The Transgressors by Jim Thompson

by Jim Thompson

On the day he accidentally killed Aaron McBride, Tom Lord went from being a sheriff's deputy to a man awaiting execution. Because if the law didn't punish him, his victim's widow--or his shadowy business associates--surely would.

Genres: Fiction, Noir, Crime, Mystery, Pulp, Novels, Mystery Thriller

Paperback

First published January 1, 1961

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name. See this thread for more information.

James Myers Thompson was a United States writer of novels, short stories and screenplays, largely in the hardboiled style of crime fiction.

Thompson wrote more than thirty novels, the majority of which were original paperback publications by pulp fiction houses, from the late-1940s through mid-1950s. Despite some positive critical notice, notably by Anthony Boucher in the New York Times, he was little-recognized in his lifetime. Only after death did Thompson's literary stature grow, when in the late 1980s, several novels were re-published in the Black Lizard series of re-discovered crime fiction.

Thompson's writing culminated in a few of his best-regarded works: The Killer Inside Me, Savage Night, A Hell of a Woman and Pop. 1280. In these works, Thompson turned the derided pulp genre into literature and art, featuring unreliable narrators, odd structure, and surrealism.

The writer R.V. Cassills has suggested that of all pulp fiction, Thompson's was the rawest and most harrowing; that neither Dashiell Hammett nor Raymond Chandler nor even Horace McCoy, author of the bleak They Shoot Horses, Don't They?, ever "wrote a book within miles of Thompson". Similarly, in the introduction to Now and on Earth, Stephen King says he most admires Thompson's work because "The guy was over the top. The guy was absolutely over the top. Big Jim didn't know the meaning of the word stop. There are three brave lets inherent in the forgoing: he let himself see everything, he let himself write it down, then he let himself publish it."

Thompson admired Fyodor Dostoevsky and was nicknamed "Dimestore Dostoevsky" by writer Geoffrey O'Brien. Film director Stephen Frears, who directed an adaptation of Thompson's The Grifters as 1990's The Grifters, also identified elements of Greek tragedy in his themes.

Reviews

[WJEP · Rating 5 out of 5]

How does Deppity Tom Lord differ from Thompson's other two West Texas lawmen, Lou Ford (The Killer Inside Me) and Nick Corey (Pop. 1280)? Tom Lord is not a total psychopath like the other two. He is educated, irreverant, and incorrigible. Tom tries to fit in with the other fellas: "Won’t stand out no more’n a fly turd in a box of pepper." The Transgressors was written inbetween those two better-known books. The writing is just as good -- maybe better. The plot is more complicated -- maybe too complicated.

[Dave · Rating 4 out of 5]

First published in 1961 by Signet, Thompson, in part, reprises his Sheriff Lou Ford theme with his main character here being Deputy Sheriff Tom Lord, who came from a well-to-do old Texas family in fictional Big Sands, Texas, and had been at medical school, but had to return home and lost part of himself. Taking a job as a deputy, Lord had to do what he had to do to fit in and that often meant dumbing-down so no one knew just how smart he was. His story though as he tells it took a turn when one Aaron McBride acting as an agent for money folks swindled him out of the oil under his property. He never forgot and one day kicked McBride all over town until McBride was nothing more than a shadow of a man. 

The story opens some time thereafter as Deputy Lord takes a ride in his convertible with Joyce Lakewood, the local prostitute, who he likes, although she knows he will never marry her, no man would with her past. But Joyce is no fool. She knows Lord is not a rube even though he offers a lot of cornball talk. and sounds like a character in a third-rate movie. But that is part of the story how Lord is hiding inside this cornball outer shell and so little of him pokes out, “blindly, bitterly striking back at the world he could not change.” Lord knows it is too late to leave west Texas, but disliked his existence here. He felt as if he did not have the free will to leave.

One thing leads to another and McBride ends up rather dead. Lord did not mean to kill McBride and really is not sure if he did so. Joyce is almost the only witness and she jokes that they better get married because a woman can’t testify against her own husband and he jokes back that she can’t testify if she’s dead.

