En la ciudad de Chicago un maníaco homicida ha asesinado a tres jóvenes de manera brutal y está a punto de asesinar a una cuarta. El periodista Wiliam Sweeney, irlandés, borracho y testarudo, queda obsesionado por la visión de esta última víctima, salvada por la intervención de un terrible perro lobo. Sweeney emprende la búsqueda del destripador guiado por la única pista que ha encontrado: la estatuilla de una mujer gritando ante el ataque de un asesino.
Fredric Brown was an American science fiction and mystery writer. He was one of the boldest early writers in genre fiction in his use of narrative experimentation. While never in the front rank of popularity in his lifetime, Brown has developed a considerable cult following in the almost half century since he last wrote. His works have been periodically reprinted and he has a worldwide fan base, most notably in the U.S. and Europe, and especially in France, where there have been several recent movie adaptations of his work. He also remains popular in Japan.
Never financially secure, Brown - like many other pulp writers - often wrote at a furious pace in order to pay bills. This accounts, at least in part, for the uneven quality of his work. A newspaperman by profession, Brown was only able to devote 14 years of his life as a full-time fiction writer. Brown was also a heavy drinker, and this at times doubtless affected his productivity. A cultured man and omnivorous reader whose interests ranged far beyond those of most pulp writers, Brown had a lifelong interest in the flute, chess, poker, and the works of Lewis Carroll. Brown married twice and was the father of two sons.
The Screaming Mimi (1949) is a standalone crime fiction mystery set in Chicago. The lead character, is a drunken Irishman named Bill Sweeney, a news reporter who once in a while goes on a never-ending two week bender, not knowing if he left anything of his life to go back to. Sweeney just hangs out on the street with the bums, hoping he has enough change left for another bottle of rotgut wine. Sweeney, as we quickly find out, though, is only five-eights Irish and only three-quarters drunk. He works for the Blade, a muckraking paper, previously mentioned by Fredric Brown in A Plot for Murder. The story is about Chicago’s own version of Jack the Ripper and, as it begins, Sweeney is not necessarily one hundred percent certain that he is not the Ripper. Indeed, throughout the story, you as the reader too may never be quite sure, particularly as Sweeney relates that he does not have a decent alibi for any of the killings and they all took place or the victims appear to have been stalked from an area just a few blocks from Sweeney’s apartment. The story also is about a small statute, but not quite a Maltese Falcon. Rather, it is a small statute connected with the murders that depicts a screaming woman, a, if you will, screaming mimi, and thus the title of the book.
The first victim Sweeney encounters was a woman in a strapless white silk evening gown that molded every contour of her body guarded by a wolf-like dog who the police thought they would have to put down to even get near the woman. Despite a five-inch long cut in in her dress and a puddle of blood, the woman survived and, as she rises, the giant dog used his teeth to pull down the zipper of her dress, fully exposing her to the audience of onlookers. Sweeney wanders off, but in the gray dawn, finds out the woman’s name from the paper (Yolanda Lang) who he later found did a nightclub striptease act with the dog.
Sweeney slowly put his life back together, finding that his employer chalked up the two weeks as vacation and that his landlady will let him back in when he pays something on the back rent. Sweeney, though, is a newspaperman and begins following up on this case, particularly when it connects with a series of other shiv-type murders of young Chicago women. His investigation leads him to a nightclub where Yolanda works, to a curio shop, and on a long train ride to a struggling artist in the countryside. He has no official role in the investigation, but his intuition keeps his nose to the grindstone on this case, hoping he can figure it out first and get first dibs on an article for a true crime magazine.
Obviously, Sweeney is a stand-in for the role a private detective often plays in such stories. Brown frequently uses reporters as his lead characters. The idea that we readers get at first that Sweeney is down on his luck and nothing more than a bum is also an idea Brown has used in other stories such as The Wench is Dead. And, of course, the notion that the lead character does not quite know whether he himself is guilty or innocent haunts this novel from beginning to end.
