Nothing More Than Murder (Jim Thompson, 1949)

This one isn't particularly interested in the actual criminal act or the prior plotting that led to it. This is just as well since the bad guys' plan is pretty pathetic. Good old double indemnity insurance scam with a bit of a (silly) twist. The wife catches our hero Joe cheating, and then the trio together decides to resolve this unfortunate situation by faking her death and collecting the insurance money to pay her off so Joe and Carol can live and fuck happily ever after. And the silly twist? They manage to get the "replacement" body by simply placing an advert in a local newspaper seeking a woman who physically resembles Elizabeth (she would die in the fire, burned beyond recognition, so her body/face isn't significant).

Of course, with such an amateurish (stupid?) plan, it is only a question of when and not if they will get caught. It's also a question of who will blow up the whole setup, since Joe soon finds himself blackmailed by a couple of local scumbags, investigated by the insurance company PI. At the same time, his accomplice/lover gets increasingly distrustful (and unpredictable). And if all that wasn't bad enough, he's also in the middle of a fight against his movie theatre's (very hostile) takeover.

And this is where the novel's brilliance comes in. Joe is somewhat like Sheriff Nick Corey from Pop. 1280 - a manipulator who constantly schemes to get his way out of trouble. So, instead of a classical whodunnit, the suspense here is about guessing how he'll manage to untangle the messy web he got himself caught in. And although he's a bit of an asshole (but then again, the whole cast consists of assholes), he's still likeable and even honest in his own way, so I must admit I was kind of cheering for him.

Excellent stuff, and even though this is very early Thompson (his first "proper" crime genre novel), it is put together masterfully. Snappy dialogues, superb characterisation of the main protagonist (I am sure that others are intentionally neglected), great storytelling with some flashbacks thrown in, and just enough psychological depth to keep it interesting, even though the plotting is not very strong. It simply works. Everything clicks as it should.

And I cannot finish this writing without mentioning the small-town mentality and seedy movie theatres and film distribution industry milieu into which the story is set. Amusing stuff that creates a good atmosphere and gives the story a realistic and authentic tone. Too bad that "Glossary of exhibitor terms" is at the end and not at the beginning of the book. I was a bit confused at first when coming upon terms like "dark" (not in operation; a dark house), "product" (pictures) and "paper" (advertising matter). However, it wasn't too distracting, and it eventually became cool once I got used to the slang.

Maybe a bit too light and naive for my taste  (I saw that ending twist coming way too soon), but it didn't really matter. Enjoyed it a lot.

4.5/5

Facts:

Hero: 
According to a local newspaper, "Joseph J. Wilmot, local theatre magnate".

Location: 
An imaginary small town of Stoneville. At least, I think it doesn't exist, since I couldn't find one on Google Maps that would be "an hour driving from the City" or "thirty miles from Wheat City".

Body count: 
2, possibly another one since I'm not sure how to interpret "I caught him right in the act of slugging Jimmie Nedry".

Dames: 
I'd thought she looked awkward and top-heavy, and, hell, I could see now that she didn't at all. Her breasts weren't too big. Jesus, her breasts!
She looked cute-mad and funny-sweet. She looked like she'd started somewhere and been mussed up along the way.
She was a honey. She was sugar and pie. She was a bitch. [Fatale]

Blackouts: 
The whiskey never reached my mouth. I couldn't get it that high. It trickled out on my shirt front, and then the bottle dropped from my hand to the floor. And I followed it.
 

Title: 
Cool sounding. It probably refers to a trivial and oversimplistic plan that our murderous trio puts together.

Edition: Black Lizard 1985

Cover: 
Nice, old-school type of illustration. Made by a guy named Kirwan, who apparently created covers for all of the Black Lizard's classic reissues. And they all look great!

Notable cover blurbs: 
"Jim Thompson is the best suspense writer going, bar none."
- New York Times

Not that I disagree, but still, it seems strange that they would regard him as a "writer going" seven years after his death.