What makes the story so interesting is how odd Lord is out here under the far-west Texas sky and how he deals with things such as injecting McBride’s widow with something to knock her out and then dressing her in his mother’s negligee. The whole thing is so outside of normal. Lord might seem crazy to an outsider, but he had his own way of doing things and disarming people.

Thompson has a real knack for creating surprising characters who do not fit in with their outward personas and Deputy Lord is one of them. Thompson also quietly fills this novel with quite a bit of action and drama to be one of his more underrated novels.

[Jake · Rating 4 out of 5]

The dregs of Jim Thompson's catalog have produced mostly duds. This is one of the few exceptions and while it's not an undiscovered classic, it's a fun, streamlined crime story in its own right. Set in Thompson's familiar rural Texas, it involves criminals and aspiring criminals trying to leap on the backs of others in order to improve their station in life. Not one of his best but again, considering how many bad ones I've read from him this year, it's much better than most. 

[Andy · Rating 4 out of 5]

My dad used to hire this handyman out in Palm Springs who was from Texas or Arkansas and was kinda the stoic, surly type who quietly hated city people and used good, common horse sense in figuring people out. When he perspired he smelled like Kentucky sour mash and you never felt comfortable around him because he wasn't smart enough to be subtle in his hatred of people in general.

Tom Lord, the main character in "The Transgressors" is exactly that kind of asshole. There are lots of creeps like him in real life, and Jim Thompson excellently hits the nail on the head at describing this kind of shithead in perfect detail. Imagine a Gary Cooper-type meat puppet with one eye trained on your neck and his putty knife in his other sights. That's the kind of creep this book is written about.

[John Bowie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Seeing The Transgressors in a local 2nd hand bookshop - I knew this wasn't Thompson's highest rated or well known. I took a chance on it anyway. The black Lizard press has a vintage feel to it that suits the story to a tee; made it stand out on the shelves.

There's a dark balance of unpredictability and atypical lines to this that made it feel a possible reality somewhere to me. I enjoyed the ride - not sure what violence, character or act was to played out at each turn of the page.

Paul D Brazill said my own writing made me a British blend of Jim Thompson and Nelson Algren. So, I wanted to check out a lesser known of his works. I'm glad and honored I did.

As Stephen King said, 'Big Jim didn't know the meaning of the word stop'.

[notgettingenough · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant. And it even has a oh, sorry. I really can't say. You'll just have to read the book.

[Alec Cizak · Rating 3 out of 5]

Old Jim Thompson never met an adverb he didn't like. As with all things historical, we must take into consideration the fact that Stephen King's anti-adverb manifesto had not been written at the time Jim Thompson was writing so, can we judge him for his overuse of adverbs? Only if we're halfwits...

I give this book three stars because it's a little uneven and drags at a few points. This book was (I believe) written around the same time as Thompson's masterpiece, Pop. 1280, so it's confusing to me as to how he could have written a less-than-gripping book at the same time. I would also say things seem a little lazy in this one. Whereas his conflicted, possibly insane protagonists in previous books were very well-drawn, Tom Lord, the protagonist in this book, is never fully articulated in terms of personality. Halfway through, he suddenly reveals to us that he's got two personalities. Also, for a Jim Thompson book, the end is surprisingly optimistic.

Another issue I had with this book was the constant switching of POVs. Did writers pay strict attention to POV back then? I think so. I don't think there's an excuse for the sloppiness here. This was written late in Thompson's career as a writer and I get the feeling he just threw it out there without much consideration.

All that said, it's still a Jim Thompson book which means we still get his sense of humor and little social observations sprinkled in throughout that are, to this day, quite accurate.

I would only recommend this one to Jim Thompson fans looking to make sure they've read the entire library. If you have not read any of his books before, start with Pop. 1280 and see where that takes you.

