A review by amandagstevens
Trouble Is My Business by Raymond Chandler

4.0

Marlowe short stories? How's that going to work? I'm happy (though not surprised) to say very well. Fewer suspects, quicker solves, same snarky private detective going about his work pretending not to care about anything and getting back up every time he's knocked down. This collection contains four stories.

"Trouble is My Business" -- A day in the life of Marlowe: body count three, held at gunpoint at least that many times, hit in the head once, consumed at least one full bottle of Scotch over the course of sixty pages. Compared to the other three, this story feels a bit rough, the motives of the villains a bit muddled. My guess without researching is that these stories were placed in chronological order of their writing, because each one has a finer form than the one before it.

"Finger Man" -- This one feels especially fresh if you've read all the novels and are used to the setup of Marlowe's getting a case and chasing down leads despite threats and concussions. Marlowe is actually the titular character, witness to a murder and trying to stay alive long enough to testify, and of course simultaneously looking out for a stupid buddy who thinks he can rip off the mob and live to tell about it. Giving Marlowe personal history with this character notches up the stakes from the last story. Chandler is so skilled in trampling his protagonist's heart as well as inflicting bodily harm. The former is always more difficult for the writer and more moving for the reader.

"Goldfish" -- I kind of guessed the big secret of this one (I mean, if I wasn't meant to, the title should have been reconsidered). But it's a good read regardless. A lead surfaces on long-lost stolen pearls, and of course the bodies pile up as humans do what humans will, chasing the promise of wealth with no regard for consequences. The twist here: Marlowe gets financially well compensated for his work. I'm not sure that has happened before in this entire series.

"Red Wind" -- The best story of the lot. This (even more so than the others) is the prose I know to expect from Chandler, as proved by the opening paragraph:

There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge.

Marlowe gets pulled into a mystery when a man is shot dead in front of him (in aforementioned cocktail lounge), and kept in the thick of things by his concern for a woman who's caught in the middle. It's a sad and lovely story, a perfect closing.

My edition includes the foreword by Chandler, and I love his honest perspective on the evolution of the genre and his thoughts on what a detective story is and isn't, his ideas on the "perfect" example of his genre not being written yet. Looking forward to completing all Chandler's currently published works with [b:The Simple Art of Murder|2051|The Simple Art of Murder|Raymond Chandler|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1427858651s/2051.jpg|1165594].