Dashiell Hammett's The Maltese Falcon

Time for another one I made earlier - an article I was honoured to be asked to write for the Murder Room on one of the absolute classics of crime fiction.

If you're a fan of The Maltese Falcon (and why wouldn't you be?) there are a bunch of other great articles in this series, from Lawrence Block, Steve Cavanagh and Barry Forshaw. Go check them out.

Original and Best: Mason Cross on The Maltese Falcon

The Murder Room, March 2015

Before Philip Marlowe, there was Sam Spade. Before Sam Spade? Well, before Dashiell Hammett came up with Spade, this particular cultural archetype simply didn’t exist.

Spade made his only appearance in a full-length novel in The Maltese Falcon, one of the set texts in the crime fiction curriculum. There had been other gumshoes in the pulps before, of course, but none quite like this. Spade’s quick wit and moral complexity set him apart from all other comers. The verisimilitude of Hammett’s writing helped a lot too, drawing on his experience of working for the Pinkerton Detective Agency. In Hammett’s own words, from his introduction to the 1934 edition of his masterpiece, The Maltese Falcon:

Spade has no original. He is a dream man in the sense that he is what most of the private detectives I worked with would like to have been and in their cockier moments thought they approached . . . a hard and shifty fellow, able to take care of himself in any situation, able to get the best of anybody he comes in contact with, whether criminal, innocent by-stander or client.

I first read the novel while at university, and although I gravitated more towards Raymond Chandler’s prose, Hammett’s writing also had much to teach me, both in its economy of language and the moral ambiguity of the characters. There are two main characters in the book: Spade and the femme fatale, a woman who goes by many names, but eventually settles on Brigid O’Shaughnessy. Neither is quite what they seem. Although Spade is the protagonist, Hammett keeps his character’s thoughts from us, merely hinting at them in the way he answers a phone call, or rolls a cigarette.
 
The Maltese Falcon has been so referenced, pastiched and ripped off over the years that it almost reads like an extremely well-executed pastiche itself. All of the classic tropes of the noir thriller are here: the convoluted murder mystery, the McGuffin everybody’s after, the scheming femme fatale, the murdered partner, the exasperated cops, and, of course, Hammett’s prototype tough-talking PI.

But Hammett’s book rises above the sea of imitators for two notable reasons. First, it’s just so well written. Hammett was perhaps less poetic than Chandler (no bishops kicking holes in any stained-glass windows here), but he managed to make the genre his own with his understated observations and terse dialogue, such as when the cops bluster that Spade can’t stay just ahead of trouble for ever, and he coolly shoots back, ‘Stop me when you can’. Or when Spade sums up a moral code that even he does not fully understand with the simple statement: ‘When a man’s partner is killed he’s supposed to do something about it’.

The second reason is the ending. Without giving anything away, the book’s climax seems to be settling into a satisfactory, old-fashioned denouement where the characters sit in a room and talk the mystery to a conclusion. Then, in the last few pages, Hammett hits us with a doozy of a reversal. Suffice to say, the real mystery of the piece is Sam Spade, not the falcon or the whodunit.

The climax is an emotional gut punch for Spade and the reader alike. You close the book realising that you never really knew the man in whose company you’ve spent the previous two hundred pages. And you realise why The Maltese Falcon has endured as a classic of crime fiction.

Samaritan reviews and upcoming events

Some more excellent blog reviews of The Samaritan - click through to read the full reviews:

Crime Fiction Lover - "It really is a difficult novel to put down. The characterisation is strong, the sense of place powerful and Cross’s scenic descriptions vivid and compelling. This is a very well written crime thriller and Carter Blake deserves many more outings."

The Crime Warp - "The Samaritan has a plot you can stick your teeth into.  Cross keeps us guessing and throws a few curve balls in to keep us on our toes."

The Book Blonde - "A breathtaking and adrenalin-soaked ride. The Samaritan is immensely readable, with shocks and twists along the way, before reaching a thrilling conclusion."

The Samaritan isn't out in the United States until February, but I've already had American readers getting in touch to say they can't wait. In the meantime, here's a preview of Pegasus's American cover, which is very cool:

I'll be at Bloody Scotland with Simon Kernick, Tom Wood and GJ Brown next weekend, so if you're going along to this excellent festival (and why wouldn't you?) please come talk to me.

I've added a few library dates as well, including three for Book Week Scotland. The library dates are all free, so there's no excuse not to come and heckle.

Edinburgh International Book Festival 2015

I was delighted to be asked back to the Edinburgh International Book Festival for a second year running. This year by luck or design I was sharing an event with my fellow Orion (relative) newbie Steve Cavanagh, who was talking about his excellent debut novel The Defence. He's up for the festival's First Book Award, so if you loved The Defence as much as I did, click here to vote for it.

First of all I stopped by Blackwell's bookshop on South Bridge Street and signed some copies of The Samaritan and Killing Season. It's a great shop with an excellent crime section, which I heartily recommend if you're in the neighbourhood.

