Product Description
A couple of missing wives—one a rich man's and one a poor man's—become the objects of Marlowe's investigation. One of them may have gotten a Mexican divorce and married a gigolo and the other may be dead. Marlowe's not sure he cares about either one, but he's not paid to care.

CUSTOMER REVIEWS (Average Customer Rating: 4.5 based on 38 reviews)

Raymond Chandler at his best

Except for PLAYBACK, there are no bad Raymond Chandler novels, there are only very good and great. THE LADY IN THE LAKE for the most part is close to great, though the transparency of the plot probably drops it to merely very good. Nonetheless, its virtues are the virtues of Chandler's best books, witty, unforgettable dialogue, marvelously drawn characters, and an attention to detail that places you on the scene of the crime. The book's vices are those of his other books: Chandler simply didn't care about plot. Except for PLAYBACK (where the problem with the book is that it takes Marlowe out of Los Angeles and like a fish out of water places him in a completely alien town), the problem with every Chandler book is the same, the minimal effort he expended on plot. Chandler realized (correctly, I believe) that plot was not the central element of a good book. If you say of a writer that they write great plots, it is usually taken as a backhanded compliment, meaning that they aren't good with prose, character, or setting. Even so, at least some attention should be given to plot. For Chandler it was something to be gotten out of the way as quickly as possible so that he could get on with the things that mattered to him. Of the Big Three of American hardboiled detective fiction (the other two being, of course, Dashiell Hammett and Ross MacDonald), Chandler was the weakest of the three with plot. But to prove how relatively unimportant an element plot is, the only one of the three to be good at plot, MacDonald, is usually considered the weakest of the three writers.

If you have ever read a detective story, you will instantly grasp that the lady in the lake isn't whom everyone assumes it is. It is so obvious that it is almost a tad insulting as a reader to have the plot device employed so early in the book. But from that moment on the book is an utterly delicious read, with a string of grotesque characters (in the original sense of the word), delightful misunderstandings, and devious dealings. If in his earlier books the persistent message was the hollowness and superficiality of greater Los Angeles, here it is extended to the rest of the state as well. The cynical mockery that Marlowe extends to his adopted homeland is unceasing. When Marlowe finally does admire or compliment someone or something, he means something. He doesn't praise easily.

The greatest part of any Chandler novel is the way he plays around with the English language. I usually don't mark or underline the novels I read (I underline nonfiction in pencil -- I think underlining in ink should be a federal crimes or at the very least books should be dispensed with a scary tag like pillows, making it sound like you will go to jail if you ink a volume), but I make an exception with Chandler. I love to pick up one of his books and go back and read the lines that most struck me at the time. Like:

Dergamo spun on his heel and looked at me wonderingly. "Did he say 'whom'?"

"Yeah, but don't hit him," I said. "There is such a word."

Dergamo licked his lips. "I knew there was," he said. "I often wondered where they kept it."

Or there are the unexpected and striking metaphors: "'Go on,' he said, in a voice the size of a marble." Or "I let the remark fall to the ground, eddying like a soiled feather."

I think it is a mark of just how good Raymond Chandler is that despite writing in a disparaged genre, he has always been regarded by many writers and literary critics to be a great writer. Even in the forties many important arbiters of literary taste like Edmund Wilson recognized his talent. Ironically, Chandler's books, though they have long been critically acclaimed and have never gone out of print, were not big sellers. Though they made him a living, he had to work as a screenwriter to make most of his money (and he did some great work in Hollywood, having written some great screenplays like DOUBLE INDEMNITY for Billy Wilder [an imaginative adaptation of James Cain's short novel] and STRANGERS ON A TRAIN for Alfred Hitchcock]). Chandler probably has more readers today than he did while these books were being published. If by any bizarre chance someone is reading this review who hasn't read him, they should resolve to do so immediately. He truly is one of the best writers America has produced.
January 03, 2009

Good Book

This book is a pretty quality read. I liked it a lot better than Dashiell Hammett's stories. I think Raymond Chandler is the best writer that I've read in this genre. The book is often, funny, inventive and keeps you guessing.
July 15, 2008

Philip Marlowe Finds Another Body...

The Lady in the Lake is one of Chandler's best. Philip Marlowe finds a body--but whose body is it? Laced with Chandler's wry commentary on everything from rich dames to down and out war veterans, this book is an absolute delight from the first page to the last. Classic Chandler. Sharp, funny, full of surprising twists, and always the most original prose around. Highest recommendation for an American "noir" novel.
May 01, 2008

Chandler worthy of hype.

A 2007 summer reading list mini review.

I recently read a book celebrating the 100th birthday of Raymond Chandler. In the book, many current detective writers tell Phillip Marlowe stories and then explain the effect that Marlowe and Chandler had on their careers. The praise was glowing, and I picked up Lady in the Lake, to see if it was warranted. After the first chapter, I had an inkling the praise was justified. After the second, I knew.

The story of a Marlowe trailing an executives missing wife is excellent, but it is Chandler's use of language in dialogue that is amazing. The following exchange happens late in the book when a desk clerk uses the word whom and the crusty cop with Chandler is taken aback:

Degarmo spun on his heel and looked at me wonderingly. 'Did he say, "whom"?'
'Yeah, but don't hit him' I said. There is such a word.'
Degarmo licked his lips. ' I knew there was,' he said ' I often wondered where they kept it. ...'

The wise cracking atmosphere through the maze of dead bodies and corrupt officials is why I like Marlowe so much. And while there have been so many imitators through the years, I am amazed how fresh and innovative Chandler seems in comparison. Chandler and Marlowe are definitely worthy of all the acclaim.
July 16, 2007

THE HILLS OF CALIFORNIA

Phillip Marlowe, Raymond Chandler's classic noir hard-boiled private detective forever literarily associated with Los Angeles and its means streets gets a little off-track when he goes to the mountains in search of the inevitable exotic/diabolical 'missing woman' (as here, usually with a hidden past). Sure there is plenty of sparse but functional dialogue, physical action and a couple of plot twists, particularly around the identity of the various `dames' of the piece that caught me off guard but the plot line lost energy as it gathered steam trying to get up those mountain passes. Give me those background oil derricks churning out the wealth while looking for Rusty Regan in Big Sleep or the run down stucco flats in pursue of Moose's Velma in Farewell, My Lovely any day. Still, as always with Chandler you get high literature in a plebian package. Read on.
June 20, 2007

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