Set in the U.S. during the final months of WWII, this story of murder reflects the racism, anti-Semitism, and homophobia of the times. The main characters are a group of soldiers coping with the frustration, boredom, and disgrace of serving stateside while other men are over in Europe and the Pacific, killing the enemy.
Brooks wrote the novel while serving stateside during the war in the Marine film corp. He claimed to have based the story on conversations he heard amongst his fellow Marines.
This novel was the turned into the 1947 film noir movie "Crossfire" starring Robert Young, Robert Ryan, and Robert Mitchum, where the motivation for murder was changed from gay bashing to anti-Semitism.
Before Richard Brooks became one of Hollywood's grittiest directors and screenwriters, he wrote a handful of novels, one of which (this one) became the great motion picture CROSSFIRE, a fine film noir which also was a landmark in the movies' treatment of anti-semitism. Brooks's novel differs considerably from the film in a number of ways, most prominently in that the victim of the central murder around which the story revolves is a homosexual in the book rather than the Jew of the movie. Brooks's novel is darker even than the movie, which is pretty dark on its own. In the book, there is a greater opportunity to explore the psyche of each character, and Brooks does so brilliantly through a technique I've not encountered before in quite this approach. Much of the story is told through the thoughts of the characters, often switching from one character's thoughts to another's and back on a single page. While murder is at the heart of the story, Brooks's interest expands beyond the melodramatics of the crime to the hearts of the people caught up in the events, with special attention paid to the crushing loneliness, ennui, and seeming meaninglessness of the lives of wartime soldiers in safe but dull stateside billets. The brick foxhole of the title describes the difficulty of serving in safety and civilized surroundings, but without the comforts of either family or the sensation that one participates in the great crusade underway in combat zones around the world. Drudgery, empty tasks, and a yearning to be where "real" soldiers are fighting a "real" war deplete the emotional reserves of several of the characters in this truly fine novel, and loneliness, rumor, and suspicion eat at the souls of the principals. Brooks is also deeply attentive to the prejudices and hate that fester among men, especially men whom the war has forced into more socially diverse situations and surroundings than they are familiar or comfortable with. Brooks writes with splendid poetry, even when the thoughts he explores are base or crude or cruel. Yet, ultimately, his story reveals a great faith in man's better angels and resolves with a thrilling suggestion that goodness, honor, loyalty, and faith in one's fellows will conquer the darkness. This is a splendid, all-too-short novel.
I'm always interested to see how queerness is handled in older books. And this one being written in the 1940s by someone in the Marines definitely added to its intriguing factor. I decided to seek this out while reading Sick and Dirty: Hollywood’s Gay Golden Age and the Making of Modern Queerness and learning about how the queer content of the book was removed from the 1947 film adaptation called Crossfire.
I think it's pretty impressive how this book from the 40s is about how bigoted and dangerous members of the military can be. And how boredom and hatred can lead them to committing violent acts. There's definitely a lot of language that wouldn't be used so liberally in a book today. But the main characters and heroes of the book are fighting against the bigotry.
for a book so full of mean-spirited, small-minded characters, this one did a pretty good job being the opposite of those things. by no means an easy read, at least for me ; i was incredibly tense during the few scenes which featured mr. edwards, and a lot of the book felt almost surprisingly psychological, a lot of hopping around through people's minds while they thought deeply about either the war or joe dimaggio's batting average. interesting to note that though the film adaptation changed the central murder from a gay man to a jewish one, the meeting between hapless jeff mitchell and the man in question felt a lot gayer in the film.
Beautifully written, though at times full of despair and nihilism. It lacks the morality framing the film adaptation of it, "Cross-Fire," but that's not a bad thing.
An excellent book full of racism, and homophobia. What makes it so good is the realism with which it depicts the characters of the day. I especially loved the ending.
Crossfire (1947) is a movie that really took me by surprise and gave me a lot to think about after I first watched it just over a year ago. I watch a lot of film noir but something about this one in particular intrigued me to no end, and this is maybe the first time a movie has ever directly inspired me to read its source material: The Brick Foxhole (1945). This was a surprisingly easy read despite the heavy subject matter, but it got even easier midway through when the actual central plotline/conflict gets going. The first half was mostly just sort of setting up characters and having you get to know them, largely through their internal monologues but also some brief interpersonal interactions. While there is sort of a protagonist here that much of the action hinges off of--Jeff Mitchell--the narrative never stays focused on any one character for very long, which is one of the things I also loved about the film.
My Letterboxd review for the film unexpectedly had me going on and on which I find I could also do for the book, for different reasons as they definitely differ in many ways, not least because of Hollywood censors at the time having to "tone down" the content of the book by switching the movie version's hate crime motivation to antisemitism rather than the homophobia and racism that feature more heavily in the book. I'm excited to rewatch the film now that I've read the book, to refresh my mind and compare the two. It's interesting that the book and the film each have their own separate, climactic, philosophical monologues of sorts that, in my opinion, take some of the air out of the plot rather than enhancing it. I will say I was almost mad at the book's ending, it seemed to stop so abruptly on an unexpected note. There was a climactic scene that felt overdramatic or unnecessary, or at least that needed some form of closure that is ultimately never delivered. I'm all for ambiguity and not having to spell everything out on the page, but it felt like the ending left way too many loose threads hanging.
