Book Report: The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler (1953, 1986)

I last read this book, I think, about 14 years ago when I got the New American Library complete novels of Chandler set. I’ve seen the movie since, although it took me two years to get through it after hanging up on the extended dance remix argument about impotence between the Wades. The film version took certain, erm, liberties with the story, I could tell based on basic WWRCD instinct. Now that I’ve refreshed my reading, I’m ready to go back to try the film again to set in concrete the reasons why it’s inferior.

A later novel in the Philip Marlowe pantheon, this book deals with Marlowe striking up a friendship with a veteran. When the veteran flees after his wife is murdered, Marlowe helps him out and is drawn into the circle of his friend’s neighbors and their moneyed misdeeds. It’s a typical Chandler sort of plot, for what that’s worth: a little convoluted, perhaps, but at least all the corpses are accounted for this time around.

But the texture of the language. There’s something to it, of course, something that differentiates it from the other pulp writers and other purveyors of paperback sensibilities. MacDonald and McBain dabble in it, but Chandler mastered it. Parker touched it before writing for the talkies ruined him.

Reminds me why I wanted to write this sort of thing.

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Hulshof Leads In Corrupting Influence

The Post-Dispatch headline is Steelman lags behind Hulshof. What, in votes? No. Projected votes based on a few people reached by phone? No.

GOP gubernatorial candidate Kenny Hulshof rode a wave of endorsements to fundraising success this quarter, outpacing his primary opponent, Sarah Steelman, by more than a 4-1 ratio.

That is, he’s raised more money than she has. But! Citizen, money is a corrupting influence in politics, which is why (the rationale goes) it must be limited by the government.

But the papers, who cheerlead the limitations because they like all government intervention, especially the ones that increase their influence, report on this as though it’s indicative of anything more than who’s got the friends with the deepest pockets.

We could expect it to be Hulshof, the Washington, D.C., resident running for the job. I’m for Steelman, of course, because I think going to Washington, D.C., is sort of like a British man going to WWI. Dudes, I’m Mrs. Dalloway in this scenario, and I just want to have a little party here without damaged veterans of foreign wars or DC “politics” (self- and party-enrichment) ruining it.

What’s my point, other than I saw the movie of the Woolf novel? Oh, yeah, go Steelman.

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Book Report: A Pair of Blue Eyes by Thomas Hardy (1873, 1986)

It took me three weeks to read this book, which means that it’s probably weaned me off of classical literature for the near future, at least until I can get back to reading a couple of hours each night.

That said, this is certainly my current favorite Hardy book, but all I’ve read is Tess of the D’Urbervilles when I was young (at the university) and Under a Greenwood Tree last year. Therefore, it’s currently one of three.

The book details the affairs of the daughter of a rector in West England, Elfride by name. When a young architect comes to draw up plans for the work on the rectory, she falls for him and he for her; he idealizes her and looks up to her after a fashion. They almost elope, as her father discovers that he is of low birth and refuses to approve the match. The young man goes to India to make his fortune. Meanwhile, his educated mentor meets the woman and she falls for him, too. He, on the other hand, does not look up to her, but celebrates her purity and the fact that he’s first in her heart. When her past attachment is uncovered, the scholar breaks off their engagement.

It’s a simple enough structure, but by presenting the two types of man and how she relates to them, the book delves into male-female relationships well. I thought the ending was a bit of a cop-out, though, but the book is still a heck of a read. The language slows one a bit, but not too much off of the pace you get with current dialogue-laden scripts-with-paragraphs.

The book I read was the Penguin classics edition, though, and it came with a horrid, long introductory essay that I was smart enough not to read before I read the book. I mean, it’s a discussion about the themes within the book and has no place ahead of the material it talks about. Also, the introduction did reassure me that I made the right decision in not pursuing a job in academia. It actually has the sentence, “The drama of the plot of A Pair of Blue Eyes is patriarchal,” and although it does not use the word phallic, it does use bourgeous. Oh, for Pete’s sake. It’s a good story with interesting dwellings on the human condition, and the academics sap that power from the narrative through their readings for their own chestnut points. I squirm when I realize these people have moved out of English programs and into government.

Get yourself a good Barnes and Noble edition or a Walter J. Black printing from somewhere and ignore the pretentious pontifications about it and enjoy the story. As Hardy would have wanted it.

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Some Book Hunting: July 12, 2008

We hit a couple of garage sales this weekend, in a stunning turn of events. We tried to hit a big church rummage sale, but it was in the paper a week early, so we had to settle for a string of smaller affairs. As I’m learning, the number of books available at these yard sales is growing slimmer and slimmer. Heck, even the estate sales offer fewer pickings, which probably indicates how few readers are left. Soon, we readers will actually have to fight and steal from each other to get secondhand books until one of us has all of them. And you know whom I am betting on.

