Jim Thompson is a national
treasure. He writes about the ways in which alienation and loneliness permeate
our society and manifest themselves in spectacularly brutal and nasty ways,
that even though he is most famous for being a crime novelist, he should be
spoken of in the same sentence as a Faulkner or Hemingway. The feelings he puts
down, no matter how disturbing and disquieting, are very heartfelt, and come
from a place that is distinctly American. His prose style manages to be both
poetic in its viciousness, but readable in how cinematic it comes off, which is
why so many of his books have been adapted into successful movies. But with a
person who wrote as much as Thompson did, their was bound to be some books in
the bunch that are not very good, especially compared to his great works, and
Savage Night is one of them. I get the feeling this was written for a solid
paycheck, despite the fact that it may have the weirdest ending that Thompson
ever wrote. It is simply a minor work in the canon of someone as prolific as
he. The protagonist is Carl Bigelow, who may be a kid fresh out of college or a
stone killer out for blood. He holes up in a dirty motel, awaiting orders from
an unseen boss, while he has his eyes on a woman who probably isn’t the best
fit for him, but in Thompson’s world, no one is. It has a few funny lines of
dialogue and brutal scenes of violence, including a graphic stabbing scene, but
it is all toned down in a way that makes you want Lou Ford in ways you really
shouldn’t. Even with a wild, bizarre ending, this book is still a tiny footnote
to a great career.
Rating: 3/5
No comments:
Post a Comment