And if the stories aren’t as noteworthy but contain phrases like “she apostrophized”, “corpses were falling around us like pulpy persimmons from the tree” or describe a woman’s breast as having “nipples like split infinitives” he’ll write about that. Because he has done all that work for us and now writes about all the mystery plots that aren’t just unrealistic but defy logic and common sense in every possible way (and often also break the scientist), villainous schemes that only work because the victim a) has an incredibly obscure habit and b) is extremely stupid and “heroes” who can’t interpret the obvious clue until it is (almost) too late to save the damsel in distress (who is of course required in all good bad mysteries).
Or at best find a few truly hilarious phrases in an otherwise meh book.Īnd this is where Bill Pronzini comes in.
Chances are that if you pick up any pulp fiction mystery to read it you will be bored most of the time and smile slightly in some places. Many of them will just have plots that are somewhat ridiculous with some odd phrasing thrown in. Still, not everybody who writes a lot writes truly bad. I already talked about my love of bad books and pulp fiction of any kind is obviously a treasure trove of this after all many authors wrote dozens of books per year, that doesn’t leave much time for elaborate plotting (or much revision). That already tells you how much I enjoyed this. That way I could listen to it during all those times when I needed my hands and/or eyes for something else and couldn’t read my copy of Son of Gun in Cheek. I had read about one-third of this book when I went and bought Gun in Cheek: An Affectionate Guide to the "Worst" in Mystery Fiction, the author’s first book about the worst mystery fiction, as audiobook. But to be honest: there is no way in hell Ellroy has ever read this book. I don't know, I just like to imagine these two men subsequently running into each other at some writer's conference in a bad hotel, and it being awkward. (Correct me if my timeline is off the only mysteries I was reading in 1987 were along the lines of Green Eggs and Ham - would he eat them on a train?) Ellroy was about to hit it big, but really hadn't yet, I don't think. Huh! But then I remembered this was published in 1987 - the year The Black Dahlia came out.
One thing that astounded: one of the authors Pronzini (affectionately) drags is James Ellroy - not singling him out in any way, not grouping him in the chapter of famous authors' blunders, just lumping him in with other completely unknown/forgotten writers for penning clunky, silly, OTT lines. It's mostly just a bunch of insane quotes/plot summaries from terrible mystery novels - how could it not be? Not as good as the first volume: less well-organized (which Pronzini cops to in the introduction!) but also less high-energy, I feel.
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