Well, to be fair, the Sherif did attempt to have him assassinated twice for merely trying to solve a crime.
And, in the words of Kuwabatake Sanjuro, “I’ll get paid for killing, and this town is full of people who deserve to die.”
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If he was my man, it was a fair bet he wasn’t armed. I played it that way, moving straight up the slimy middle of the alley, looking into shadows with eyes, ears and nose.
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This is a book report that ended up being much longer than I had intended.
I just finished reading John O’Hara’s collection of short stories written in the form of letters — epistolatory, if you prefer — titled “Pal Joey.” As you may recall, I’ve recently become familiar with the movie and I’ve always heard that the movie pales in comparison to the original Rodgers and Hart musical, so I thought I would take a look at the source material.
The book tells the story of Joey Evans, a fairly talented but self-destructive nightclub singer. He’s run away from some trouble in New York and has ended up stranded in Chi, getting whatever work he can in some lousy cribs. He has three primary character flaws: ignorance, a fast mouth, and his eye for the mice. He’s very susceptible to mice, and the feeling mutual. So he writes to his pal Ted who is leading a successful band in New York, frequently begging for a job without ever coming out and saying as much. He signs the letters as “Pal Joey.”
The stories were written, and take place, after the start of the Second World War but before the United States had joined.
After I started reading I was immediately reminded of Ring Lardner’s similarly epistolatory collection of stories, “You Know Me Al.” Just like “Pal Joey,” “You Know Me Al” is written as a series of letters composed of run-on sentences filled with poorly-spelled words written from one friend to another. The author of the letters in Lardner’s case is a fictional baseball pitcher named Jack Keefe. Joey Evans comes across as a very similar character to Keefe — talented, ignorant, braggadocios — except that O’Hara’s stories takes place twenty years later and involve a struggling nightclub singer.
I could definitely imagine Sinatra writing these letters. Not the older, wiser Sinatra from the 50s who appeared in the movie, no, rather the pre-fame Sinatra of the late 30s. Back before he was discovered by Harry James, an unknown kid with potential, constantly trying to prove he’s bigger than he actually is.
There is one aspect of Joey’s personality that did not appear in the stage or movie adaptations: he is casually racist. And don’t dismiss this detail by saying “well, everybody was then,” because it’s specifically included in the stories as a negative character trait.
I am surprised to report that I found the original book a bit thin: It was thin both in its size and its substance. It’s certainly an entertaining read, I cannot deny that, but I expected more from short stories about a nightclub singer who is plagued by his own self-destructive flaws.
I was abaout half way through the book when I discovered the stories were finished. And that’s when I found that the second half of my book was the “book” for the stage show, with the lyrics by Lorenz Hart in their appropriate places. The stage adaptation was also written by O’Hara. From here on, just to keep things clear, I’m going to refer to the original book as the “book,” and stage adaptation as the “musical.”
This incarnation of Joey Evans is no longer a singer, he’s an “M.C.” at a crib in Chi. Gene Kelly created this character, and it was perfect casting, I can definitely hear him delivering the lines. Although a few of the plot elements in the musical are borrowed from the book, the musical is largely a new creation with new charters.
I once heard a quote from Richard Rogers musing why this show was unpopular or even a little controversial. He said something like “the problem is all the charters in it are using each other, except Linda English. And she’s not good, she’s just dumb.”
Is there a plot? Joey’s an M.C., he gets fired for driving the rich woman away, he’s even ruder to her, they become lovers, he opens Chez Joey with her financial backing, he buys a suit, she grows tired of him and drops him, he moves on to another job somewhere else. The end. The whole show is bit superficial. There are no dramatic, impactful events — until the last scene.
That’s the genius of it.
The musical is made up of a series of brief vignettes. They’re not very compelling, but there’s Rogers and Hart’s songs to hold your attention and move things along. It all builds to the last moment when Joey and Linda talk one last time in from of the pet store, and then exit the stage in opposite directions. And that’s the end. There’s no happy ending. It’s not even a sad ending. The story is meaningless, and it just leaves you in a darkened theater sitting in the middle of a vacuum.
By the way, it was during the original run of this show where Gene Kelly first met Stanley Donen.
So, now I have seen the movie, read the stories and read the stage show. I can officially report that the movie is substantially closer to the source material than I had been given to believe. In fact, Dorothy Kingslei did a pretty effective job of adapting the stage play into a flowing narrative. The most out-of-character moment in the movie comes right at the end when Joey and Lindo go off together with “If They Asked Me” swelling in the background.
