To everyone he's every played dice with, Mitch Corley seems like the luckiest guy around. But in truth, Corley's fast hands are the only gift fate's ever given him. He's never held down a steady job, and when it comes to women, his luck might just be the worst of all -- his girlfriend and partner-in-crime Red would double-cross him in a heartbeat if she knew just how short on cash they really were. And if Red ever finds out about the wife Corley neglected to mention, there's a good chance that Corley might not survive the night.
At first, Mitch was sure Texas would be the perfect place for him and Red to run their game -- there are players in nearly every back room and side-street across the state and here, the pockets run just a little deeper. But Corley forgot about one Texans don't forgive easily. And there's nothing they hate more than a cheater.
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.
“The world was a shitpot with a barbed-wire handle and the further he could kick it the better he liked it.” ― Jim Thompson, Texas by the Tail
Not exactly crime fiction (although there is crime). Not exactly noir (maybe Texas Noir?). Texas by the Tail falls into more hustler fiction. Like most of his novels, his writing is penetrating, funny, and sharp. He fits right in with some of my favorite crime/noir/hard-boiled writers (Chandler, Hammett, Highsmith, and Leonard), this just isn't his best. It was entertaining, but I never felt trapped by the novel like I have previous Thompson novels. A solid book, just not top-shelf Thompson.
Thompson is a man who sees the world as a series of near misses. He views every moment in life as a step closer to a happiness and goodness that will, ultimately, be taken from you before it comes to fruition. The human condition, it seems to Thompson, is one in which we are always almost there, always getting close and some lucky few may pass the gates, but the rest of us will be chewed to bits by the great grinder.
All of this probably comes back to his father who made and lost a fortune in the Texas oil boom, while he watched his peers get richer and more sinister. The good, in Thompson's experience, did not thrive. The vile thrived and the rest of us were left with the scraps from their table for which we were expected to be endlessly grateful.
Not that his protagonists are moral milestones, of course. Sure, they have their code and live by it and there's some inherent value in that, but mostly, they just lack the power to do big things and, perhaps more importantly, they lack the moral blackness to ever amass any real wealth or power. Texas by the Tail is perhaps his purest vision of this world. In it, we find Thompson clearly drawing the line between those that are outside the law and those that make the laws and we are never given a moment to doubt which are the most reprehensible.
You would be missing something if you didn't pay close attention to the direction the river runs in all this, though. It does not seem to be part of Thompson's vision that wealth makes a person immoral. Rather, it is that only the most monstrous specimens of humanity have what it truly takes to amass great wealth. And, ultimately, that difference makes all the difference.
Thompson chooses to explore this idea in Texas by the Tail, through the lens of professional gambler, Mitch Corley. Mitch is a man with a code. Sure, he plays dice for a living, but he never uses violence and only gambles with those that can afford it. Unfortunately for him, that's just too much honor (even as little as it is) for him to make it cleanly through dark underbelly of Texas in the peak of the Oil Boom.
At risk for Mitch is the love of his life ("Red") and the money they've squirreled away over the years toward their retirement. The villains of the piece include:
- the wretched wife, who was spent their years together working secretly, as a whore and now proceeds to blackmail Mitch for even the money used to pay their son's school tuition.
- a wealthy land family that has two reputations: (1) they've run much of Texas since the civil war, and (2) they take a malicious delight in destroying people emotionally and physically.
- the ultimate oil tycoon, a man who wants for nothing but seems to pass his days looking for someone to shatter to bits, regardless of whether they deserve it or not.
- a hapless banker, as corrupt as he is pathetic, who is so desirous of the approval of others that he will stoop to almost anything to get it.
- a school headmaster who wants to kick Mitch's son out of the fine boarding school he attends on the grounds that the boy's mother is a prostitute.
I won't go into details about who comes into play where and how it all comes together, but suffice to say that the central journey of the book is the journey by Mitch through the mud of his life and the characters that inhabit it so that he can emerge on the other side with a little nest egg that he and Red can use to live the life of their dreams.
Don't get me wrong, Mitch is far from a saint. In fact, a large chunk of the problems in this book are, while directly brought on by sinister external forces, at least partially his fault. But even those are shaped by Thompson to be somehow understandable. A lie Mitch told long before the story starts is what begins the great downward spiral from which Mitch, in all his sincerity, is trying to escape. A poorly thought out plan based on greed and desperation sets another villain after him. But again, Thompson designs the story such that even the poor decision is based on desperation rather than any real sinister motive.