A really great suspense novel with a drunk newshound trying to track down a serial killer on the streets of Chicago. Brown’s writing is thoroughly entertaining and the plot is absolutely solid. There’s humour, tension, psychological drama and a bit of sleaze, everything you could want from a crime novel really. It was apparently the inspiration for Argento’s The Bird with the Crystal Plumage. There’s also a movie adaptation from the 50 starring Anita Ekberg which has the great tagline “Suspense around every curve!”
From 1949 A newspaper reporter has to get over a bout of alcoholic depravity so he can throw himself into hunting a Jack the Ripper esque serial killer.
Bill Sweeney, under suspension from the Chicago Blade newspaper, sobers up from a three week alcohol binge, to join a small crowd of people staring at the front door of an apartment a beautiful blonde who has a stab wound in the abdomen and is being guarded by her growling and huge dog. As she stands, her robe drops to the floor revealing all. It’s a powerful opening.
Sweeney, who isn’t an alcoholic in his own words, and just has occasional binges, reclaims his job as he is besotted by this woman and wants the story, and just perhaps, the chance to see her again. The woman, it materialises, is a stripper, and the dog, just performing the act of making her naked, as he does in the show.
The stabbing of the stripper though, is a failed attempt at murder by the ‘ripper’, who has claimed two murders already. This isn’t just a pulp fiction noir, it’s also a whodunnit, with an effective ending which reveals the killer.
It may well be the book that Brown is most famous for, and a good example of his style, which is quite different to his contemporaries; he uses less dialogue, less slang, and though undoubtedly pulp, it is aimed at a more educated audience, with occasional literary references.
Brown wrote science fiction and fantasy also, but it is crime that sold him the most books, though his short stories probably made him more money from the various magazines. His trademarks at his use of humour, and the twist in the ending, as here.
It was filmed in 1970 as The Bird With The Crystal Plummage, with Dario Argeno directing, one of his giallo movies, murder mystery with slasher horror, and usually very bright colours. I’m a fan of course of Argento, but have not seen this yet.
After I read Fredric Brown's The Fabulous Clipjoint, somebody at Goodreads suggested I try his novel The Screaming Mimi, so I did, and I wasn't left disappointed. Besides coining such colorful titles, Brown also writes an engaging story. This time Bill Sweeney is a drunkard reporter for THE CHICAGO BLADE who has to clean up his act long enough to investigate a serial killer known as The Ripper (as in Jack the Ripper?). Sweeney employs the same dogged tenacity and sharp-eyed observations that a private eyes does. Along the way, he discovers the Screaming Mimi, a black statuette of a shouting lady, which takes on deeper significance as the narrative unspins. Brown is in no hurry to relate his story until the climactic end where the pace steps up considerably. He also pulls off a neat twist that surprised me, always a nice reading experience of crime novels. He interjects a little folksy humor that helps to spell the grisly themes. I don't know if I'll get to his other titles, but the two I read have been satisfying enough.
It's been 25 years now since I saw the 1958 Anita Ekberg movie "Screaming Mimi" at NYC's Thalia Theatre (paired with the 1956 Jayne Mansfield film "The Burglar," for one remarkable double feature...ah, that WAS a theatre!), and all I can remember of it is the famous scene at the beginning, in which Anita is attacked, while taking an outdoor shower, by a knife-wielding maniac. (Yes, this scene beat "Psycho" to the shower punch by two years!) I'd love to refresh my memory of this film, but surprisingly, despite the presence of cult actress Ekberg, it has never been released for home viewing--not on VHS, laser disc or DVD--and is rarely revived or shown. Fortunately, we still have the film's source book, Fredric Brown's 1949 thriller "The Screaming Mimi," and a recent perusal of that short novel has once again reminded me of what a terrific author Brown could be. (He was, famously, Mickey Spillane's favorite writer.) I'd previously only encountered Brown's work in the sci-fi field, but his output in the crime arena was apparently just as prodigious and well done. "Mimi" is a compactly written affair, as would be expected of the man who's famous for his sci-fi "short shorts," filled with wonderfully hard-boiled dialogue, intricate plotting and interesting, believable characters. Though not as highly regarded as Brown's first crime novel, "The Fabulous Clipjoint," it remains a marvelous entertainment.
