where I felt he was just trolling people to get a rise out of them, which gets fatiguing. He doesn't seem to have had any close friends, so the letters are breezy and superficial (with the exception of responses to fan mail from random readers, which he wrote with care and respect). His mask drops in the later letters, after his wife dies and he is lonely and vulnerable, and you realize how much armor he had been putting up in his previous letters. But I didn't feel I got much insight into the man, which is probably exactly the way Chandler would have wanted it.
Chandler is antisocial, a curmudgeon, powerful, sensitive, entertaining, and these personality traits are abundent in his letters, nonfiction, and personal relationships.
What stood out most to me is Chandler's intelligence and high integrity when he engaged with and stood up to studios, publishers, writers, and everyone else. These high standards, I believe, sometimes led to his loneliness, rootlessness, and drinking.
I loved that he and I are on the same page concerning writing and writers, particularly his respect for Orwell, Somerset Maugham, Fitzgerald, and Dashiell Hammett. Although, Chandler has plenty of criticism for everyone.
This is an insightful and entertaining delve into a brilliant writer's mind.
Having heard a number of amusing quotes and stories from and about Raymond Chandler, I got into this a good deal. What follows is a selection from his letters that caught my eye on this reading.
"Some [book] titles, not many, have a particular magic which impresses itself on the memory. I guess we would all like to have them, but we can't very often achieve them, and certainly not by trying."
"I have never had any great respect for the ability of editors [&] publishers ... to guess what the public will like. The record is all against them. I have always tried to put myself in the shoes of the ultimate consumer, the reader, and ignore the middleman"
"It is an awful thing to admire a man's book and then meet him." Raymond Chandler
"Words and sentences I did not write at all, dialogue I would not spew, and lacunae that are comparable to amnesia on one's honeymoon." Raymond Chandler (responding to being serialized in a magazine)
"I am one of those people who have to be known exactly the right amount to be liked. I am standoffish with strangers, a form of shyness which whisky cured when I was still able to take it in the requisite quantities."
"I am terribly blunt, having been raised in the English tradition which permits a gentleman to be almost infinitely rude if he keeps his voice down. It depends on a complete assurance that a punch on the nose will not be the reply."
"A man of 50 is not young, not old, not even middle-aged. His wind has gone & his dignity has not yet arrived. To the young he is already old and stodgy. To the really old he is fat and pompous and greedy. He is a mere convenience to bankers and tax collectors." Raymond Chandler
"Business is very tough and I hate it. But whatever you set out to do, you have to do as well as you know how."
"One of the worst menaces to any real justice is the big-time newspaper columnist. They are out to create a sensation at whatever the cost; they care nothing about the fate of the people they attack."
"Please don't praise the book; sell it!" Chandler to his publicist.
"The women you get and the women you don't get - they live in different worlds. I don't sneer at either world. I live in both myself."
"Since I am on an alcohol free diet, my mind seems to lack a little or a lot of its exuberance. I don't miss it physically at all, but I do miss it mentally and spiritually."
Another reviewer says Chandler seems to have been a miserable guy - I think that's unfair but I can see where he would get that impression, because the letters (etc.) get more miserable towards the end. But that's natural isn't it? Friends are dying, your beloved wife suffers an extremely prolonged and ultimately fatal decline, and once that's over you're all but worn out - what's to like?
These letters are mostly fun to read, because Chandler was a skilled writer - he dictated his letters to a dictaphone and had them typed up, and no doubt he was in part practising his craft in writing them, as well as engaging in friendships, which he generally seems to have found more enjoyable in correspondence form rather than in hanging out with the guys - and because, it being private correspondence, he wrote what he felt like writing, rather than sucking up or playing safe. Not that these are vicious writings, at all, just a normal mixed bag of perceptions, experiences, opinions, doubts, speculations, ideas - but they are of interest because they come from a great writer, if not necessarily a great thinker. It's not even that the thoughts are particularly profound, so much as it's a chance to see what kind of a person turned out those novels. It's striking that Chandler, though he never says so, felt he shared the values and even in a way the tragic destiny and perhaps some of the character of Marlowe, which you could sum up as a man of honour and wit trying to keep both alive in a pitifully corrupt and tawdry world. He would have loved the 21st century...
The good segments of this book are really, really great -- like his pissing match with Alfred Hitchcock, and his thoughts of detective stories. It's funny in parts, and we get great insights into an under-appreciated intellect. There are broad sections that are mundane -- which should be expected in a volume of letters. The nonfiction mentioned in the title is almost non-existent.
Intento aplicar que lo estoy leyendo, pero tristemente no lo consigo., Con respecto a las cartas de Raymond solo puedo decir que es ingenioso, transgresor y tan sencible como insensible y adorna cada palabra con una picante y dulce ironía.
I don't how he managed to drink so much and remain clear-headed enough to write these cared-for and insight-heavy letters. I don't know how, but it doesn't matter. They exist and that's enough for me. Here's a thing he wrote that I thought stood out among an outstanding collection of literary wisdom and aphorism:
. . .it doesn't matter a damn what a novel is about, that the only fiction of any moment in any age is that which does magic with words, and the the subject matter is merley the springboard for the writer's imagination.
Maybe I should have given this 5 stars, but I was a little disappointed by how many of the letters in this volume were also in Raymond Chandler Speaking. It's been a while since I read The Collected Letters but I think there's also some overlap with that. A bit of a let down since the book doesn't include more of Chandler's essays, especially The Simple Art of Murder. But there's great writing throughout and I'm glad I read it.
A decent selection of Chandler's letters, with occasional prose interspersed. Not much else to say, really. This is essentially the earlier MacShane selection, but mercifully better curated/selected. If you've already looked through the MacShane, there's nothing (really) new here. Chandler goes on and on about cats and books.
Dissatisfaction seemed to be a major element of his life. Maybe it was due to his classic European education and how that background hit hard against the American way of life or the American system. His observations about this country were extremely perceptive, but they were no more than a tiny wave in an ocean of difference.
Chandler made me fall in love with Los Angeles, with detective noir and - ultimately - with his heart. When he writes about the death of his wife, I cried as if hearing about the death of someone I actually knew. THAT is the level of mastery that every writer should aspire to reach.
This guy was neighbours with Dr. Seuss and there was a fox that they would chase after.
I think a lot about his letter criticizing science fiction. The funny thing is that it's an extreme case of projection. Read the letter and tell me he's not describing the plot of The Big Sleep.
This was a very lucky find at the local book exchange. While it has been many years since I read a novel by Raymond Chandler, I have fond memories of devouring them the summer I graduated from college. This book collects selections from Chandler's letters, as well as a few other bits (bad early poetry, even, but fortunately very little of that) and I found it a pleasure to read. I learned a good deal about Chandler's life and thoughts--his having grown up largely in Ireland, his admiration for Saki and interest in languages, his opinions about various other writers, his love of wife and cat--and some of his thoughts about writing. The letters are a treat and well curated.