[Chilly SavageMelon · Rating 2 out of 5]

Maybe C McCarthy has taken over my mental Texas landscape, but Thompson comes off as thin. I need to check out 'The Killer Inside Me' or whatever is considered to be "The Thompson" to read, because my experiments so far have me thinking he's rather weak. Even within the genre, James Ellroy or Elmore Leonard write circles around this guy. Maybe that's unfair because Thompson came first. Maybe it's also unfair having read the bio 'Savage Art', because whenever things start breaking down with the obvious plot twists and thin characters, I picture an Oklahoma born miserable drunk pecking away at just a few more keys between sips. And believe me, I have no issue with drunken writers. But Bukowski, Chandler, Hemingway - they all keep me more engaged/entertained.
I appreciate what Thompson is trying to portray, but the sadism just comes off as crass bullying, the chauvanism never backed up by anything. You'd really have to hunt to find more implausible or despised female characters. It's as if he has no real love for ANY of his own characters, good bad or otherwise. Philip Dick or J G Ballard, for example, might use paper thin characters at times to unroll their plots...but they somehow get the job done better than this.
When my mind walks onto "Thompson's set", usually within the first act I want yell "This is unrealistic AND dull. You're all fired, go home! And get the f-ing writer dried out again!" And yet there were enough substantial passages here and there that pulled me in enough to get the second star...

[Jayaprakash Satyamurthy · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is the third novel by Thompson that I've read, and one that I must conclude was written during his decline. Most of the plot elements feel like a hodge-podge of The Killer Inside Me and The Getaway. While both those novels had moments where the scale shifted, where certain observations and statements brought in a larger, if still very dark perspective, this one felt cramped and suffocating in its sordidness. Plot developments seemed to happen more or less at random and while some of the supporting characters are depicted in s great deal of detail, it feels like padding rather than insight. This was a sad example of how badly a talent can unravel, but I'm determined to continue sifting through Thompson's work for the good stuff.

[Guillermo Galvan · Rating 3 out of 5]

I thought I was reading one of Thompson's early books. The perspective changed awkwardly, clunky character sketches were used in place of authentic development, and weak scenes hurt this book. I figured he was still getting his feet planted. But, no, it's one of his later works and definitely one his lazier ones. Perhaps he needed whisky money?

The story is enjoyable if you're willing to overlook these bad elements. At least his voice and style are present.

[Todd · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is a sharp kick to the nuts.

Thompson's prose is brutal. He'll make you love the guy who's willing to beat a person to death out of principle.

This starts pretty rough. It has elements that someone who read The Killer Inside Me would recognize. It seems like it's going to be just the same as that but after about a fifth of the book it becomes a bit more apparent that this is going to be it's own story.

This is a book for people who think Hammett or Chandler were wimps.

[Gavin Armour · Rating 4 out of 5]

Der Deputy-Sheriff eines westtexanischen Kleinstkaffs, Tom Lord, tötet – vielleicht mit Absicht, vielleicht aus Versehen, vielleicht auch gar nicht selbst – seinen Widersacher Aaron McBride, den Vorarbeiter einer Ölgesellschaft, die Lord um die Erträge seines ererbten Landes gebracht hat. Da die ganze Gesellschaft lediglich eine Strohfirma ist, eine Geldwaschanlage, in die Kunden aus dem ganzen Land ihre geheimen Ersparnisse tragen, stehen beim örtlichen Verbindungsmann des Syndikats, Pellino, bald eben diese Kunden auf der Matte und machen Druck. Weder können sie Unruhe, noch polizeiliche Untersuchungen und gleich gar keine unerklärbaren Leichen in der Gegend gebrauchen. Als dann die Witwe des verstorbenen Vorarbeiters, Donna McBride, auftaucht, erklärtermaßen, um den Mörder ihres Gatten zu töten, verdichten sich die für Lord zunächst übersichtlichen Verwicklungen zu einem nahezu tödlichen Gewebe – und er ist für ein jede der Spinnen im Netz genau die Beute, die sie braucht…