In the book, we meet William Sweeney, an occasional alcoholic and a reporter on the "Chicago Blade." When we first encounter Sweeney, he is deep in the midst of one of his binges, living like a homeless person and soused to the gills. After witnessing the aftermath of the attempted murder of a beautiful stripper, however--the first nonfatal attack by the so-called Ripper, after three previous homicides--he rouses himself from the gutter and goes back to work, vowing to catch the Ripper and, ultimately, spend a night with the wounded victim, Yolanda Lang. To the reader's surprise, this mess of a lush turns out to be one very clever, witty and cultured fellow, although not especially tough; indeed, he gets the stuffing beaten out of him three times during the course of his pursuit! Investigating the three women who had been sliced to death by the Ripper over the course of the previous two months, Sweeney encounters quite an assortment of Chicago's denizens, from strippers to small-time hoods, from tough-talking cops to a wacky artist, from an enigmatic talent manager to a gay art dealer. Eventually, Sweeney realizes that a small black statuette of a terrified woman, the so-called Screaming Mimi, might hold the key to the killer's identity. But will he live long enough to make use of that knowledge?
As to the identity of the murderous Ripper, my advice would be to not even guess. This novel is extremely well plotted, as I mentioned earlier, and its final revelations DO come as a nice surprise. I would be remiss if I didn't mention the author's great use of humor in his book. The dialogue here sparkles, and Sweeney seems to never be at a loss for some snappy rejoinder. "The only thing I hate about you is your guts," he tells one of his adversaries. When told that the Ripper's third victim had been a private secretary, he remarks, "How private? Kind that has to watch her periods as well as her commas?" Then again, the book can get awfully bleak, as when Sweeney reflects, "Death is an incurable disease that men and women are born with; it gets them sooner or later. A murderer never really kills; he but anticipates." I might also add that a good street map of downtown Chicago (a town I've never been to) proved very helpful to me while reading this book; Brown was apparently right at home in Chicago, and it shows. The author, for all his meticulous plotting and sharp writing, DOES make a few gaffs during the course of his novel. In one section, Sweeney walks into a bar (even when not on a binge, this character drinks more than you would believe; an interesting drinking game would be to take a sip of booze for every full drink that Sweeney consumes!) and puts a $5 bill on the counter; a few pages later, Brown tells us that he had put a $10 bill down there. Also, one of Sweeney's fellow reporters, Horlick, is said to be starting his vacation on a Monday, but 100+ pages later, he IS at work on that day. Quibbles aside, though, "The Screaming Mimi" is some mighty impressive work. Capped by a wonderfully ironic final page, it is an object lesson in being careful for what one wishes....
seems like an enjoyable if harmless page-turner until the end, which really comes together, all the pieces whirling down out of the darkness and snapping into place, and there's this horrible sickening sensation because suddenly you see what's been going on the whole time and you really wish it didn't have to happen. but there it is.
that being said, and without giving any spoilers: what exactly is it about words?