Cool lines:  
She smiled, kind of like an elevator boy smiles when you ask him if he has lots of ups and downs.

Pop. 1280 (Jim Thompson, 1964)

Straightforward story about a local sheriff of some godforsaken Texas hillbilly county. A simple-minded dude with simple problems concerning women, trying hard to be re-elected since being a local law enforcer is about the only thing in the world he feels he knows how to handle. See "cool lines" below and you'll get the picture.

Of course, it's not as simple as that. Although incredibly entertaining and easy to read and follow, Pop. 1280 is anything but a simple read. The story is quite complex, involving numerous characters and events that ultimately lead to a significant decrease in the initial population by the end. Plotting is superb, and tension build-up, together with the final twist, are good enough alone for the highest grade this total masterpiece gets from me.

But the real story and detective challenge (for the reader) takes place inside Nick's head. Who the hell is this guy? At the beginning, he's just a simplistic, clueless and almost retarded asshole driven by the desire to be re-elected. As the first bodies start to emerge, we realise that he's not exactly harmless, but he's almost cute, and in a way, we still find ourselves sympathetic towards him. At least I was, maybe because of his hilariously cunning scheming, or his incredible (ab)use of grammar, or simply his questionable luck with women. But there's just so much that man can take, and it becomes more and more clear that our main man is not exactly right in his head.

And this, for me, is the novel's main appeal - was he crazy all along or did something finally push him over the edge? We will get the answer, and it will be a creepy one. Also, an unexpected one, I couldn't see it coming at all.

Pottsville definitely deserves a few words. Cesspool of humanity it is, without a single likeable character around. Liars, cheaters, wife beaters, misogynists, people fucking their relatives (kids not excluded), nymphomaniacs, mentally retarded, simply mean, greedy and ignorant hillbillies (I caught him reading a book!) and most of them total racists. Racism is one of the prevailing themes and Thompson uses it as a tool to emphasize storytelling, sometimes even its humorous parts - I giggled at the scene when Nick spreads around the rumor that his election competitor Sam has "raped a little two year old nigger baby" but stuff like "niggers shouldn't be counted as a regular population since they have no souls" just makes you speechless and leaves you sad. No wonder Nick went a bit crazy in such an environment.

Cool thing - and another touch of maestro - is that Pottsville doesn't really feel like some big ass metaphor for America's little towns. At least not at the beginning, that is. I had the impression that Thompson simply enjoyed inventing these oddballs and playing with them. However, as the story progresses and darkens, it becomes increasingly clear that the author is a pessimist, suggesting that the only way out of this state of decay (Pottsville) is to become as insane (or religious) as the people living there. To put it into Nick's words: "There can't be no personal hell because there ain't no personal sins. They are all public."

This is unforgettable stuff; it should be made mandatory reading in primary schools.

5/5

Facts:

Hero: 
Sheriff Nick Corey

Location:
Pottsville, 47th largest county of the state (of Texas, I assume)

Body count: 6

Dames: 
His mean, bitchy wife, Myra, plus mistresses Rose and Amy

Blackouts: 

/

Title: 
Pottsville has a population of 1280. But it could also be titled Pop. 1274...

Cover: 
The Orion edition's cover is hardly worth commenting on. I'm also including an older cover that I find interesting because it attempts to market this dark masterpiece as a light-hearted western comedy. Although when looking at the guy's facial expression long enough, you'll see a glimpse of psychotic tendencies in his eyes.

Cool lines:  
"Me?" I said. "I do my job all the time."
"You! You stupid silly spineless fool! You don't do anything!"
"Well, that's my job," I said. "Not doing nothing. I mean. That's why people elect me."

What I loved was myself, and I was willing to do anything I god-danged had to to go on lying and cheating and drinking whiskey and screwing women and going to church on Sunday with all the other respectable people.[The Coolest!]


"Can't very well run a town without one, right, Buck?"
"Right! Why if they wasn't any whores, the decent ladies wouldn't be safe on the streets."
"Kee-reck!"  Ken nodded. "Fellas would get all full of piss an' high spirits and take right off after 'em."

