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I finished The Maltese Falcon last night, and it's one of those cases where, as much as it's an unquestionably well-written book, I can't say I'd go out of my way to recommend it.
Fun fact - I had actually seen the movie version all the way back when I was a kid, and remember being distinctly put out and frustrated with every character's choice to lie for, what seemed to me at the time, no good reason. Surely, if they all wanted this maltese falcon that much, they'd be better off working together, right?
Eight was definitely too young to properly appreciate Humphrey Bogart, and if I ever do revisit the story, I'll likely spring for the movie over the book.
Now, as an adult, and having read the novel, Its pretty clear all the characters determination to lie is very much the point. Everybody's too distrustful, to ruthless, too greedy, or some combination of all three to ever dare cooperate. They're all looking out for number one, and in the end, their refusal to compromise is what ruins them, with all but one out of the whole, stupid mess - Sam Spade, the protagonist and arguably the most moral (for a given value of moral), either dead or jailed.
It's a dirty world filled with dirty people, cops, crooks, and all.
Frankly, both this book and From Here to Eternity are good reminders that mid-twentieth century America absolutely did not think of itself as a fine or happy time. The Maltese Falcon was written at the start of the Great Depression, and depicts a modern world too cynical for truly good men to exist at all, while From Here to eternity was published in 1950, hot in the aftermath of World War 2, and focuses on the human desire to make something, or be something, meaningful to himself, through love or friendship or integrity, and how the army - and by extension, the world - would much rather he be broken down, isolated, and compliant instead.
An interesting side note about the Maltese Falcon is that it's written in true third person impersonal omniscient, a style you almost never see. None of the character's inner thoughts are given by the narrator, only their actions and appearance, as described by a speaker who stand completely apart from the characters he describes.
I'm seriously considering grabbing one of my unread pulp novels, heck, maybe one of my stupid bodice ripper romances, after finishing From Here to Eternity in particular, which I'm still sure will end in tragedy. Between that and The Maltese Falcon, I'm up to my ears in cynicism, and could use a break from the mid-century ennui.
Fun fact - I had actually seen the movie version all the way back when I was a kid, and remember being distinctly put out and frustrated with every character's choice to lie for, what seemed to me at the time, no good reason. Surely, if they all wanted this maltese falcon that much, they'd be better off working together, right?
Eight was definitely too young to properly appreciate Humphrey Bogart, and if I ever do revisit the story, I'll likely spring for the movie over the book.
Now, as an adult, and having read the novel, Its pretty clear all the characters determination to lie is very much the point. Everybody's too distrustful, to ruthless, too greedy, or some combination of all three to ever dare cooperate. They're all looking out for number one, and in the end, their refusal to compromise is what ruins them, with all but one out of the whole, stupid mess - Sam Spade, the protagonist and arguably the most moral (for a given value of moral), either dead or jailed.
It's a dirty world filled with dirty people, cops, crooks, and all.
Frankly, both this book and From Here to Eternity are good reminders that mid-twentieth century America absolutely did not think of itself as a fine or happy time. The Maltese Falcon was written at the start of the Great Depression, and depicts a modern world too cynical for truly good men to exist at all, while From Here to eternity was published in 1950, hot in the aftermath of World War 2, and focuses on the human desire to make something, or be something, meaningful to himself, through love or friendship or integrity, and how the army - and by extension, the world - would much rather he be broken down, isolated, and compliant instead.
An interesting side note about the Maltese Falcon is that it's written in true third person impersonal omniscient, a style you almost never see. None of the character's inner thoughts are given by the narrator, only their actions and appearance, as described by a speaker who stand completely apart from the characters he describes.
I'm seriously considering grabbing one of my unread pulp novels, heck, maybe one of my stupid bodice ripper romances, after finishing From Here to Eternity in particular, which I'm still sure will end in tragedy. Between that and The Maltese Falcon, I'm up to my ears in cynicism, and could use a break from the mid-century ennui.
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