p.s. i feel like Sam Pink would like this book. sam pink and Jacques Lacan. weird mix
Screaming Mimi was first published in 1949, at the height of Brown's writing career. Although the pulp magazine publishing industry was winding down at this point, Brown still managed to knock out a lot of fiction for the market. Noir fiction was popular at the time; returning GI's were discovering the bad guys didn't necessarily wear domino masks. Hailing from the midwest, Brown's mean streets were located in Chicago for this book. Mimi opens with a reporter named Sweeny recovering from a week-long drunk. What shakes him out of his alcoholic stupor is the sight of a beautiful women bleeding from a knife wound. The ripper, a psycho killer who preys on young blond women, is on the prowl and Yolanda Lang, a dancer at a cheap tavern, was almost the next victim. Yolanda survives the attack, but the ripper is still on the prowl. Sweeny's vision of Yolanda is enough to sober him up and get him back to his job at The Blade, a big city newspaper. He convinces the editor to put him on the ripper story, which allows him the chance to look into Yolanda's background. He soon meets Yolanda's manager, "Doc" Greene, who resents Sweeny's interest in her, but understands their mutual need to keep Yolanda alive. Ace reporter Sweeny quickly discovers one of the ripper's previous victims worked only one day at a gift shop. She sold a small statue of a nude, screaming woman to an unknown customer. Since she was murdered within a few hours of the sale, Sweeny deduces the statue triggered something in the killer which would initiate the string of murders. He buys the only remaining copy of the statue from the same gift shop. Sweeny manages to track down both the manufacturer and sculptor of the statue. What he discovers unlocks Yolanda's past and the identity of the ripper. To tell more would be to give away the conclusion of the novel. Let me say, it's a surprise ending which came from behind. Brown was in top form when he wrote the last chapter to Mimi. If you're interested in tight, witty crime novels, this is an excellent read. Brown gives a portrait of post-WW2 Chicago where rooming houses, cheap booze, and homeless people are the daily background.
"He needed a drink; he needed about six more shots, or say half a pint, and that would put him over the hump and he could sleep. When had he slept last? He tried to think back, but things were foggy. It had been in an areaway on Huron over near the El, and it had been night, but had it been last night or the night before that? What had he done yesterday?" - p 10
His name is Sweeney & he eventually makes it back to his apartment after his bender:
""Um—I'm afraid I lost my key. Do you have—""
""You didn't lose it. I took it away from you a week ago Friday. You were trying to carry out your phonograph to hock it."
"Sweeney dropped his head into his hands. "Lord, did I?"
""You didn't. I made you take it back. And I made you give me the key. Your clothes are all there, too, except your topcoat and overcoat. You must have taken them before that. And your typewriter. And your watch—unless you got it on."
"Sweeney shook his head slowly. "Nope. It's gone. But thanks for saving the other stuff."" - p 31
His characters are alcoholics, classical music is a running theme too:
"Why should I tell you anything about Sweeney? If you know the Mozart 40, the dark restlessness of it, the macabre drive behind its graceful counterpoint, then you know Sweeney. And if the Mozard 40 sounds to you like a gay but slightly boring minuet, background for a conversation, then to you Sweeney is just another damn reporter who happens, too, to be a periodic drunk."
[..]
"There are strange things and there are stranger ones. And one of the strangest? A wooden box containing oddments of copper wire and metal plates, a half-dozen spaces of the nothingness called a vacuum, and a black wire which plugs into a hole in the wall from whence cometh our help, whence flows a thing which we call electricity because we do not know what it is. But it flows and inorganic matter lives; a table is prepared before you and revolves, bearing a disc; a needle scrapes in a groove." - p 34
I don't think you'll be geting such a description of a record player in a Mickey Spillane novel. Unlike Spillane, Brown is a writer as opposed to a propagandist:
""Stella Gaylord was a B-girl on West Madison Street. The Lee girl was a private secretary."
""How private? Kind that has to watch her periods as well as her commas?"" - p 44
"A moon-faced man stood just inside the doorway. A wide but meaningless smile was on his face as he looked along the bar, starting at the far end. His eyes, through round thick-lensed glasses came to rest on Sweeney and the smile widened. His eyes, through the lenses, looked enormous.
"Somehow, too, they managed to look both vacant and deadly. They looked like a repitle's eyes, magnified a hundredfold, and you expected a nictitating membrane to close across them.
"Sweeney—the outside of Sweeney—didn't move, but something shuddered inside him. For almost the first time in his life he was hating a man at first sight." - p 48
This is a mystery. I skip ahead 143 pp:
"Sweeney stared moodily into his. This had looked so good, less than half an hour ago. He'd found a Ripper. Only the Ripper was dead, four and a quarter years dead, with a hole in him that Sweeney could stick his head through if he wanted to, only he didn't want to, especially with the Ripper four and a quarter years dead." - p 191
I skip ahead even more, the mystery remains a mystery (in this review, i.e.), Brown makes an aside to the reader:
"After the floor show (you wouldn't want me to describe it again would you?) he wandered out to the bar and managed to get a place at it." - p 215
This is a mystery. I haven't spoiled it. I highly recommend reading it.. if you don't have anything better to do.
