![]() The main character, George Stroud - jaded, sardonic, self-contained - is a very dry martini in human form. But the narrative faults, which are not apparent until at least 2/3rds of the way, don't kill the book. The story ultimately resolves rather abruptly and without any punch. It's a slow developing murder story that leaves our protagonist in what should be a terrible bind - but it lacks any suspense - and the psychology behind the characters and situation becomes strained as well. The writing is better than the story deserves. The pleasures here are in voice and attitude as well as in the various portraits, some more detailed than others, of various mid-century new yorkers - chain-smoking drunk-at-midday spouse-cheating 50s noir new yorkers. Kenneth Fearing, who was a fine poet (and a drunk and a marxist) turns out to have had an excellent touch with fiction. ![]() Who else?How does a man escape from himself? No book has ever dramatized that question to more perfect effect than The Big Clock, a masterpiece of American noir. Janoth badly wants to get his hands on that man, and he picks one of his most trusted employees to track him down: George Stroud. Janoth knows there was one witness to his entry into Pauline's apartment on the night of the murder he knows that man must have been the man Pauline was with before he got back but he doesn't know who he was. ![]() ![]() The day after that, Pauline is found murdered in her apartment. The next day, Stroud escorts Pauline home, leaving her off at the corner just as Janoth returns from a trip. One day, before heading home to his wife in the suburbs, Stroud has a drink with Pauline, the beautiful girlfriend of his boss, Earl Janoth. George Stroud is a hard-drinking, tough-talking, none-too-scrupulous writer for a New York media conglomerate that bears a striking resemblance to Time, Inc. ![]()
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