It has been a long time, probably more than ten years, since I last read the novel, and I enjoyed it just as much this time. Chandler’s main character Philip Marlowe, private investigator, makes many wry observations while he trudges through the details of his investigation. In Farewell, My Lovely, he isn’t hired—that is, being paid—for a lot of the work that he is doing. But he enjoys the work, at least most of the time and in spite of the trouble and violence it brings him. And he feels an obligation to Lindsay Marriott, who did hire him (and paid him) but who died while under Marlowe’s protection.
Marlowe first becomes involved because he can’t resist finding out a little bit more about Moose Malloy, someone he spots on Central Avenue, Los Angeles, looking for his former girlfriend, Velma Valento, in a speakeasy and causing trouble. They get acquainted over drinks and Malloy’s propensity to get in trouble. Malloy decides he needs some help looking for Velma, so he hires Marlowe. Soon after, a man named Lindsay Marriott wants to hire Marlowe to make a payment for the recovery of a Fei Tsui jade necklace. Marlowe doesn’t know it at first, but Moose Malloy, Velma Valento, and Lindsay Marriott are all connected, and he will figure out how by the end, of course.
(This article about the novel Farewell, My Lovely contains spoilers.)
Along his way, Marlowe makes some wry observations, as I mentioned. They are one of the reasons the book is a joy to read, even though it was first published in 1940. For instance, Marlowe meets Anne Riordan at the scene of Marriott’s murder. When she arrives at his office to help with some additional information, Chandler describes part of their meeting as follows: “I didn’t say anything. I lit my pipe again. It makes you look thoughtful when you are not thinking” (page 91).
Marlowe gets tossed around quite a bit during his investigation of Marriott’s murder. While trying to recover from one such incident, Marlowe thinks, “I was sitting on the side of my bed in my pajamas, thinking about getting up, but not yet committed. I didn’t feel very well, but I didn’t feel as sick as I ought to, not as sick as I would feel if I had a salaried job” (pages 190–191). I found that last sentence very relatable: It is a lot easier to drag one’s sick self to a home computer or laptop than it is to drag one’s sick self to the office workstation via subway or car.
But not every aspect of his job pleases Marlowe. One has to expect that in pulp fiction, right? Early in the novel, soon after meeting Moose Malloy, Marlowe tracks down Jessie Florian, the widow of Velma Valento’s former boss at the speakeasy on Central Avenue. He goes to her home and plies her with alcohol to get her to talk, a task he feels is necessary but distasteful: “I liked getting her drunk for my own sordid purposes. . . . You find almost anything under your hand in my business, but I was beginning to be a little sick at my stomach” (page 34). Near the end of the novel, Marlowe sits in a cheap hotel room and considers his current situation while still investigating murder, a jewel heist, and police corruption: “I needed a drink, I needed a lot of life insurance, I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a coat, a hat and a gun. I put them on and went out of the room” (page 238). In spite of everything he has endured to that point, he still has the resolution to solve the case.
I enjoy reading Chandler because of his turns of phrase and his use of language, but there is no escaping that he and, by extension, his private investigator Marlowe are products of his time. In Farewell, My Lovely, almost every group one can imagine is described in stereotypical language and given demeaning characterizations: Blacks, women, Asian Americans, Native Americans, Italian Americans . . . it’s a long list. For this reason alone, I can only recommend the novel with this caveat: That modern readers keep in mind that the novel was published almost 100 years ago, before the civil rights movement, before the women’s movement, and so on.
The film adaptation, Murder, My Sweet, released just four years after the publication of the novel, avoids all of these pitfalls, which makes the film more fun for modern viewers to watch. Dick Powell plays Philip Marlowe, and he captures Marlowe’s humor and cynicism without disparaging whole groups in single sentences.
Farewell, My Lovely is the second novel that Raymond Chandler published and, like all his novels, it was based on his previously published short stories. Farewell, My Lovely is based specifically on “Try the Girl” (published January 1937 in Black Mask magazine), “Mandarin’s Jade” (November 1937 in Dime Detective), and “The Man Who Liked Dogs” (March 1936 in Blask Mask), all of which I have read. Reading pulp fiction from the 1930s and 1940s is fun because of the language and the slang, but the slang that was so commonly understood then presents a challenge for modern-day readers. Here is a brief list of some of the terms that I had to look up while reading Farewell, My Lovely:
◊ borsalino hat: Borsalino is an Italian hat manufacturer, and its brand name was probably used as a common noun in the 1930s and 1940s, much like xerox is today. You can read about the company and its legacy at Wikipedia.
◊ juju: marijuana cigarettes. Chandler spells it as “marihuana.”
◊ dunned: From Power Thesaurus, to harass, for example, by continually repeating a request
◊ fakeloo artist: a con artist.
◊ flesh peddler: in Chandler’s day (that is, the 1930s and 1940s), a theatrical agent.
◊ French fits: from Wiktionary, delirium tremens.
◊ hoopla spreader: from Merriam-Webster, someone who spreads exaggerated information.
◊ the Purple Gang: from Wikipedia, a criminal mob of bootleggers and hijackers composed predominantly of Jewish gangsters that operated in Detroit, Michigan, during the 1920s of the Prohibition Era and became Detroit’s dominant criminal gang. Also known as the Sugar House Gang. See Wikipedia for more information.
◊ sneezer: From Wordnik, prison
I am a big fan of Raymond Chandler, in spite of his demeaning portrayals of some characters. I enjoy his use of language and his vivid descriptions. His plots are difficult to follow, but they are not impossible. And I enjoy that challenge, too. Like most films noir, which benefit from repeat viewings, Chandler’s novels benefit from repeat readings. For me, the pleasure comes from the language, which I always find is one of the reasons to write and to read in the first place.
Farewell, My Lovely, by Raymond Chandler • New York: First Vintage Crime/Black Lizard Edition, 1992 • Originally published in 1940
List of main characters:
Philip Marlowe • Moose Malloy • Detective Lieutenant Nulty • Jessie Florian • Mrs. Morrison, Jessie Forian’s next-door neighbor • Lindsay Marriott • Anne Riordan • Detective Lieutenant Carl Randall • Helen Grayle • Jules Amthor • Sergeant Galbraith (aka Hemingway) • Dr. Sonderborg • Laird Brunette
The image of the front cover is from the First Vintage Crime/Black Lizard Edition. The page references in this article refer to First Vintage Crime/Black Lizard Edition listed above.
I consulted the following online sources for definitions and information about slang and vocabulary:
Merriam-Webster • Miskatonic University Press: Twists, Slugs, and Roscoes: A Glossary of Hardboiled Slang • Power Thesaurus • Thought Catalog • Urban Dictionary • Wikipedia • Wiktionary • Wordnick
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