A stereotypical drunken Irish newsman named Sweeney stumbles upon a crime scene where a gorgeous, naked girl and her guard dog have been attacked. It is love at first sight so Sweeney to find the attacke3r, a serial killer nicknamed (of course), The Ripper. He also tries to get closer to the victim, Yolanda, a stripper, but her agent is guarding her closely. A main clue is the statuette that Sweeney calls "The Screaming Mimi". This is well-written and funny with a twisty plot and a twisty, surprise ending. A 1958 movie based on this book starred Anita Eckberg and Gypsy Rose Lee.
I'm a huge fan of Fred Brown and have been enjoying his books for 25 years. It had been about that long since I first read the Screaming Mimi. Sometimes you just can't go back. You try to revisit a book that you have fond memories of and it just isn't the same; it's disappointing.
Fredric Brown is a consistent exception. He delivers time and time again. I have read all of his books, most of them 2 or 3 times, and I'm never disappointed.
If you know Brown's work, you are aware of the magic that dusts his stories. His books are nostalgic without being "dated". At the forefront are plot, and story, but underlying that are a moral code shared by his characters; the way they reason and behave toward each other. His worlds are familiar but distinctly "Fred Brownian". Even when his books aren't technically character studies, the characters are believable. We relate to them and want to know them--at least have a drink with them.
I don't want to spoil The Screaming Mimi for you so I'll just say, if you love a mystery; enjoy great characters; a '40s Chicago setting, and a story that progresses, like a freight train, dragging you to the final intense page, then give this one a read.
Written at the tail end of the pulp era proper, Brown's 'The Screaming Mimi' sits somewhere between the romans noir which were in their ascendancy, and the more traditional detective novels of earlier times. Brown assembles some interesting characters and a nice twisty plot, but it's the lean and precise but very playful language that is the real highlight of this book. Brown's swift journalistic prose is fun to read. He obviously has fun with word play, but it never gets in the way of moving the plot forward.
It's not without faults. Brown's foray into psychological speculation seem contrived and very improbable, Also, the characterization of the protagonist as a binge drinker (but not an alcoholic, mind you) seemed completely superfluous and of no consequence to the plot. My guess is these plot elements were demanded by publishers to make the work more hardboiled.
That said, it's a solid and clever mystery novel, and it makes me want to read more by Brown including his sci fi ouevre.
Now considered a minor master piece of the so called, “Noir Fiction” genre, the story has more in common with the “Golden Age of Crime and Detection” as the protagonist, though not a detective, is a reporter trying to solve a murder, or actually a string of murders. The story also has some over tones of horror, though it probably would not be considered very horrific today, this was written before Hitchcock made horror a standard fare for mysteries. Even the title conveys this with it’s play on The Screaming Meemees-an extreme attack of nerves or ; hysteria – named after the WWI bomb which was launched straight up in the air and came down with a high pitched ‘scream’ before exploding over the target. very enjoyable read with a unique narrative style. http://crimeways.wordpress.com/2011/0...
I've only read one other Brown novel and it's difficult not to compare this book with that first, singular, and excellent experience. Still, I have nothing negative to say except that I was able to reasonably predict the twist at the end, sans details. Again, not the fault of this tome since I had already been made aware that there was a surprise ending and almost everything has been done now at one time or another, right? Regardless, this delivers a fantastic protagonist in Bill Sweeney, reporter, who starts investigating a string of knife murders in Chicago and ends up tying the killings to a bizarre statuette of a naked, screaming woman. Brown mixes wittiness with creepiness and delivers an unusual and entertaining noir-horror-mystery.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This book and its name are classic. Maybe it is because I recently made some poor selections and just came off three or four mediocre books, but this old pulp mystery noir threw me back into the period in which it was written......1949. From the first word to the last it had me turning pages quickly. There was no looking ahead to see how long the next chapter was. The lead character starts the book as a drunk on a Chicago park bench and ends the book with his friend "God" {Godfrey} in the same place, but in between happens to function as a reporter for a Chicago newspaper. This novel's claim to fame, in my opinion, is not its credability, its prose or its reality...........it is just clever entertainment.