The question, finally, that Thompson looks to answer here is whether any nominally decent man can carve out a little slice of happiness in a world owned and operated by sadistic people who have everything and want more. Always more.
Sometimes I’ll read other reviews when I finish a book and wonder if we even read the same novel based on the ratings.
This was one of those times.
To my tastes, this Jim Thompson Neo-noir tale was top of the heap and felt like a long lost Coen bros movie. All the Texan insights, the sharp comedy, the hard-boiled characters, and oh boy — that twins scene. Someone else mentioned it, and yeah, it’s as intense as any Tarantino set piece. It’s really that good.
Being a Jim Thompson novel this book’s probably not for the easily offended; yet gold for the rest of us.
Severely underrated. Other fans of Thompson might call this blasphemy but I think this should sneak into his top five. Sure the ending is thoroughly un-Thompson but that makes it even better, it shows the old dog had some flexibility. And the descriptions of all the cities-wow, tremendous. As funny and incisive as can be. Just a delightful read.
Originally published by Gold Medal in 1965, “Texas By the Tail” is the story of Mitch Corley, a bellhop turned gambler, who could make the dice do anything he wanted. Corley and his partner, the red-haired babe (real name Harriet) he once met on a train, traveled across Texas looking for suckers to fleece. Any action would do and Corley lived high on the hog with a safe deposit box supposedly filled to the brim with a 150,000 clams, at least as far as Red knew. He had said he would marry her once their stake amounted to a quarter million.
Of course, this being a Jim Thompson novel, there are a few trademarked twists thrown in such as the fact that Corley had a son in a private boarding school and a wife out there who was plumb crazy and had dozens of arrests for prostitution and was blackmailing him with her checkered present. Red didn’t know about Teddy and vice versa nor about the money Teddy was shilling from Corley every other week.
What Thompson gets absolutely right in this novel is the gambling and he details the action bet by bet and lets the tension build. Speaking of tension, though, as with all gambling stories, Corley flashes cash and dresses snappy, but he is riding on the edge of bankruptcy and knows that, if Red ever got wind of how hard up he was, she’d fly the coop without even so much as a goodbye, see ya. But, Thompson keeps ratcheting up the tension as Corley gets further and further past the edge and keeps going.
Along the way, he has the reader constantly wondering how much is luck, how much is skill, and how much is cheating. Corley prizes his skill above all else and that is ultimately what is meaningful for him.
Jim Thompson, was a master of American Noir, stories of drifters, con men, hustlers, your basic asocial types. Mitch Corley is a typical character. Saddled with Teddy, a wife who wants lots of money to divorce him, he leaves for Texas in an attempt to win big at gambling at the expense of the rich. Unfortunately they don't like losing. Thompson also has a sense of humor. His description of the 1965 (presumably) Oklahoma City to Memphis train: "It has no diner. Its cars are of pre-World War I vintage, without air conditioning or other common comforts. Its schedule is presumably the product of a comic books writer. The many and prolonged delays are variously attributed to such causes as holdups by Jesse James, impromptu hunting and fishing parties for the crew, and funerals for passengers who have advanced into and died en route of old age." Mitch and his girlfriend, Red, settle in Texas, the only place where there's lots of money left for gambling (thanks to oil) and where Mitch hopes to make a big score. He has money stashed in a variety of safe deposit boxes -- a hustler needs a substantial stake, but Red likes to live high and his stash is running low. Another of the drain on his finances is his son, whom he has enrolled in an elite and expensive boarding school, there' and the money he sends his wife, partly out of guilt, partly because he doesn't want her to reveal to Red that he's still married. Red wants to get hitched. In a poker game with Walter Lord, he manages to win $30,000 only to learn that the checks Lord had been cashing through Mitch's friend, are not to be honored by Lord's family, who realize they are gambling debts. Mitch approaches Frank Downing for some help. Mitch demurs when Frank suggests he simply have Teddy killed, but Frank sends his goons to rough up Teddy anyway. (Lest you feel too sorry for Teddy, she's not a lovable character, for a variety of reasons.) In the meantime, needing the money, Mitch decides to drive to the Lord's huge ranch in an attempt to collect the $30,000. I would hate to reveal the ending, but will only suggest that it's quite satisfying after leaving the reader hanging (pun intended).