I headed over to the book festival, hosted as always in the magnificent Charlotte square, checked into the author's yurt and caught up with Steve. We met up with our interviewer, fellow crime author Russel D Mclean and talked about the format. Shortly before game time, we were mic-d up and escorted to the theatre.

This was an unusual event for me because for once I wasn't the sole American crime fiction writer on the bill. Steve writes New York-set legal thrillers and hails from Belfast, so we both got to talk about the benefits and challenges of writing US-based books, our transatlantic influences, and how we do our research. Steve spoke about the differences between the American and British legal systems, and why the UK system doesn't lend itself particularly well to the genre.

We covered a multitude of other topics, from how we got an agent and published, to who we would cast in the movie. I discovered that Steve's authenticity in fight scenes comes from his boxing days, and that the first novel has a carefully-designed Alice in Wonderland subtext.

After the main event, we met some readers, signed some copies and then retreated to the festival grounds to drink a few beers under the stars. For some reason a pair of F-16s performed a flyby. I suspect it wasn't related to our event, but I wouldn't discount it: this is a book festival that knows how to make its authors feel welcome.

John D MacDonald's Cape Fear

It's summer, and we all know what that means - reruns!

Here's another Murder Room blog I wrote earlier this year, on one of my favourite thrillers by one of my favourite writers.

Again, mine is one of several pieces on an underrated classic, and if you like this taster, you should click on over to The Murder Room to see what Steve Cavanagh, Barry Forshaw and Becky Masterman have to say about John D MacDonald's influential gem.

Mason Cross on Cape Fear

The Murder Room, February 2015

John D. MacDonald’s classic novel of revenge and moral ambiguity was first published in 1957 under the title The Executioners. It would later become famous under a different name, when it was adapted for the screen twice as Cape Fear: J. Lee Thompson’s 1962 version starred Robert Mitchum and Gregory Peck, and the 1991 remake by Martin Scorsese, this time starring Robert De Niro and Nick Nolte. The change of name was a good idea for a couple of reasons: for one, Cape Fear is just a better title. For another, its original moniker is kind of a spoiler.

MacDonald’s plot is artfully simple: a driven psychopath by the name of Max Cady is released from a long prison stretch, hell-bent on getting revenge against family man Sam Bowden, the person whose testimony sent him down. As Bowden discovers that the law has its limits when it comes to a man like Cady, he realises he’ll have to take matters into his own hands to protect his family.

If you’re only familiar with Scorsese’s slightly over-the-top film version, you may be surprised by how lean and linear MacDonald’s original is. A product of an era when not every thriller had to challenge the phone book for page count, the novel tells a simple but compelling story in fewer than two hundred pages. Its brevity makes it all the more impressive, in that it does double duty both as a page-turning revenge thriller and a complex, thoroughly examined morality play.

Bowden, like many of MacDonald’s protagonists, is a thoughtful and reflective man given to bouts of introspection. This character type really comes into its own in Cape Fear, because the central conflict is as much an intellectual one as it is a physical one. In the book, Bowden is pitted not just against the single-minded brutality of Cady, but against his own morality and regard for the rule of law.

I first read Cape Fear in my early twenties. Reading it again now, it’s easy to see how it’s influenced my work, as well as that of so many other writers. The psychopathic but wily antagonist of The Killing Season definitely has some of Max Cady’s DNA, and I’d like to think that some of MacDonald’s characterisation of his flawed, conflicted hero has rubbed off on me too. It’s that element that seems to have interested Scorsese, who upped the ante in his film by having Bowden deliberately suppress evidence to have Cady put away in the first place.

Cape Fear is a compelling study of what happens when the laws and safeguards of civilised society are a hopelessly inadequate response to an existential threat. But much more importantly than that, it’s a brilliantly written, unputdownable thriller.

Reviews and readings

Wow, is it really over two weeks since I last blogged? What have I been doing with my time?

Since last we met, there have been a couple of great new reviews, one online and another one in an actual newspaper.

The Peterborough Evening Telegraph liked it:

"If you love Michael Connelly and Robert Crais thrillers that pack action and nerve-shredding suspense while moving to a cool Los Angeles vibe, you'll rave about this ... Cross - amazingly a Glasgow writer - makes the manhunt so intensely gripping it plays like a Hollywood blockbuster in your head."

Euro Crime posted a fantastic review, saying:

"I was fascinated by the story and once started I just could not put it down. This author who has only published one other book so far, writes with such dexterity and expert plotting that one would think he has many, many titles to his credit. I must try and get hold of his earlier book as I don't think I can wait until next year to read more about Carter Blake. Extremely well recommended."

I'm really pleased that for the most part people seem to be enjoying book 2, and I'm always happy when someone likes it without having read the first one. It can be a tough balance to get right, making sure a book works in the context of a series and in its own right, but so far the feedback is good.

The Daily Record ran a nice feature on The Samaritan as part of their Book Club on Saturday too:

In general, the publicity for The Samaritan is going really, really well. Waterstones have been great as usual, hosting me not just for the launch, but for readings and signings at the East Kilbride store and the brand-new refitted Braehead store as well.

