I just started reading "The Big Sleep" by Raymond Chandler (known most famously for his witty one liners) and could not resist leaving a small note about the book. This book published in 1939, is believed to be the starting point of the detective/crime pulp fiction novel. It is hard to believe that he brought in everything from blackmailing, gambling to pornography in a book - way back in 1939.
In Ian Rankin's words - The Big Sleep is a story of sex, drugs, blackmail and high society narrated by a cynical tough guy Philip Marlowe. As such, it provides the template for much of the urban crime fiction which came after, as well as most Hollywood thrillers. What sets it apart from the crowd, however, is the quality of mind which conceived it. Chandler's pulp credentials show in the twisting of the plot, yet it reads with the simple inevitability of classic tragedy.
For now, I am going to leave you with a fragment from the book - this is in the first page, when detective Philip Marlowe meets the seductive daughter of a millionaire.
"You're awfully tall," she said. Then she giggled with secret merriment. Then she turned her body slowly and lithely, without lifting her feet. She tilted herself towards me on her toes. She fell straight back into my arms. I had to catch her or let her crack her head on the tessellated floor. I caught her under her arms, and she went rubber-legged on me instantly. I had to hold her close to hold her up. When her head was against my chest she screwed it around and giggled at me.
"You're cute," she giggled. "I'm cute too."
There are songs of love. And there are songs of pain. And then there are the songs of nostalgia.
But not too many songs can blend the three feelings together, and spice it up with a panache of Rock 'n roll that lay only within the creating power of the 60's. This quintessential classic rock number - #364 in "The Rolling Stones' 500 Best songs of all time" list - very succinctly validates the biggest argument against Atheism.
Eric Clapton is God. Eric Clapton exists. Therefore God exists.
So what makes this song so divine, you ask?
Think of the dark lady in your life. The one you loved the most, and who hurt you the most.The one you can never forgive or forget. Get or get over. The one you can't stop hating, can't stop loving. Well, picture her now, at that moment of eternity, when you look into the crouching tigers of her dark eyes, and know its never going to be the same again.
All you have ahead of you then, is the White Room.
And that's the place you wait, while the sun never shines.You hold her hand at the train window, as she sits, and try to convince her for the last time. You urge her to give it one more shot. You apologize for everything - for what you are, and what she is. You promise and beg, and tell her it will change. You tell her, you will change. But she is distant. In her head it is already over.
"No strings can secure me", she says at the station.
And as you walk out, you find suddenly that your own need is just beginning. And that's when the lyrics of White room start making sense to you. But the train's already left, and its just the beginning of an eternity sad time. No way to deal with it, except to get lost in the theatrics of thunderous bass drums and Clapton's sometimes extended solo, and dwell upon it as year pass in the brief interlude of the song.
And then when vocals come in again, years have already passed. And you bump into her again at a party. Time has helped you move on, you have lost yourself in the mediocrity of normal life - but the mere sight of her in the hard crowd, strokes that old feelings again and makes them resurface. But she has moved on, and she is almost kind when she talks to you.
At the party she was kindness in the hard crowd.
Consolation for the old wound now forgotten
The song, made mostly of colorful four syllable phrases, was coined by lyricist Pete Brown. Accompanied by bassist Jack Bruce and had Clapton on guitars.Along with "Sunshine of your Life", it became one of the most notable songs of Cream's career as a band. It is the sort of song that only grows on you with time, and leaves you with a feeling of longing and nostalgia for what once was.
And eventually, as the song finishes and the mediocrity of life takes over again, what you are really left with, are the last two lines of the song.
Ill sleep in this place with the lonely crowd;
Lie in the dark where the shadows run from themselves
****
Cream
- Jack Bruce - Bass guitar, vocals
- Eric Clapton - Guitars
- Ginger Baker - Drums, Tympani
I just started reading "The Big Sleep" by Raymond Chandler (known most famously for his witty one liners) and could not resist leaving a small note about the book. This book published in 1939, is believed to be the starting point of the detective/crime pulp fiction novel. It is hard to believe that he brought in everything from blackmailing, gambling to pornography in a book - way back in 1939.