I don't know. I didn't hate it by any means, and while there were a few passages that made me wonder, is this how some men really think?? there were also some passages that were even beautiful and funny or endearing or thought-provoking, and I definitely cared about these characters by the end which is why I wanted more closure for certain ones. One thing that really stands out about the way the book is written is its constant undercurrent of empathy. Because it focuses heavily on the characters' thoughts/internal monologues, it presents so many different points of view objectively, laying a lot of hateful language and opinions and twisted logic on the page from various characters, and a lot of doubt and flaws are present in even its most kindhearted or open-minded characters. And in a way, besides its surface messages of the danger of hate and prejudice that exists in everyday people, its central theme is the profound human condition of loneliness and the need and desire for intimate connection, which seems to be the common theme in many of my favorite stories in books and film.
If it wasn’t for the 1947 film “Crossfire,” the 1945 novel “The Brick Foxhole” would have long since been forgotten. But “Crossfire” was probably the first American film to deal with anti-Semitism, beating out by months the release of “Gentlemen’s Agreement.” “Crossfire” has remained a fine example of film noir, dealing with the murder of a Jewish man who befriends WWII American soldiers on weekend leave from their Virginia Army base in his Washington DC apartment. One of the three soldiers, Mitchell, leaves the party to find female companionship but is later tagged as the murderer by his bigoted friend Monty who actually committed the murder with another soldier. “Crossfire” received five Academy Award nominations including Best Picture. The film’s plot hews closely to the Richard Brooks novel on which it is based with the notable difference that the novel’s murder victim is gay, a victim of gay bashing, rather than Jewish. (Film production codes of the forties would not allow mention of homosexuals.) The bigoted killer soldier Monty is an equal opportunity hater, spewing venom for gays, Jews, the Irish and blacks with a sadistic zeal (captured perfectly by Robert Ryan in the film version). Brooks, who would go on to write two other novels and become a major film producer/director/screenwriter, captures the loneliness, tedium and frustration of soldiers on weekend leave. From cabbies to female office workers to prostitutes to wives left behind, Brooks shows versatility and insight with his microcosm of DC weekend nightlife during the war when the city was teeming with soldiers seeking escape from the tension of waiting deployment. “They were coming to D.C. for the same purpose: to drink the same drinks, rent the same hotel rooms, eat from the same white tableclothes, see the same movies, attend the same amusements, and solace the same loneliness, the same boredom, the same pent-up tensions and frustrations in the same catharsis of sexual adventure. And their disappointments in these adventures were also the same.” Though poorly titled, Richard Brooks’ “The Brick Foxhole” holds up as an important novel of World War II.
A “brick foxhole” is a disparaging name for the barracks that house soldiers serving stateside during WWII. Richard Brooks’s novel of the same name (with “The” added to the title), uses this setting of seething insecurities, self-loathing, guilt, and viciousness to unearth the vile underbelly of bigotry of all stripes infecting Americans. In these close quarters of the brick foxhole, where men are stripped of dignity and individuality, Brooks reveals a side of America that never seems to show up in wartime propaganda films touting this country’s cornering the market on freedom, integrity, and equality. Not all his characters are outright bigots against blacks, Jews, homosexuals, and women. Yet those who aren’t struggle, often ineffectually, against those who spew their viciousness, or put it into action. Brook’s novel isn’t a blanket condemnation of his country, but a challenge not to believe defeating the Axis ends intolerance and injustice. There’s plenty to go around here – not just from the Southern crackers but the jocose citizens who mouth patriotism, while laughingly, or even matter of factly, degrading women, blacks, Jews, and gays. Wrapping around a murder his brutal portrayal of society's corruption, Brooks does conclude the book with hope. Still, it’s a hope that won’t let its characters or readers forget that we must continuously fight others’ ignorance and our own fears to have justice at home, as we once fought fiercely against the Axis. Equally important, Brooks brings home that hope for our country and ourselves comes with painful, even mortal, costs.
This novel takes us into the lives and minds of a group of soldiers based just outside Washington D.C. during World War II. They’re all miserable in one way or another, and we hear all about it. There’s very little plot. A gay man is murdered by a homophobic soldier and another soldier is accused of the crime, so his friends try to prove his innocence, but the murder doesn’t even happen until the book is well past the mid-point. Up until then it’s all character development and long tangents about the way of the world and how awful people are to each other and in general. This was Richard Brooks’ first novel, and I get the feeling he was trying to cram every idea he’d ever had about life and society and human nature into it, and he damn near succeeded. None of the main characters are likable or sympathetic, even the ones who are supposed to be, and the ones who aren’t supposed to be are so over-the-top evil that they’re almost ridiculous. The killer, for instance, is a virulent racist who verbally denigrates Blacks and Jews constantly (so of course the n-word is used throughout the book). Ostensibly an attack on racism and antisemitism and homophobia, the book nonetheless has stereotypical Jewish and gay characters who, while they may have been progressive when the book came out in 1945, are now just stereotypes. The book was the basis for a classic film noir called Crossfire, with the gay victim changed to be Jewish, and I personally would recommend the movie over the book. Unless you’re really in the mood to simmer in a pot of bile and misery by spending time in these minds of these very unhappy people, that is.
The source of one of my favorite film noirs, Crossfire. Amazing at how faithful the film is to the book with two major exceptions: the ending and the reason for the murder. In the book, it's homophobia, but for some reason, the film changed it to anti-semitism. The book does go into lots of soul searching and interior monologues by the characters, discussing the war, relationships, and prejudices. A good luck at wartime Washington D.C., but the sermonizing and self analysis does get a bit heavy and overdone at times.
4.5 Stars - Disjointed at times but what a thrilling read! I loved Crossfire and had to read the book the movie came from and was pleasantly surprised. There was so much we could have had in Crossfire if it wasn’t for the production code. Anyway, I highly recommend this book for all noir and WWII literature enthusiasts.
So many words, so much style, absolutely brutal to get through. Men having masculinity crises in excruciating, overdone detail is not my cup of tea at all.