For anyone from Chicago, Brown's use of the street names, Bughouse Square, and other locations in the loop area give this book an extra star. Though much of the Chicago scene (street cars, rooming houses)that he writes about would be rapidly disappearing just a few years latter, it makes it a rich and enjoyable book for an old Chicago boy. The language and humor is sharp and fun. The tension over the Ripper and Yolanda is just that, tense. The Freudian explanation at the end is crap, but it is mercifully short and near enough the end of the book not to ruin the experience too much. The joke at the end is typical Brown.
Un buen amigo con el que comparto gustos cinematográficos me prestó esta novela. Lo hizo principalmente porque soy fan de los primeros trabajos de Dario Argento, y bueno, "El pájaro de las plumas de cristal", uno de sus primeros trabajos destacables, está más o menos basado en "El suplicio de Mimi", así pues, me dispuso a leerlo con mucha curiosidad, ya que la novela no aparece en los créditos de la película.
Se trata entonces, de un material típicamente "pulp", ya saben, mujeres voluptuosas, historia truculenta, acción, personajes rudos, etc. dirigida a un público típicamente masculino que no espera grandes complicaciones intelectuales con su lectura. Y bueno, cumple a la perfección con el trabajo. O sea, la historia no es la gran cosa, sin embargo, constituye un buen entretenimiento para un momento de relax.
La cosa va mas o menos así: tras una francachela de unas dos semanas, Sweeney, periodista, va de camino a quien sabe donde, cuando le toca ser testigo de una escena espeluznante: una guapa mujer rubia, vestida de blanco, esta atrapado en la entrada de unos departamentos, herida y salvaguardada por un perro. Él no lo sabe, pero esta ante la más reciente víctimo de "El Destripador", maniaco asesino que en las últimas semanas ha liquidado a tres mujeres en forma violenta. De repente, quien sabe como, la pobre mujer queda desnuda, revelando un cuerpazo digno de una diosa y como no, despertando en el reportero la necesidad de "poseerla", aún si eso significa que tendrá que pelear por ella con El Destripador. ¿Qué tal? Entonces, se embarca en una serie de pesquisas que acaban dándole una pista ignorada por la policia y otros reporteros, la Mimi del título. Esta se vuelve clave para dar con la identidad del asesino, gracias a una astuta triquiñuela ideada por Sweeney, quien piensa que ahora si, estará a punto de poseer a la rubia del incio, pero...
En fin, no resulta el material más innovador de la historia, ni sorprende por el uso de una depurada técnica literaria, sin embargo, resulta divertido. Es una lectura muy fluida, y para el estudioso de la cinemaografía de Argento reviste de mucha importancia, ya que es muy interesante ver las partes que el director tomó casi en forma literal y se puede comparar si los cambios que le hizo a la historia fueron para bien o para mal. Eso si, para quien ya haya visto la película, lo cierto es que el final de la novela ya no es tan sorpresivo, pero eso no constituye ningún impedimento para que sea divertida...
“What did it matter to him, that a fading ex-pony was six feet under now? She’d have been there sooner or later anyway; five years from now, fifty years. Death is an incurable disease that men and women are born with; it gets them sooner or later. A murderer never really kills; he but anticipates. Anyways he kills one who is already dying, already doomed.” Pg. 50
The above may be Fredric Brown’s general worldview, his Weltanschauung...Brown delights is throwing $10 words in his hard boiled universe so I thought I would follow suit.