Tobias Gohlis beginnt sein Nachwort mit dem Hinweis, daß es schiene, als wolle Jim Thompson mit seinem immerhin 19. Roman noch einmal neu beginnen, einen Neustart wagen. Folgt man Gohlis´ wie immer lesenswertem Essay, deutet vieles darauf hin, daß dem auch genau so war, standen doch Veränderungen, Verbesserungen an im Leben des überzeugten Sozialisten, harten Trinkers, gnadenlosen Pessimisten mit misantrophen Zügen und Autoren mit genialischen Zügen. Und wie es mehr Licht in seinem Alltag zu geben schien, so ließ er seinen Figuren mehr Licht, mehr Raum zum Atmen denn je. Unter dem endlosen westtexanischen Himmel, in der Hitze des Mittags, wird der Einzelne derart klein, daß er im grellen Licht fast verschwindet. In Thompsons Romanen bleicht die Sonne immer auch ein imaginäres Skelett am Wegesrand aus. Hier aber ist das Offene des Raums auch Chance, Möglichkeit der Einkehr, Umkehr und Gnade – wie des exakten Gegenteils. Gohlis weist auf die Namensähnlichkeit zwischen dem hier beschriebenen Helden Tom Lord und jenem Psychopathen Lou Ford, der dem aufmerksamen Thompson-Leser bereits in verschiedenen Inkarnationen in den Romanen THE KILLER INSIDE ME (1952) und WILD TOWN (1957) begegnet ist, hin und auch darauf, daß beide – da THE TRANSGRESSORS (dt. „die etwas Übertreten“; „Missetäter“ - so der Originaltitel des vorliegenden Bandes) ein Auftragswerk war, änderte Thompson den Namen erst spät, ursprünglich hätte man es hier also mit einem dritten Lou Ford zu tun gehabt – in ihrem eingebildeten oder ausgelebten, zweifellos aber vorhandenen Sadismus dem Sheriff aus dem später entstandenen Werk POP. 1280 (1964) ähneln, gewissermaßen sind alle Figuren Behandlungen ein und desselben Themas. Genau daran kann man die Idee des Neuanfangs gut festmachen. Wirklich hat der Leser es hier ausnahmsweise einmal mit jemandem bei Thompson zu tun, der wohl hart mit sich ins Gericht geht und die eigenen Gedankenwelt, die lediglich als für die Mitmenschen manchmal zu grimmiger Humor nach außen dringt, zweifelnd in Frage stellt, sich durchaus auch fragt, ob alles mit ihm stimmt, der aber zugleich als moralisches, empathisches Wesen dargestellt wird, welches in der Lage ist, sich zu zügeln, die Kontrolle zu behalten. Diesem Mann mag der Leser glauben, daß die Rangelei mit McBride möglicherweise nicht nur ein Unfall, sondern sogar ein forcierter Selbstmord war. MacBride ist sich seiner Verwicklung in den miesen Betrug vollauf bewußt, in seiner finanziellen wie seelischen Not aber willens, dafür einzustehen und nötigenfalls auch mit unlauteren Mitteln um einen Vorteil zu kämpfen, den er sich bereits mit unlauteren Mitteln erwirkt hat. Dieser McBride ist ein zerstörter Mann, seit Lord ihn – mit einer geringfügigen Begründung, die sich ein Polizist in Texas schnell ausdenken kann – derart zusammengeschlagen hat, daß sein Wille gebrochen ist. Ein Mann ohne Lebenswillen in der Weite der texanischen Einöde – nutzlos. Warum nicht als letzten Akt ein Selbstmord, der wie ein Tötungsdelikt wirken muß, zumal Lord ja ein passendes Motiv gehabt hätte?

Thompson gibt sich als allwissender Erzähler und führt uns so – eher eine Seltenheit in seinem Kosmos – in die Innenwelt gleich mehrerer Personen ein, was diese auf andere Art als sonst beim Autor vielschichtig und ambivalent macht und keineswegs so verdammenswert erscheinen läßt, wie der deutsche Titel es suggeriert. Es gelingt Thompson, eine enorme Tragik zu beschwören, die er mit der ihm eigenen Lakonie entfaltet, die sich abspult mit der gnadenlosen Gleichgültigkeit eines Uhrwerks und in der die Schicksale der Menschen vollkommen gleichgültig anmuten, was im Text bei allem schwarzen Humor, den Thompson immer bietet, eine tiefe Traurigkeit hinterlässt. Gerade weil Thompson gewillt scheint, anders an die Sache heranzugehen, positiver, tritt diese Traurigkeit umso stärker hervor. Ob McBride oder Tom Lord, ob Buck - ein weiterer Deputy-Sheriff - , ob Joyce - eine Prostituierte, die den falschen Leuten zur falschen Zeit als der richtige Köder erscheint - , ob Donna oder gar die „Kunden“, die sich bei Pellino einfinden – Thompson schildert sie alle als Getriebene, als Opfer eines Systems, eines gnadenlosen Uhrwerks, das mechanisch funktioniert in der ewigen, endlos weiten Einöde West-Texas´ und das eigentlich gar keine Menschen braucht. Es generiert sich aus sich selbst. Amerika am Ausgang der prosperierenden 1950er Jahre, jenes Jahrzehnts, das doch angeblich allgemeinen Wohlstand generiert hat: Ein Land, der sich verselbstständigenden Systeme, ein Land, das Institutionen hervorbringt, die Menschen obsolet machen.