Un Thompson più statico del solito, sia per quanto riguarda la trama, che mi è parsa un collage di altri suoi romanzi e costantemente 'in attesa di...', e sia per i protagonisti, qui stranamente meno carismatici di molti altri a cui mi ha abituato. O forse, semplicemente, avrei dovuto prestare maggiore attenzione alle parole dell'introduzione, specialmente a quel romanzo confessione che riconduce il tutto alle esperienze di vita dell'autore più che al raccontare una storia per intrattenere il lettore.
"È un romanzo confessione, pieno com'è di riferimenti alla vita di Thompson. Le pagine in cui si parla dell'arrivo a Big Spring, "la metropoli del nulla", di un uomo alla ricerca del petrolio, e che poi rimane al verde, non sono altro che ricordi dell'autore, di quando suo padre, molti anni prima, aveva lavorato nel campo dell'oro nero dilapidando una fortuna. Pure lo stesso Mitch Corley, il protagonista della storia, che cominciò presto a giocare d'azzardo, scontrandosi così con il padre, appartiene al passato dello scrittore. Infatti, disubbidendo alla famiglia e prima d'arrivare alla macchina per scrivere, Jim Thompson fece il cuoco, il fattorino in un albergo, l'operaio e anche il giocatore d'azzardo. La sua specialità, come si legge anche nel romanzo, erano i dadi. Una debolezza che, assieme a quella dell'alcool, lo scrittore passò, come fosse un testimone, a suo figlio Michael rovinandogli la vita."
In this typically gritty Thompson noir, a sharp-witted con artist called Mitch Corley navigates the seedy underbelly of 1950s Texas, where he becomes entangled in an illicit scheme involving oil and money. He attempts to outwit a colourful cast of characters, from corrupt businessmen to convicted criminals, and finds himself in increasingly tricky situations.
There is more dark humour than usual for an Thompson novel, though plenty of suspense, and the Texan landscape plays a key role also, though it’s mainly Houston and Dallas, rather than the rural towns he has written about previously.
It’s a late period Thompson novel, though one which hasn’t aged as well as many of his earlier work. I like to think that he plays this mainly for laughs, and that the frequent misogyny is a metaphor for male impotence, but some scenes can’t get away with this excuse.
The same criticism can be made to quite a bit of 1950s crime, it’s as well for the potential reader to be aware before starting out.
After grifters and killer Jim needed to balance the ying with the yang and you know what he totally created an underestimated novel with a wisecracking comedic group I would say many novelists would take and run with it eg elmore,etc. but that scene with the twins genius!
This one seems to get a mixed reaction from Thompson fans. It's good. It's not S-Tier Thompson, but it's not the hot mess that some folks may try to convince you it is. It's a solid mid-to-high range output.
Unfortunately, Texas by the Tail suffers from following The Grifters (a bedrock of the S-Tier), and unnecessarily draws comparisons to it. On the surface there's a lot of overlap. Stories about con men with troubled relationships with women, including the older women who serve as fill ins for the protagonist's unusual relationship with a floozy mother.
Short of the surface-level thematic overlap, Texas by the Tail stands on its own. Fans of the super dark worlds Thompson creates may be disappointed here, but there are moments of Thompson's trademark viciousness -- in particular a scene where two effete hoods go to shakedown a lady. Rough stuff.
The novel is also Thompson's rumination on Texas as whole. The Texas mythology of it's ascendancy as a player on the world stage, how it came to be, and the people who helped build (perhaps drilled, is a better word) it. I get the feeling Thompson would love Texas if not for the frauds who make up its high-society.
It's a different underbelly of society than we're used to seeing in other pulp works or noir fiction. The low-lifes and villains of this world are oil men, millionaires, billionaires, bankers, and school-masters. But make no mistake, there's danger and thrills to be found in this world, especially for a gambler who knows to expertly throw a pair of dice.
Mitch Corley, our dice chucker, reminds me of an every-man version of Thompson's protagonists. He may consort with the underbelly, but he's a man of honor and won't cheat you.
Of the four or five Thompson novels i have recently re-read, this is by far the weakest. None of the characters are in any way sympathetic, or in the least likable, and the story takes place in what is clearly an unpleasant environment . . . a place called Texas.