At any rate, I got:



A few books for the middle of July
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I got:

  • A three volume biography of George Washington because I didn’t have one.
  • A copy of Mutiny on the Bounty in case I don’t already have one.
  • Two taste-free comedies, Deuce Bigelow and BASEketball, because they were only fifty cents each for the VHS cassettes and I hadn’t seen them since they were in the theaters.
  • A couple of cassettes because they were cheap.

As I said, slim pickings. But I like to think of this as resting up for the Carondolet Y book fair this year, which will not be at the Carondolet Y.

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Brat Favor

Brian’s favored resolutions to the 2008 Brett Favre Crisis:

  • Trade him to New Orleans for Mike McKenzie.
  • Trade him to Atlanta for a couple of Michael Vick’s rescued dogs. They’ll be more loyal and less fickle.
  • Send him to a CFL team, an outdoor one if there’s one available, and let him play in the cold all the time.

Ever since he didn’t file his retirement papers, I thought he wanted a trade. How quickly can I turn on a favorite player? Less quickly than he can turn on his fans. You can go somewhere else, Favre, but you won’t be the Brett Favre you were in Green Bay. You’ll be a rented journeyman quarterback.

Excuse me while I go order my Kampman jersey.

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Bizarro World, Redux

St. Charles County cuts spending:

Less-than-expected sales tax receipts spurred County Executive Steve Ehlmann today to order county agencies to reduce spending by 8 percent and to eliminate discretionary travel.

Whoa. Must be a stop gap measure until they can figure out how to raise taxes, but still. It’s the sound of fiscal responsibility, if not the practice (but possibly the beginning of the practice).

Cruising bill hits a brick wall:

“I am all too aware of the problems facing the areas targeted by cruising. The cruisers, many of whom are not from St. Louis, are terrorizing our neighborhoods,” Reed said in a statement. “Something needs to be done, but pushing through flawed legislation, which in this bill only continues to erode civil liberties, is not the answer.”

Not passing a poor law just because they can? What sanity-flavored Kool Aid are those alderman drinking? I’d think $4 a gallon gas will curb cruising better than making it illegal, but I’m just thinking back to my young cruising days and shuddering at the thought of putting the whole week’s pay into the gas tank on Friday and Saturday nights, before the Kalt’s burgers and Jolt Cola.

Maybe there is room for some slight optimism in the country and its governance today.

By today, I mean “this morning.” Give me a couple hours and I’ll work myself out of it.

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The Miniature Dachshund Threat

Well, now that many municipalities have eliminated the pit bull and rottweiler threats, perhaps they need to turn their attention to another nemesis of mankind, the miniature dachshund:

A dog chewed off an Alton woman’s big toe while she napped earlier this week.

How many innocent toes have to die before we remove the scourge of this dog breed from our cities? If it saves one toe, it’s worth any cost.

They were bred to bite toes and feet; look at them! They serve no other purpose. City fathers, I demand you round them up and gas them.

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A License In Time Saves Nine

Some people think the power of licensing can prevent the deaths of children or tragedies of all sorts. What sort of license could have prevented this?

Adin was already dead, beaten by the defendant at a Motel 6 near the airport because he had wet his pants and was crying, Gabler admitted the next day to police and in court Wednesday.

Gabler wrapped the body in sheets, stuffed the corpse into a suitcase, and drove to Clyde Hamrick Elementary School, just west of Highway 21, near House Springs, where Gabler grew up.

Adin was the son of Min Choi of Maryland Heights. She was visiting relatives in New York and left Adin in Gabler’s care. The couple had been going together for about two years.

Larner said Gabler went on a heroin binge that week and took the drug both before and after Adin’s death.

  • A license before dating a heroin user.
  • A license before traveling to New York without your children.
  • A license for dumping bodies.

Add your own tasteless comments if you need to. Point is, though, that people lie at the heart of many tragedies, whether accidental or willful, and any license regime will not prevent them.

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July 9 Celebration

Let’s look at today’s calendar:



The Calendar
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Is today a national holiday or something?



It's Wyland's birthday!
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It is! It’s Wyland’s birthday! Happy birthday to that great, erm, American, I assume. Who is Wyland, you ask?



Wyland's signature
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Why, it’s the artist behind the calendar. If you’ve been living under a rock or, well, anywhere where you’ve got a life, you probably don’t know that Wyland is one of the more popular artists in America now and the official artist of the US Olympic team. To be honest, I had no idea until I googled him and reached his corporation’s site.