Die Steppe, die Wüste, über deren Fläche hinweg es Buck gelingt, Kilometer entfernt seine Widersacher zu beobachten, die mit der Offenheit aber eben auch keine Deckung, keinen Schatten, keine Wärme bietet, steht eben auch als Sinnbild dieser Mechanik. Nichts passt eher in dieses Bild, als die Reihen sich immer gleich hebender und senkender Bohrpumpenköpfe. Die Kehrseite des Offenen: Der Mensch kann dort verschwinden, nahezu unbemerkt untergehen. Alle die oben Genannten sind den Regeln und Gesetzen der tödlichen Mechanik der Wüste unterworfen. Wer in diesem System – ob im Klein-Klein eines Städtchens oder auf der großen Bühne der Konzerne und Syndikate – nicht funktioniert, sich gar widersetzt, wird gnadenlos eliminiert. Da kommt der Sozialist, der marxistisch Geschulte im Autor um Vorschein. Nur Pellino, der ist ein ewiger Nutznießer jeglicher Krisen und wird von Thompson dann auch – Strafe muß sein in einem Roman, der sich um weitaus mehr ausgleichende Gerechtigkeit für die Figuren bemüht, als Thompson diesen ansonsten widerfahren läßt – einem einer Schlange angemessenen Ende zugeführt.

Das Öl ist im Boden, den Boden penetrieren Maschinen, was unter der Oberfläche gärt, wird Stück für Stück, Tonne für Tonne, hervorgezerrt. Doch Thompson, ganz Dialektiker, weiß, daß sich seine Analyse dem Leser emotional erfahrbar machen muß, es braucht eine Entsprechung. Und so zerrt Donna Stück für Stück den Teil von Tom Lord an die Oberfläche, der sich innerlich in einem ununterbrochenen Strafgericht befindet und nun erstmals auf den Prüfstand einer Realität gestellt wird, die an ihm als Mensch interessiert ist. Alle anderen brauchen ihn nur als Stand-In: als Motiv, als Leiche, als Täter, als Versorger, als Stellvertreter, der das eigene Leben vereinfacht, als Sündenbock für Konkretes und Latentes; Donna ist die erste, die Tom Lord als er selbst zu sehen scheint, obwohl er mit ihr ständig Spielchen des Verstellens spielt – ob als Arzt, als der er sich ausgibt, als Macho, der er nicht (wirklich) ist oder als Wahnsinniger, der droht, sie eiskalt und skrupellos zu töten. Diesem Gesehen-Werden steht Lord, die Umgebung, Umwelt gewohnt, die Thompson uns mit wenigen, aber starken Strichen skizziert, zunächst mißtrauisch gegenüber. Und zugleich fällt es ihm zunehmend schwerer, sich der bedrängenden Gedanken und Ideen zu erwehren, geht er innerlich immer härter mit sich ins Gericht, um sich selbst Kompaß zu bleiben.