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“Where do you stand now?” I demanded. “Are you behind me?”
“If you win.”
I got up and said:
“I hope to Christ you get caught with them.”
He said:
“I reckon you do, but I won’t.” He squinted his eyes merrily at me. “I’m financing you. That shows I mean well, don’t it? Don’t be too hard on me, son, I’m kind of—”
I said, “Go to hell,” and walked out.”
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Well I just finished reading “Red Harvest.” It was my first Continental Op novel, and it was a real page-turner. “Yojimbo” is one of my favorite movies, and I decided to read the source material.
I could imagine James Garner circa 1975 playing this part. He had the necessary ability to deliver a sarcastic line with a big friendly smile on his face. To bad he didn’t play this character instead of Philip Marlowe. I’m sure they could ahve worked Bruce Lee into this story somehow.
The title intrigues me. The action takes place in a moderately-sized mining town in an unidentified western state. At the beginning of the story, the Op is told how a few years earlier the most powerful person in town introduced various criminal elements into this town to subdue labor unrest. I wonder if that was the original story — how the Continental Op brought gangsters to a small town to bust-up union organizing. Interstitng to consider.
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It is something the Pinkertons were famous for.
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Exactly. He was involved with a bit of that when he was with them, and is one of the reasons he quit.
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And I forgot to mention the moral of the story: Never have a gin and laudanum cocktail, you will regret it in the morning.
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In the working through my ebook pile from multiple humble bundle purchases…
I just finished Sister Light, Sister Dark and White Jenna by Jane Yolen.
Fun feminist YA fantasy about a chosen one who is to herald the ending of the current ways and help make the path for the new age of society.
I did like the magic was low key. Mostly the women of the all woman enclaves would call forth their dark sister from a mirror who was only in their plane of existence in twilight conditions. Also each passage is presented with historical notes of historians in the far future of the world trying to make sense of the legends/stories of the time.
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I just finished Michelle Obama’s book. It was good. I enjoyed learning about her upbringing. Her honesty was refreshing, and her centering on her upbringing.
I also could hear how they got co-opted by the political machine, were so concerned about holding themselves to high standards as the first black family in the White House - how that prevented them from making a bigger noise, fighting a loud ugly fight for justice that I would have liked them to take on. How they were in a position to question the legitimacy of Trump’s election but were just too tired and ready to leave to make a fuss.
As much as I liked hearing about their accomplishments, I wish they would have stopped trying to be so appealing.
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I liked The Dain Curse even more.
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I will keep that in mind.
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So, let’s talk about the black bird.
I followed up my reading of “Red Harvest” with another of Dashiell Hammett’s books titled “Black Enamel Harvest,” also known as “the Maltese Falcon.” I have to say I liked Red Harvest better.
For one thing, the story in Red Harvest told at a faster pace. In Red Harvest something interesting happens on each page, whereas The Maltese Falcon constantly times time out for elaborate descriptions of Sam Spade’s enormous hands. And although the Continental Op is a bit expirational, he seems like a much more fun guy to be around than Samuel Spade. Spade, as written, has all the warm huggable qualities of Mr. A.
And I have to say I liked the 1941 movie adaptation better. This can largely be credited to Humphrey Bogart’s performance, who made the character a bit more human. In fact, aside from Kasper Gutman, I like all the main cast in the movie better than the characters in the book.
One of the things that is amazing about the movie, is that it includes almost every scene and almost every line of dialogue in the book, and somehow manages to fit it all into 100 minutes. There are a couple of scenes in the book that don’t appear in the movie, but the biggest element in the book that is not included in the movie could best be described as “eroticism.” Indeed, it seems like a major role in the book is played by “sexual dimorphism.”
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While Bogart was good he didn’t seem to fit the book description of Spade. But whatevers.
I loved the book and the movie is one of my all time favorites.
I do think Bogart is a better fit for Chandler’s Philip Marlowe.
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While I was reading descriptions in the book, I kept thinking Sterling Hayden ca 1955 would be a good fit for the character’s size and attitude. Although his face would be the wrong shape.
I’ve heard that. I guess I’m more of a Marlowe guy.
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I’m reading The Myth Of The Exploding Teeth by Thomas Morris. When I read about this on ArsTechnica, I knew I had to have it, if only for learning proper technique:
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The gall of some people.
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Not France, the bladder!
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Knowledge is Power.
France is Bacon.
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So, I am familiar with a couple of the Hugo nominees this year. More than usual.
As someone else pointed out, the Best Novel list seems designed to make Puppies quite sad indeed.
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