At times, the business of writing a novel can feel like butting your head against a brick wall, so it's actually rather nice to get out and talk to people who are enjoying what you do.

 

  

I'm going to be pretty busy over the next few weeks - I have rewrites on the third Blake book to complete, and I'm going to be at the Edinburgh International Book Festival on 21st August with fellow-Orion dude, legal eagle, and all round good guy Steve Cavanagh.

I've decided to simplify things by hosting all events on the main website, so if you'd like to find out more about Edinburgh and where I'm going to be next, best have a look at the events page!

Samaritan reviews

A couple more excellent reviews of The Samaritan - great to see it's going down well so far.

Geoffrey Wansell in the Daily Mail (who also liked Killing Season) said:

"Cross has a fine grasp of Angelino authenticity, and puts it to full use. He's a writer who has his own voice and likes to use it, and the locale, to heighten the tension to breaking point."


It's increasingly rare for new authors to be reviewed in the national press, so I'm incredibly pleased that The Samaritan has notched up great reviews in both the Mail and the Independent.


I'm also really pleased that it's going down well with bloggers, particularly this excellent write-up from blogger, writer and all-round crime fic expert Crime Thriller Girl:

"Set in Florida and California, The Samaritan showcases some great locations (including one very creepy and atmospheric one that I can’t mention – sorry, it’d be too much of a spoiler) to create a vivid backdrop to the story. With great characters, fab locations and a super-twisty plot, The Samaritan is an absolute page-turner. And I already can’t wait for the next Carter Blake novel – I think this is a series that’s going to run and run."


It's also been picking up mostly great Amazon and Goodreads reviews. These are really important for reaching new readers, so if you liked the book, please take a minute to leave a review. Whether it's from newspaper critics, bloggers or readers, it's really good to get feedback.

The Samaritan isn't out in the US until February, but here's a sneak peak of the American cover, which I really like.

Robert Bloch's Psycho

 

I wrote about Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho for The Murder Room last year, so it was nice to be asked to contribute another piece this year about the source material: Robert Bloch's original novel.

Some other writers were asked to pitch in with articles to coincide with Orion bringing the novel out as a UK ebook for the first time, and if you're a fan of Norman Bates, you should really over head to The Murder Room to see what the likes of RJ Ellory, Steve Cavanagh and Barry Forshaw have to say about it. Before you rush over there, you can read my contribution right here.

Mason Cross on Psycho

The Murder Room, January 2015

Being a perverse sort, I tend to do things in completely the wrong order.

For example, I actually watched Psycho 2 before I saw the original, on late-night TV some time past my bedtime in the early 1990s. It wasn’t until a couple of years later that I finally saw Alfred Hitchcock’s classic original, which blew me away and still rewards repeat viewings to this day. It’s one of my absolute favourite films, and a masterclass in the art of the cinematic thriller.

Two decades on, I belatedly got around to reading the book that started the whole thing. As a voracious reader of thrillers, it seems strange that I’ve left it until now to read Robert Bloch’s Psycho, but in my defence it’s been hard to get hold of until recently.

It was difficult to know what to expect from the novel. Often, you’re judging how a movie holds up to the book from which it was adapted. In this case, it’s very much the other way around. The basic story is pretty much exactly the one that Hitch filmed: a bored secretary steals forty grand to start a new life, goes on the lam and is murdered in the shower of the Bates Motel. Her fiancé and sister investigate, only to discover more than they bargained for.

It’s a great plot, and you can see what attracted Hitchcock to it – to the extent that he reputedly bought up every copy of the novel in order to preserve the twist. Of course, people no longer read or watch Psycho to be surprised by the twist, any more than they go to McDonald’s to be surprised by the menu.

Following an expanded opening that helps us get to know Marion Crane a little better than her literary counterpart, the film sticks very closely to its source. The fact that it was made within a couple of years of the book’s publication probably made that more feasible – nothing needed to be updated or modernised. While it’s easy to see the added value Hitchcock brought to the visuals, there’s a pleasant surprise in the way the book makes use of the advantages of its own medium, giving us much more insight into Norman Bates’s inner life. It ends up complementing the movie very well, showing us the same events from a different point of view.

Reading Bloch’s Psycho gave me a new appreciation for how much his story and Hitchcock’s film have influenced me as a writer. When I’m plotting a novel, I tend to come up with the big scenes first: the sudden outbursts of violence and dramatic reversals that will, I hope, hook the reader. When I’m writing, I’m always imagining the visuals: how a particular shot will be framed, the expression on a character’s face as they deliver a line of dialogue. Psycho, on both page and screen, is a textbook thriller: it sucks the audience in and then mercilessly pulls the rug out from under them. I’m always looking for a way to wrong-foot the reader in my books, although it’s unlikely I’ll ever come up with a twist that rivals the secret of Norman Bates.

This isn’t the first time I’ve read the book that inspired a classic movie, and often I’ve been underwhelmed by the source material: Peter Benchley’s Jaws is a case in point. The fantastic thing about Psycho is that even if you’ve seen the movie a dozen times, the book still delivers its own unique thrills.