"The next time they even look like they're goin' to sass you, you just kick 'em in the balls as hard as you can."
"Huh?" I said. "But - but don't it hurt awful bad?"
"Pshaw, 'course it don't hurt. Not if you're wearin' a good pair o' boots without no holes in 'em."
"That's right," Buck said. "You just be sure you ain't got any toes stickin' out and it won't hurt you a-tall."

The Rip-Off (Jim Thompson, 1985)

Legendary Jim Thompson finally gets his debut and long-overdue entry on this blog. The Rip-Off was his last book, published posthumously eight years after his death. I did some googling, but I'm still not sure whether it's supposed to be one of those luckily lost & found "masterpieces" or if it was simply the case that the author wasn't satisfied enough with the finished product and had decided not to publish it at all. Unfortunately, I'm inclined to think that the latter was the case, especially since he was "rediscovered" in the 80s, and publishers probably just wanted to cash in on some of that new and fresh fame.

The story is a bit silly with more than just a single plot hole and some hard-to-swallow coincidences, but it's still okay. It's centred around this quasi-intellectual guy, Britt Rainstar, whose life gets turned upside down when he accepts a pretty odd writing job from a mysterious and beautiful executive, Manuela Aloe. A series of bizarre (and life-threatening) events starts to unfold, and Thompson skilfully mixes them with Britt's background story about his bitchy blackmailing wife and her greedy redneck father. There are some cool twists towards the end, and the final revelation is kind of surprising.

Writing is as good as one would expect from an old-school master with 20+ masterpieces under his belt. Characters are decent and believable enough most of the time. Especially our leading hero, and maybe not so much about his two female companions. I liked the stuff about his condemned house, which, in the end, becomes a character in itself.

A major letdown is the style. Not at all gritty, dirty, dark, or hard-boiled, which is what I expected (see the body count section of the facts). At times, it's almost comical, and these repetitive style shifts really damage the pace and whole structure of the book. Towards the end, I started to feel a bit ripped off and just wanted to finish it.

I'm not sure about this one; it's not bad, but it's certainly not very good. I guess it's okay for Thompson's die-hard fans and completists or academic researchers of his work. I'm neither of these, so all I can say is that it reminded me that it's been too long since I've read his stuff. But the next one will be one of his oldies.

3/5

Facts:

Hero: 
Britt Rainstar, age 40. A bit unusual intellectual: he writes in-depth monographs on various unreadable subjects like ecology and ethnology. Native American descendant, living in a condemned house near the garbage dump.

Location: 
Not specified, but the growing pile of garbage in the backyard of his house could symbolise a typical modern American town.

Body count: 
Surprisingly (and disappointingly!) - none. Although justice will be served as one bad guy will get a 20-year prison sentence and another one will be sentenced to two (!?) lifetimes.

Dames:
Manuela Aloe: I looked at her - the silver blond hair, the startlingly black eyes and lashes, the flawlessly creamy complexion. I looked around and found it impossible to believe that such a delicious bon bon of a girl would do harm to anyone.

Plus cop/nurse Miss Kate "Kay" Nolson. Plus Connie, his greedy wife, who refuses to become an ex-wife. Plus, let us not forget his bitchy alcoholic housekeeper, Mrs Olmstead.

Blackouts: 
He gets knocked out frequently. There is no less than four blackouts: he gets beaten up twice, shot at and pushed down the stairs in a wheelchair.
 

Title:  
Not sure. I see several possibilities:

• Britt is being ripped off by his wife and her greedy father
• Thompson titled it as a joke reference to his The Kill-Off
• Titled by the publishers to indicate they ripped us off by selling the book whose author had passed away almost ten years ago.

Cover: 
Pretty standard stuff

Cool lines:  
"Just what happened here, miss? Why was that door locked?"
Manny grinned at her impudently. "A broken-down bed and a locked door, and you ask me what happened? How long have you been a woman, dear?"