To keep riffing on Brown’s alcohol filled composition, the two main features are 1, the above quote, about the pointlessness of doing anything and 2, only some inspired desire can energize a man enough to change their “almost” predestined course of suffering. NOT that the suffering will end, just that the course will change so that even if they fulfill their desire it will simply be a different kind of suffering. Truly a man after my own heart!
The story starts by Sweeney's epiphany coming straight from the mouth of God
(God says) "I told you I could get a drink if I wanted it bad enough: I just didn’t want it bad enough before. A guy can get anything he wants, if he wants it bad enough" Pg 9
The “hero” Sweeney's story starts as he is in the middle of a soul crushing boozy bender and befriends a fellow drunken traveler named God. At some point he reveals that the name is short for “Godfrey” but I really think is a joke about if there is a God he must be on a bender himself.
I am still enchanted by Brown but this one didn’t grab me quite as much as the others did. the amount of drinking that goes on is so extreme it is actually distracting. I suppose it doesn’t matter if drinking was a personal problem, but maybe it was so consuming that it bled into his fiction. Not a judgement on my part, just wondering if it really was a storytelling feature or he couldn’t keep thinking about drinking ever. Just curious is all.
And now some Fredric Brown vocabulary quiz. Do you know these gems? I had to look up all of them.
“an ex-chorine” “she was a chippie” “he looked both complacent and complaisant”
This is a difficult one to rate because I really wanted to like it. I am a fan of Frederic Brown and this story sounded great. An alcoholic crime reporter, a hot dame and a serial killer, set in Chicago, it was directly up my street...
However, there were more than a few spelling mistakes and typos that really took me out of the novel and made it difficult to be engrossed. Though I’m not sure if this was from the original text or from the publisher that release the kindle version.
The narrator wasn’t particularly likable and I like antiheroes.
Another aspect of this book that I didn’t like was the reader was supposed to accept the allusion that people would die automatically and silently from having their stomach sliced open. I don’t think that’s the case and wish that the writer had done a little more research, even superficial research could have been sufficient.
The twist ending wasn’t all that surprising either and I had guessed it half way through.
This isn’t a bad book but it’s not a great book either.
Non amo molto i noir, non apprezzo i suoi personaggi tipici, la puzza di whiskey che permane in tutto il romanzo e il linguaggio utilizzato. Tuttavia ho deciso di dare una chance a questo romanzo perché pare abbia ispirato uno dei miei film preferiti di sempre, "L'uccello dalle piume di cristallo". Ho apprezzato la scorrevolezza ma ho trovato intollerabile il finale: ok, Brown ha inventato un espediente successivamente utilizzato da qualsiasi scrittore e sceneggiatore al mondo, il punto è che lo ha usato malissimo, creando un contesto assolutamente non credibile. Dario Argento ha colto l'estremo potenziale della scena iniziale e del twist finale e ha creato un capolavoro, a Fredric Brown darei solo il merito di aver avuto una bella intuizione e non è certo poco.
Dang. Not my genre at all, but I'm bespelled by the man's SF, and by this noir detective thriller, too. Highly recommended to ppl who aren't easily triggered, not to recovering alcoholics.
Τρίτο βιβλίο του Φρέντρικ Μπράουν που διαβάζω, μετά το εξαιρετικό αστυνομικό νουάρ "Οι κυνηγοί" (The Fabulous Clipjoint) και την πολύ καλή σάτιρα επιστημονικής φαντασίας "Έξω οι εξωγήινοι" (Martians, Go Home), και αυτό με την σειρά του με άφησε αρκετά ικανοποιημένο.