Thompson gesteht einem potentiell Wahnsinnigen zu, seinen Wahnsinn zu erkennen und zu kontrollieren. Wenn Lou Ford in THE KILLER INSIDE ME eine Studie über den Wahn als tödliches charakterliches Muster und darüber ist, wie die Gesellschaft, die Gemeinschaften, die Thompsons Kleinstadtnester immer sind, sich täuschen läßt, möglicherweise täuschen lassen will, um sich eben dieser Psychopathen im richtigen Moment zu bedienen; wenn mit Nick Corey aus POP. 1280 beschrieben wird, wie sich dieser Wahn verfestigt und zu einem gesellschaftlichen Muster und schließlich zu gesellschaftlicher Erosion werden kann, dann stellt Tom Lord in THE TRANSGRESSORS vielleicht so etwas wie die Utopie dieser Figur dar: Hier wird der mögliche Wahn, der bei Thompson immer mit Gewalt einhergeht, nicht ausgespielt, er findet in der Phantasie statt; wenn überhaupt, bricht er in einem gesellschaftlich sanktionierten Rahmen als Polizist oder in Notwehr aus. Tom Lord ist sozusagen die positive Interpretation der Figur, deren dunkle und düster-faschistoide Seiten Ford und Corey sind, ohne diese Seite zu ignorieren oder gar in Abrede zu stellen. Vom Wesen her sind die Lou Fords, Nick Corey und Tom Lord durchaus verwandt. Sie stellen lediglich unterschiedliche Modelle dar, wie man mit dem eigenen Wahn umgehen kann. Abgründig, gewalttätig und bereit zum Bösen sind diese Männer aber alle.

THE TRANSGRESSORS fällt aus dem Thompson´schen Rahmen und stellt eigentlich genau damit – dem Bruch mit der höchst eigenen Konvention des Autors – einen „typischen“ Jim-Thompson-Roman dar. Der Leser begibt sich auf eine höchst gefährliche Tour in die amerikanische Provinz, wo das, was sich in den Großstädten verklausuliert Bahn bricht, noch ungeschminkt existieren kann. In Big Sands, wie jenes Kaff heißt, dessen Deputy-Amt Tom Lord bekleidet, in Big Sands ist man elend weit weg von Gott und dem Rest der Welt und sehr nah an einem der eher düsteren Merkmale, die Amerika im Innersten zusammenhalten. Und noch näher ist man am Wesen dessen, was Menschen werden, wenn man sie aller Möglichkeiten der Camouflage beraubt hat. Die nackte Kreatur. Thompson ist ein Meister dieses Schreckens.

[Kurt Reichenbaugh · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's really between 3 and 4 stars on this one. It's a sunnier version of Pop. 1280 or The Killer Inside Me. Both of those are better books so I'd say read those first. Here you have Tom Lord, deputy sheriff in another west Texas town who, Like Lou Ford and Nick Corey in the other books mentioned, plays a cornpone goober for the locals to mask a cynical and dark intelligence. The difference here is that Tom Lord isn't a psychopath like Ford and Corey. He's dangerous enough but knows when to temper his demons. His "backstreet" girlfriend is the local prostitute named Joyce. She figures that Lord has come from a background high enough to free her from hooking for a living. Of course, Lord ain't having it. She's just fine for a roll, but marriage is out of the question. The setup in this book is that Lord is ripped off by the representative of an oil company that's been taken over by mobsters. After accidentally killing the oil rep, Lord goes underground, so to speak, to hide out from both the law and the mobsters. It gets a bit confusing and, while it all starts off well enough for a noir novel, slides into a talky patchwork of character studies. It wasn't bad, but it's not quite the Jim Thompson that you hear about from noir fans. Originally published in 1961 you feel that Thompson is rewriting this one from earlier, more savage novels.

[Michael Patton · Rating 3 out of 5]

Literary fiction? I don't know. I read this novel several years ago, while standing up in a university bookstore during my lunch hour. I must admit I don't remember it so well. I do recall being a little disappointed. Well, I probably didn't get the best Thompson novel. But it was the only one on the shelf. Anyway, I'm glad I got this taste. But I wished I'd picked a different novel--something that said: this is why we should read this guy.

[Harold · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was pretty forgettable. None of the characters were particularly interesting or likeable and the story just seemed to meander along with a few arbitrary twists here and there. I’ve got a few more Jim Thompson books on my shelf still to read and hopefully they’re better than this one.

