I was as hollow and empty as the spaces between the stars. Somehow, Chandler’s detective Marlowe walks the straight and narrow path and comes out alive at the end: It’s about a nasty, persistent evil that, once you poke it with a stick, keeps coming back to snare you and hurt you. This is no tight Agatha Christie thriller than runs like a Swiss clockwork. Chandler’s wife, Cissy, was dying and he felt more vulnerable. I might even go so far as to say it is his masterpiece, though back then I liked The Big Sleep and Farewell My Lovely more. In the meantime, I have aged-not exactly like a fine wine, but aged nonetheless-and found myself loving Raymond Chandler’s penultimate work. I had read The Long Goodbye many years ago, and liked it. The following is based on my review of Raymond Chandler’s The Long Goodbye for Goodreads.Com:
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