When I think of other novels in the genre of pulp thrillers or, as Graham Greene himself called them, 'entertainments', I find that they are all limited to the mainstream objectives of their genre, sticking to one template - of a criminal on the run, a woman whom he encounters, a diligent cop on his trail and the grand villain who looms over the proceedings like an archetype arch nemesis. What distinguishes this early brilliant work from one of the 20th century's most astute and compelling storytellers from them all is how Greene, with his trademark flair for subversion, plays with these tropes and churns out a thriller that has the unmistakable fine, dark and even bitter taste of chocolate, the feel of true noir.
And by noir, I don't just mean the treachery and shifty allegiances, the ruthlessly manipulation and conspiracy that lies enmeshed inside the labyrinthine plotting or even the inevitable femme fatale but rather of a heightened and even surreal sense of the desolation of the night, the suicidal despair of the chase, of chaotic London and cloistered Nottwich (the author's fictional version of Nottingham and populated by tubby, slow-moving cops and dotty old ladies scavenging for junk in jumble sales) and of guilt, redemption and a thirst for revenge that punctuates even the minor sub-plots that the author fuses together brilliantly into the enthralling main narrative.
The plot is thus: Raven, the titular assassin for hire (though once you mull over the tinier nuances and the overwhelming backdrop in the narrative, you can think of the title in a different angle altogether) finishes a particularly high-stakes job but is, in turn, betrayed and cheated by his own bosses, who are obviously planning something bigger. That is all you really need to know, by the way. As Greene tugs you into the seedy, cynical and even nihilistic world-view of his cold-blooded yet tormented protagonist, you would be expecting it, at least in the beginning, to follow the same 'hunter and hunted' formula but the novel subverts our hopes at every level to fantastic effect, seamlessly connecting a handful of beautifully etched and utterly believable characters to the main gist, including a spirited young woman who demonstrates the author's underrated ability at carving out fantastic female characters who deserve full-fledged stories of their own.
As with all his novels, the beauty of 'A Gun For Sale' is in the fine, intricate detailing. With the lucid prose and the almost mesmerising flow, even when the tale hits its murkiest moments, one ends up missing that Greene's writing was so cinematic, so rich with beautifully crafted imagery that you could almost imagine entire moments playing out on celluloid. The use of locations and events, as said before, lends real urgency to even the most unexpected moments of reflection, from the aforementioned jumble sale that joins two disparate narrative threads ingeniously together to a gas-mask drill that sets the stage for the suitably terse standoff in the final pages. The suspense comes thick and fast, with the littlest of the sounds and coincidences culminating into twists that we can never see coming in our way.
This is a thriller that I would recommend everyone to eat up and eat it up, they should for even at a slim length of less than 200 pages, it has more profundity, poetry and pitch-black darkness than any other pulp novel. And that is saying something.