But the company puts his birthday on its calendars, and I’ll be honest, I have to respect that. If my company made calendars, I’d do something similar, except that I’d have them mark my wife and kids’ birthdays and my anniversary. Just so I’d be unable to forget to put them on the calendar.

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My Kind Of Hardware Store

I just got my first Ace Rewards gift card, which means I’ve spent too much enough at Ace Hardware to warrant them giving me five dollars in merchandise because they know I’ll buy thirty dollars worth of stuff when I come in.

The restrictions on the back make me wonder if I’m going to the wrong Ace, though.


My Ace doesn't stock liquor, tobacco, or firearms.

Prohibiting me from using this towards alcohol, tobacco, or firearms at Ace would seem to indicate that somewhere there’s an Ace Hardware that stocks these things. I’d like to know which one(s) because I’d like to shop there instead of my boring old hardware store.

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Doing It Wrong In The 21st Century

It’s not often you see redevelopment plans like this in the 21st century:

The Stevens family, owners of Sterling Pen Company based in Webster Groves, plan a major renovation to the 1936 “Quonset hut” building that has been unoccupied for more than 15 years. The building would be turned into office space.

The exterior of the former brick warehouse, 8193 Big Bend, was modernized by the Stevens in the early 1990s, but the interior was never completed. The two-story building also has a basement.

The development proposal does not call for any new construction, but would create parking for the newly-renovated building by demolishing the building currently occupied by Earth Designs. That property is also owned by the Stevens family, as is the building and property leased by the adjoining Roger’s Produce, 625 E. Lockwood.

Jeff De Pew, owner of Earth Designs, said he has been working with the Stevens family who has “made sure I have a viable and comfortable option” for relocation of his business.

De Pew said he will move Earth Designs into a residential property at 624 Fair Oaks Ave., located directly behind his current location. The house is owned by the Stevens family, who plan a major renovation to the structure for use as a business. The home’s backyard will be converted into additional parking. All access to the new development will be off of Big Bend, and not the residential neighborhood to the north.

What, the development company owns all the properties itself and doesn’t need tax money to do the work?

Kudos to the Stevens family and Sterling Pen. I hope the city of Webster Groves doesn’t veto the plan simply because it doesn’t call for the government to exert undue influence.

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How To Barbecue Your Tofurkey

Clayton company says it has built a better grill:

A Clayton entrepreneur is offering a solution for cooks who love to barbecue but find charcoal grills physically or environmentally distasteful.

Bryce Rutter, founder and chief executive of Metaphase Design Group Inc., set up a company to produce a novel grill — one that takes up less space and uses up to 75 percent fewer charcoal briquettes than traditional models.

Then Rutter went an environmental step further last month by acquiring the exclusive North American rights to import an all-natural charcoal made in the Philippines from coconut shells.

Guys, there’s this thing called knowing your target audience, and the people who worry about charcoal grills being environmentally distasteful don’t, you know, eat meat much less cook it over a flame. Their total food preparation experience involves leaving their lofts to go for sushi or Thai or Indian food.

But know that you’ve designed it, you’ll discover the flawed business premise.

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A Secret Shakespearean Fantasy

Back when I was a shipping/receiving clerk for a local art supply store, I always wanted to recite the Porter scene from MacBeth whenever a delivery driver rang the bell on the loading dock:

    Macbeth, Act II, Scene III

      Knocking within. Enter a Porter  
    Porter: Here’s a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knocking within.] Knock, knock, knock! Who’s there, i’ the name of Beelzebub? Here’s a farmer, that hanged himself on the expectation of plenty: come in time; have napkins enow about you; here you’ll sweat for’t. [Knocking within.] Knock, knock! Who’s there, in th’other devil’s name? Faith, here’s an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale; who committed treason enough for God’s sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come in, equivocator. [Knocking within.] Knock, knock, knock! Who’s there? Faith, here’s an English tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose. [Knocking within.] Knock, knock; never at quiet! What are you? But this place is too cold for hell. I’ll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire. [Knocking within.] Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter. [Opens the gate.]

Of course, by the time I would have gotten that out, the truck driver would have come in the front door looking for me and swearing. Also, it would have weirded out a commercial sales guy if he was in the warehouse pulling and order or prepping it for the courier, but that would have been a bonus.

Unfortunately, those were busy days. It wasn’t until I was a printer, operating a two color offset printing press for hours on end, that I got the chance to spend days memorizing pieces, like “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock“. My recitation of which (or the appreciation of my recitation of which by an English teacher mother-in-law-to-be) and a timely hard drive replacement secured me permission to marry my beautiful wife. The porter scene might have worked in that situation, too, but I’m glad I didn’t take the chance.

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