[C. McGee · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thompson always keeps you off balance.

[A · Rating 4 out of 5]

Already read - years ago. Crikey!

[Freddie the Know-it-all · Rating 1 out of 5]

Disappointed

What a crap ending!

[Pamela · Rating 4 out of 5]

Not one of Thomason’s best, but even when he’s not great, he’s very, very good.

[Gonzalo Oyanedel · Rating 2 out of 5]

Un Thompson menor. Bien escrito e insolente, pero opaco frente a otros de sus trabajos.

[Bob Mackey · Rating 2 out of 5]

I've been slowly crawling through Thompson's bibliography over the past few years, so I'm getting a good idea of how the quality of his work could fluctuate. Unfortunately, The Trangressors might be his most disposable, forgettable book next to The Alcoholics—but at least the latter has the distinction of being a comedy. That isn't to say The Transgressors is completely awful, though; it's just incredibly rote for Thompson. Protagonist Lou Ford returns from the Killer Inside Me, here disguised as "Tom Lord" to avoid conflicts with a possible film adaptation of that novel (which wouldn't be made until 2009).

But none of the meaningfulness of TKIM can be found in The Transgressors, which originally existed in failed screenplay format before a post-rehab Thompson salvaged it for the sake of a new book. And it reads like salvage, too, though it's refreshing to know this novel didn't spell the complete end of Thompson—he'd go on to write my favorite of his novels, Pop. 1280, just a few years later.

[Kurt · Rating 3 out of 5]

Jim Thompson is always worth the time. However, some of his books hit the ribs and torso stronger than others. While I enjoyed this one while reading it, the afterglow was briefer than classics like THE GRIFTERS, THE KILLER INSIDE, and AFTER DARK, MY SWEET. The morally ambivalent main character, while enjoyable, isn't quite as sharply etched as others by Thompson but was still a good ride. The classic Thompson trait of people doomed to play out the cards dealt to them is in abundant and fun evidence here. The supporting characters aren't quite up to classic either though I would like to have spent more time with the shy toothy deputy than some of the others. Good but others are better.

[Kevin Kern · Rating 2 out of 5]

Definitely not one of his better novels. The first half is great, as it focuses on the different threads that make up the Highland Corporation, but the second half is such a slog; I was so tired of the romance between Tom and Donna. Just wasn't convincing. It's telling that I was more interested in the inter-novel linkage that Joyce Lakewood's murder added (and I realize she's Joyce Lakeland in 'The Killer Inside Me') than the actual implications of her death in this novel. Sub-par Thompson overall, but there are a few exquisite passages.

[Andrew · Rating 2 out of 5]

I've enjoyed Thompson's books before, but I couldn't engage with "The Transgressors". The plot felt floaty, the characters roughly drawn. The final forty pages saw it hang together a little more succinctly, but by that stage it had become merely a page turner and that wasn't enough. Lord is a typical Thompson protagonist, but his shifts in attitude felt more like a device rather than anything firm in character (and the twang of his language was kinda annoying). One of those books which feels like a chore rather than a pleasure even when enjoying it.

[Camille · Rating 1 out of 5]

i liked the language of the characters. there isn't enough character development or story development. you don't really know why any of the characters do what the do or why they are even friends with the main character...it was a very quick read...might be open to reading one of thompson's more popular works.

[Kirk Smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

Among the Thompson's that I still need to read this was considered the lowest rated. So the news is there is no such thing as a bad one by this guy. Rather funny though ,everyone will always go for my least favorite: The Killer Inside Me before all others. Dwoh!

[Lynn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Seemed like very familiar ingredients for a Jim Thompson story: trickster law-enforcement protagonist with a floozie girlfriend. Been there and loved it, but this one turned out all kinds of different! I love being surprised.

[Jack Fenner · Rating 2 out of 5]

Half the book was ok by Thompson standards, but the other half was awful. Never really got into it in the second part of the book.

[Michael P. · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not bad, but not one of Thompson's more memorable novels.

[Ace McGee · Rating 2 out of 5]

Pure pulp. Just trash. But there’s something to be said for trash, if you’re in the right mood!