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A review by blueyorkie
Perdeu-se uma Mulher by Raymond Chandler
5.0
I started reading Raymond Chandler's novels to complete my thriller culture. I thought I would find that same cliché of the solitary and invincible detective laying down the law in the streets of Los Angeles. So yes, it's partly true, but the novel is not just a story of gangsters; the essential lies in Chandler's talent: the atmosphere, the intrigue, and the writing are remarkable.
The story begins with an unusual encounter. Marlowe meets a man distinguished by a build "no wider than a tank truck." The behemoth enters a bar frequented by African Americans, and in less than a minute, one of the customers had ejected from the establishment—an excellent glide. The detective, intrigued, enters the bar in turn. And here, he is drawn into a tortuous story that will take him to the living rooms of a millionaire, a medium or an alcoholic slut, a clandestine clinic, or the holds of a boat transformed into a casino.
I particularly liked Chandler's style. He knows how to be lyrical and uses images like that of a beetle stuck in a police building to illustrate Marlowe's state of mind. And then there are these images that I find lovely. Here are two examples: "The moist air was cold as the ashes of a dead love" and "the voice became as cold as a canteen meal." The novel is very well written and has an old-fashioned touch (busty blondes, crooked police officers, Italian mobsters), giving it a natural charm. A favorite!
The story begins with an unusual encounter. Marlowe meets a man distinguished by a build "no wider than a tank truck." The behemoth enters a bar frequented by African Americans, and in less than a minute, one of the customers had ejected from the establishment—an excellent glide. The detective, intrigued, enters the bar in turn. And here, he is drawn into a tortuous story that will take him to the living rooms of a millionaire, a medium or an alcoholic slut, a clandestine clinic, or the holds of a boat transformed into a casino.
I particularly liked Chandler's style. He knows how to be lyrical and uses images like that of a beetle stuck in a police building to illustrate Marlowe's state of mind. And then there are these images that I find lovely. Here are two examples: "The moist air was cold as the ashes of a dead love" and "the voice became as cold as a canteen meal." The novel is very well written and has an old-fashioned touch (busty blondes, crooked police officers, Italian mobsters), giving it a natural charm. A favorite!