Interestingly, there are some excellent quotes scattered throughout the novel, as though the author sought to make up for the shortcomings of his characters and plot by waxing poetic or philosophical. For example:
"Possibly there is an inverse relationship between the low rating of the American male in his own home and the alarming increase in impotence, insanity, alcoholism, homosexuality, suicides, divorces, abortions, murders, censorship, and educated illiterates."
Not as seedy as some of Jim Thompson's best work, Texas by the Tail has as its protagonist, a professional craps player, who is a decent person, not a hero, but certainly not a villain. I won't say much about the ending, but it's not what you expect from a Jim Thompson story. The writing is brisk and satisfying. Thompson has the usual hotel bellboy and Texas oil rig references throughout (he was experienced with both in his own life). I thoroughly enjoyed this, but there are at least ten Jim Thompson books you should read before it.
Fairly average Thompson. Everyone’s a shitbag, not a single likeable person amongst them, there’s some completely unnecessary violence and the ending was awful. I doubt I’ll remember this in 12 months time.
The best craps mechanic in the southwest tries to roll his way out of penury. One of Thompson's 'sweeter,' less surreal works, but it's still got some remarkably insightful/horrific bits of psychosexual insight. No one straddled crime and existential despair like Jim Thompson.
If you saw the movie Uncut Gems, this book answers the question “What if Uncut Gems but Texas?” It’s wild.
The year of Jim Thompson continues with one I’ve wanted to get to for some time. The story is familiar: a perpetual loser looking to make the big score, with an attractive woman on his arm and the bad guys always at his back. The bad guys often carry a sheen of legitimacy, whether it’s oil or land money. This is a recurring theme in Thompson novels, his strongest critique of systemic violence. It’s on full display here. With Mitch, the anti-hero, he’s your typical con man: if he stops talking or moving, every one will see through his bs. So he has to keep it up. It makes the book quite thrilling.
The other thing on full display is Texas. This is a Texas tale to its absolute core. But whereas in the past, Thompson has usually stuck to rural Texas, this novel is mostly urbane, taking place in Houston and Dallas, along with a sprinkling of other locales. Thompson goes long several times on the wild histories of the state and its cities.
This is also clearly a late period Thompson work. The writing is more focused and there are fewer random detours or moments of meandering. It still carries many of his signature trademarks but it’s also written at a more mature time for him.
So why only three stars after a review that read mostly as acclaim? Two reasons: 1. The violence against women here is once again terrible. There are times when Thompson can use it to make a point about masculine impotence. However, there’s a completely gratuitous scene here that makes me feel guilty for still reading Thompson’s work, as much as I love it. I couldn’t get over it and while it’s debatable if “docking the book a star” is a real penalty, it’s all I can think to do. And 2. The ending. I know what Thompson was trying to do, it just didn’t work for me.
For about 90% of this, it’s a fun crime read. It’s a great gateway to Thompson’s work. Just know what you’re getting into.
With a "happy ending" and only two or three scenes of torture and brutal beatings, Texas by the Tail probably qualifies as Thompson's greatest comic effort. And he never loses his touch, always bringing a heretofore unexamined perspective to people with sordid lusts, sinful souls, and every now and then a touch of conscience.
A few things about the particulars of this novel:
* It is written almost as ready to be filmed. Not only is the narrative making use of multiple storylines but the imagery and very opening of the chapters seem like establishing shots.
* For anyone who lived in Texas in the early 1960s, I don't think there has ever been such an insightful portrait of the era or its hustlers and big shots as in this book.
* The novel is also a virtual geography lesson, running from Ft. Worth to Houston to Dallas and out to West Texas and Big Spring. Thompson got a snapshot of the old time cattle barons right before they essentially went extinct. And his descriptions of the withered, bronzed, and hard men and women of West Texas, compared to the soft manipulators and gamblers of Houston and Dallas also harken back to the era of the Hunts, Murchisons, Cullens, Sid Richardson, Judge Roy Hofheinz and "Silver Dollar Jim" West.
Tensely written, great characters and some brilliant scenes. Yet the ending appears rushed and in truth some of the characters act as if they are running to reach a denouement that everyone can agree with by the end. Still, it's a fast read and very worth it.