Scan barcode
A review by the_eucologist
The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett
3.0
I have to say as my first 'real' detective novel, Maltese Falcon was brilliant. I love Dashiell Hammett's dialogue and diction--picking up several interesting words and phrases in the process. What most intrigued me was the authenticity. Hammett illustrates this through punctuated language; careful character description; and his detail in conveying body language, which, to me, was one of the more interesting aspects of the novel. Aside from hearing words, there was a tangibility communicated by a shrug of the shoulders, or the pull of a cigarette. In one of the key sections a character states that he likes dealing with "people who like to talk", seeing the contrary as indication of mistrust or insecurity. Hammett's seems very-much to be a talk-y mystery. Revelations are arrived at through Spade's rapid-fire dialogue (which is thankful; I doubt I could have 'solved' the mystery without his common-sense locution).
MT offers careful glimpses into both sides of good and evil, a common motif. At the beginning Spade is described as a blond Satan, and the majority of the men in the tale are seen to be unscrupulous in some way or another. The women of the novel, however, are often called 'angel' by the protagonist (or is it antihero?) and they're often seem as the vanguards of virtue. These romanticized, unrealistic depictions of women are sexist and I'm kind of glad Hammett only took this approach towards America's past. Though the criminals are often portrayed as lustfully devil-may-care there is a sense that this is not limited solely to their caste; Lt. Dundy is drawn in this way and Spade's partner is also not without his detriments. In this DH shows us a similarity of disposition akin to fraternity.
As a novel it's a relatively short read, though in its two-hundred or so pages you get a real sense of the characters (or you think you do). What I liked most about the novel was its prose and characterization, even its philosophy--a rather well-thought-out parable leaves one confused, questioning whether it's more instructive of Spade or O'Shaughnessy. I liked that this was the kind of novel one could read on a beach; some sequences are incredibly dreamlike and I frequently found myself amongst my own thoughts. Those with Spade doing what he does best--talk--are rather good at pulling you in. What I didn't enjoy so much was the rather predictable conclusion. Perhaps I've been too exposed by noir (and its paltry attempts in modern media), but these things always seem to come to a point where Woman is the inevitable mastermind and protecting feminine virtue is the penultimate challenge of Man. Conveniently, this fits in nicely with the aforementioned religious allegory but it denies complexity to what inevitably become caricatures. I'm sure that in its heyday MT was a delightful read, but today it just seems sort of.. routine.
MT offers careful glimpses into both sides of good and evil, a common motif. At the beginning Spade is described as a blond Satan, and the majority of the men in the tale are seen to be unscrupulous in some way or another. The women of the novel, however, are often called 'angel' by the protagonist (or is it antihero?) and they're often seem as the vanguards of virtue. These romanticized, unrealistic depictions of women are sexist and I'm kind of glad Hammett only took this approach towards America's past. Though the criminals are often portrayed as lustfully devil-may-care there is a sense that this is not limited solely to their caste; Lt. Dundy is drawn in this way and Spade's partner is also not without his detriments. In this DH shows us a similarity of disposition akin to fraternity.
As a novel it's a relatively short read, though in its two-hundred or so pages you get a real sense of the characters (or you think you do). What I liked most about the novel was its prose and characterization, even its philosophy--a rather well-thought-out parable leaves one confused, questioning whether it's more instructive of Spade or O'Shaughnessy. I liked that this was the kind of novel one could read on a beach; some sequences are incredibly dreamlike and I frequently found myself amongst my own thoughts. Those with Spade doing what he does best--talk--are rather good at pulling you in. What I didn't enjoy so much was the rather predictable conclusion. Perhaps I've been too exposed by noir (and its paltry attempts in modern media), but these things always seem to come to a point where Woman is the inevitable mastermind and protecting feminine virtue is the penultimate challenge of Man. Conveniently, this fits in nicely with the aforementioned religious allegory but it denies complexity to what inevitably become caricatures. I'm sure that in its heyday MT was a delightful read, but today it just seems sort of.. routine.