No disrespect to Quentin, but I like my pulp fiction on, well…pulp. Not celluloid. At 1150 pages, The Black Lizard Big Book of Pulps is like a crash course in the hard-boiled and sinful. It’s helpfully divided into three major archetype-sections–good guys (”The Crimefighters”), bad guys (”The Villains”) and the sexpots who love them (”The Dames”). The slang is unreal, and the character names are even better–Kid Deth? Scuttle? Storm? Marvel and DC have got nothing on the pulps.
This is the real deal, too, no latter-day imitators, so don’t expect any whitewashed tales. The writers of these stories weren’t always kind to women or anyone with an accent. It’s like an action fiction master class with a little social history piled on top. Otto Penzler poured over yellowed and cracked copies of vintage ten-cent magazines with names like Dime Detectives, Gun Molls, Black Mask Magazine, and Detective Fiction Weekly to come up with these stories and illustrations. He even managed to track down a never-published Dashiell Hammett story, which oughta mean something to anyone who was knocked out by the noir classic The Maltese Falcon.
In his introduction to the first section of the book, Harlan Coban claims, “Ninety percent of the writers out there admit they [read pulp fiction]. Ten percent lie about it.” ? This stuff is so good you’ll never lie about it. Hell, you’ll be proud of it–you’ll be bragging to all your friends that while they may be able to quote Samuel L. Jackson-as-Jules-quoting-Ezekiel 25:17, you’re tight with “The Girl Who Knew Too Much,” “The Invisible Millionaire,” and “The Devil’s Bookkeeper.”
The Coen Brothers’ creepy No Country For Old Men (based on the creepy Cormac McCarthy book of the same name) is out in limited release today, and the reviews are ridiculously great. Rotten Tomatoes has it at 93% positive, the likes of which I personally haven’t seen since, what, Ratatouille? And as much as I love adorable French rats, I like Javier Bardem’s haircut even better.
The film will open wide in the US on November 21st. What to do in the meantime? Well, I’ve got this trailer…
What’s in a name? Colson Whitehead addresses this age-old question in his intriguingly-titled Apex Hides the Hurt, a novel that focuses primarily on the character and experiences of a nomenclature consultant who travels to a small rural town undergoing a name-changing crisis. The town’s history, future growth potential, and race relations all fall central to the debate as three different sects of residents clash over what the town should be renamed. Caught in the crossfire, the nameless protagonist must, as an outsider, struggle to uncover the truth about the town’s history and spirit. Interwoven throughout the narrative of the town is the personal story of the consultant’s past. As the story progresses, this conjoining of past and present reveals an inherent connection between the tale of the town and the tale of the protagonist until it gradually becomes apparent that, for the consultant, to rename the town is to rediscover his own soul. (more…)
An old millionaire named General Sternwood lies on his deathbed. His two daughters rack up gambling debts, fall into blackmail plots, get men killed and see men killed. They giggle, bat their eyelashes, sway their hips, and jump into bed with all the racketeers and two-bit hoodlums that populate the seedy underbelly of Los Angeles circa 1939. Rain pours, daylight rarely comes, and Philip Marlow—private eye—attempts to undo the damage the Sternwood girls have wrought. “The Big Sleep” is death. That is, to sleep the big sleep is to die. It is a hard, harsh world that Raymond Chandler manifests, one in which the hero (Marlow) limps home, alone, to nurse a bottle of whiskey and never gets the girl. (more…)
For a first time novelist Ben Dolnick is sure getting a lot of press. His debut effort, Zoology, the story of college student Henry Elinsky who moves back in with his parents and takes a job at the Central Park Zoo after flunking out of college, has garnered largely positive reviews. In publications ranging from The Boston Globe, OK!, Radar Magazine, to the The Los Angeles Times Zoology is characterized as a warm, relatable, coming of agetale. Which can’t be all bad for Dolnick’s burgeoning career. Check out the reviews and check out the book, which is sure to be a fun summer read.