Έχουμε να κάνουμε με ένα αστυνομικό νουάρ μυθιστόρημα, πρωταγωνιστής του οποίου είναι ο μεθύστακας Ιρλανδός δημοσιογράφος της εφημερίδας "Μπλέιντ" του Σικάγο, Μπιλ Σουίνι, ο οποίος θα παίξει τον ρόλο του αστυνομικού σε μια υπόθεση άγριων δολοφονιών νεαρών, όμορφων γυναικών, με τον δράστη να χαρακτηρίζεται ως "Αντεροβγάλτης" από εφημερίδες και αστυνομικές πηγές. Ο Σουίνι θα προσπαθήσει να μείνει όσο νηφάλιος γίνεται και να ακολουθήσει το τελευταίο θύμα του δράστη, μια χορεύτρια, που την γλίτωσε την τελευταία στιγμή από τον εγκληματία. Διάφορα τρελά πράγματα θα γίνουν, μέχρι το ανατρεπτικό φινάλε...
Αρκετά ωραίο και ενδιαφέρον αστυνομικό μυθιστόρημα, που όμως δείχνει λίγο τα χρονάκια του και δεν είναι για όλα τα γούστα. Προσωπικά μου άρεσε, δεν μπορώ να πω όμως ότι με ξετρέλανε. Πάντως σίγουρα το τέλος δεν το περίμενα και τόσο. Η γραφή αρκετά καλή και ευκολοδιάβαστη, με χιούμορ εδώ και εκεί.
Η μετάφραση μου φάνηκε αρκετά παλιομοδίτικη και όχι τόσο καλά επιμελημένη, αλλά είναι και σχεδόν πενήντα ετών, οπότε υπάρχουν ελαφρυντικά και, άλλωστε, την δουλειά της την έκανε.
Frederic Brown is, ironically, now known for his science fiction which is often quite notable and influential. His stories "Knock" and "Arena" have entered the popular culture through radio and television versions (the most famous being Star Trek's take on the latter). "Martians Go Home" is a seminal piece of sci-fi comedy and "Answer" is acknowledged by Douglas Adams as being formative for his Hitchiker's Guide books. That all said, it's Brown's pulp crime where he really excels. He plays with the form like no other. This book, for example, has a strange, omniscient narrator who seems to know you. "Here Comes a Candle" is an insane juggling act of narrative devices. But with all this experimenting, Brown has a true gift for a propulsive narrative with the kind of force that you don't see often outside of Hammett or later, lean practitioners like Lawrence Block. This book is part noir, part crime and a little bit horror all jumbled together in a package that is simply perfect. It's a clever, funny, smart and gruesome book that isn't at all afraid to punch you in the guts when you're not looking. Highly recommended.
P.S. This book has been made as movies, twice. Once as "The Screaming Mimi" and, far more loosely, as "The Bird With the Crystal Plumage" by Italian horror genius Dario Argento.
I am delighted to have discovered Fredric Brown. I came to this by hearing it was the basis of Dario Argento's debut film "The Bird With The Crystal Plumage" but other than some key elements of plot it is a very different beast. The conversational wit with which Brown tells the tale is hugely endearing. It's like having a serious and startling story told to you by a trusted witty friend. A drunk reporter happens upon a scene in which a beautiful dancer has narrowly escaped being the latest victim of a serial killer, "The Ripper". Smitten with the girl he resolves to sober up, solve the case and win her heart. Where the book realy sparkles is in the dialogue. Our hero, Sweeney is as sarcastic as he is street smart and goes up against many who are (nearly) his equal. I do wonder how much of this charm made it into the original filmed version (which retains the book's title) with Anita Ekberg. I shall be seeking out. As will I be seeking out more Fredric Brown. I'm already halfway through one of the excellent "Megapack" cheap kindle deals of his science-fiction work and am in love with it. I see he's highly regarded among aficionados, but Fredric Brown really is an author who's work deserves greater recognition.
A glorious piece of the detective/noir genres! I first read this when I was ten and have been spellbound by this book ever since. The gritty real characters, boozy descriptions and the haze of mystery all create a novel that is almost impossible to put down. In all a fantastic read for anybody that wants a good read that will make you want to keep the pages turning.
The second of Brown's mysteries that I've read (the first was The Fabulous Clipjoint), and this was very nearly as good. In both books, Brown plays with the already-cliched conventions of hardboiled mysteries, and does so with a great sense of fun.