Add another notch to Ethan Hawke’s belt. The actor, writer, and now second time director is bringing his 1997 debut novel, The Hottest State, to a screen near you. Hawke wrote, directed, and stars in the semi-autobiographical film, which is expected to hit theaters on August 24th. While the jury is still out on whether the film is good, (so far it’s made the rounds at the Venice Film Festival and at Cannes) the accompanying soundtrack is sure to be. Featuring songs from artists including Willie Nelson, Norah Jones, Cat Power, and Feist, the soundtrack will be coming out on August 7th.
Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is an ominously dreamlike and contemplative look at the powerful reach of evil and those who are scarred by its effects. The story begins with the seemingly ordinary disappearance of a household cat. Toru Okada, an unemployed man uncertain of his purpose in life, is given the task of finding the cat by his malcontented and distant wife, who also takes off without any explanation shortly after the novel starts.
Let’s face it – I’m a sucker for novelty. That, in fact, is what first piqued my interest in Walter Kirn’s : its format is so utterly unique. Kirn first published the novel in January 2006, not in hard-copy format, but as an “Internet novel”, with new updates added every week. Taking full advantage of all the bizarre, interesting, and slightly creepy phenomena available on the Internet, Kirn provides links at certain phrases throughout the story to different videos or websites, some of which seem totally irrelevant and others absolutely crucial to the understanding of the plot. An interactive book! I thought. If nothing else, this will be fun! And it certainly was fun; the prose is very accessible, the plot is infused with intrigue, the characters are quirky, and the web links provide their own continual entertainment. (more…)
Margaret Atwood is correct when she claims that Orhan Pamuk is literally ‘narrating his country into being’ with the book Snow. More than anything else, this novel of a lost poet in search of love and inspiration in small town Turkey concerns itself with heady political, social, and spiritual questions unique to modern-day Turkey. The author treats these debates with care and prudence, and these debates in many ways reflect the ongoing debate about Turkey’s (in/ex)clusion to the European Union, making the novel incredibly relevant to Easterners and Westerners alike. (more…)
Mason LaVerle sets out from an isolated Montana commune seeking to replenish the gene pool of his dwindling, inbred religious sect, the Aboriginal Fulfilled Apostles. What he finds is that the only people willing, or even likely, to come back with him could use some pretty serious help themselves. In Walter Kirn’s book everyone is in need of being saved. Besides the Apostles tucked away in Bluff, there are teenage Wiccans, new-age environmentalists, trust-fund ranchers, a harried writer, a failed actress, even a herd of buffalo; all seem perfect candidates for a little earthly salvation as prescribed in the pages of the Apostles’ newsletter, Luminaria (except the buffalo, who of course can’t read). (more…)
No disrespect to Quentin, but I like my pulp fiction on, well…pulp. Not celluloid. At 1150 pages, The Black Lizard Big Book of Pulps is like a crash course in the hard-boiled and sinful. It’s helpfully divided into three major archetype-sections–good guys (”The Crimefighters”), bad guys (”The Villains”) and the sexpots who love them (”The Dames”). The slang is unreal, and the character names are even better–Kid Deth? Scuttle? Storm? Marvel and DC have got nothing on the pulps.
Reviewed by Ryan Bradley
For a first time novelist 
Mason LaVerle sets out from an isolated Montana commune seeking to replenish the gene pool of his dwindling, inbred religious sect, the Aboriginal Fulfilled Apostles. What he finds is that the only people willing, or even likely, to come back with him could use some pretty serious help themselves. In Walter Kirn’s book everyone is in need of being saved. Besides the Apostles tucked away in Bluff, there are teenage Wiccans, new-age environmentalists, trust-fund ranchers, a harried writer, a failed actress, even a herd of buffalo; all seem perfect candidates for a little earthly salvation as prescribed in the pages of the Apostles’ newsletter, Luminaria (except the buffalo, who of course can’t read).