The Wounded and the Slain

David Goodis has a reputation as one of the bleakest of Noir writers, and it is quite evident in "The Wounded and the Slain", an expertly crafted psychological foray into the fractured psyche of an emotionally and sexually scarred man who may be beyond redemption. With workman-like prose, Goodis does a fantastic job of creating a detailed atmosphere, both physically (the potrayal of a 1950's Jamaican resort and the seedy side of town on the outskirts is vividly portrayed) and psychologically (we get to inside the minds of these characters, especially Bevan and Cora). The suspense, although not plot or action driven, never lets up, and I found myself fascinated by this pessimistic, emotional journey into the dark side if noir. A great entry into the Hard Case series, with yet another stunning cover by Glen Orbik.

David Goodis is not a household name on the order of Dashiell Hammett or James M. Cain, and it's hard to understand why. Goodis was as equally well known in mid-20th century pulp fiction as his contemporaries, not only for his violent, colorful prose but also for his willingness to take on subject matter not ordinarily dealt with even in the pulps. THE WOUNDED AND THE SLAIN, first published in 1955 and resurrected by Hard Case Crime, is an excellent example of Goodis's work and his unabashed look at topics considered sensitive for the times. THE WOUNDED AND THE SLAIN concerns James and Cora Bevan, two good people who find their marriage failing despite their best efforts. Cora is psychologically damaged --- the reader learns the how and why of it late in the tale --- and James, patient to a fault, drowns his frustrations in alcohol. They travel to Kingston, Jamaica, in an attempt to make things right, but the trip only serves to accentuate their difficulties. James goes on an alcoholic bender, while Cora becomes attracted to another man who makes his intentions toward her quite clear. James continues his drinking binge in the Kingston slums, soon finding himself in a terrible difficulty that results in tragedy for a number of people. The situation only gets worse when James tries to make things right and becomes the victim of a vicious blackmailer. It is, interestingly enough, Cora who must make the right decisions, ones that ultimately result in her indirectly confronting her own demons. She attempts to come to the aid of her husband, but that may be too little and too late. Goodis's work would be good, even worthy, on these elements alone, but it is made all the more worthwhile by his subtle explorations of racial and economic issues that remain pertinent to this day. To some extent, THE WOUNDED AND THE SLAIN could be Goodis's own story, insofar as the author had his own demons that he faced throughout his life with varying degrees of success. The reprinting of this dark, enigmatic novel by Hard Case hopefully will revive interest in this fine writer, who in recent decades has become undeservedly obscure. --- Reviewed by Joe Hartlaub

Since 2004, HARD CASE CRIME has done a fantastic job of both continuing on the pulp fiction tradition, as well as digging up old gems. David Goodis's THE WOUNDED AND THE SLAIN is no exception to the company's stellar work, as deserves a spot on the shelf of any noir fan. THE WOUNDED AND THE SLAIN is the tale of James Bevan, a down-and-out drunk and his frigid wife Cora. After an affair goes awry, Bevan has a breakdown, and the only cure is a getaway in Jamaica. Together, both are thrown down equal paths of destruction: James's in the form of Jamaica's seedy underbelly and Cora in the form of a brutish lug who wants to do more than talk. Goodis's expert style, often swifting from third to fist person in the same paragraph, accentuates the trouble state of the characters, the plot moves like a rocket, and the characters are well drawn and unique, even if the psychology behind their actions are somewhat dated. The book is a must, not only for a Hard Case Crime fan (most of whom have it on the shelf already) but any lover of crime fiction.

James and Cora Bevan have a miserable marriage. They blame themselves for the problems in it (sexual and otherwise), but invariably look for outside solutions to their despair (he the bottle, she another man) forgoing communication entirely. After nine years of this, they've almost completely given up on happiness, but have decided to take a vacation in Jamaica in hopes of one last chance. The first chapter of The Wounded and the Slain, author David Goodis (who is probably best known for Dark Passage and Shoot the Piano Player, films based on his novels) shows the Bevans wallowing in their self-pity, but also shows the love they still feel for each other. It's a difficult chapter to read, and I nearly drowned in the monotonous sustained self-loathing (especially from James's point of view) pouring from the page. Luckily, by the middle of the second chapter, things got more interesting. Not happier, mind you, just more interesting. The Wounded and the Slain is not a pleasant read. It is easy to understand why it has been out of print since its first publication over fifty years ago: I can see potential publisher after potential publisher say, "Who would want to buy this?" because if you are unfamiliar with the depths of human misery, David Goodis will take you on a guided tour. It takes a publisher with a distinctive vision to look past its dismal sales potential and see its literary and historical merits. The last book that got me this depressed was Chris Ware's graphic novel, Jimmy Corrigan: The Smartest Kid on Earth, but Ware's medium allows for the use of images to get his point across, where Goodis does it all with words. (Ware's title is misleading, as well, whereas Goodis slaps his intentions right on the title page.) Goodis's skill at uncommon description is unparalleled. You need only step back from the page for a moment to realize that he is not just telling you about people -- he is putting you inside them! The pivotal bar fight in chapter three of The Wounded and the Slain is the best example of this talent: as each blow landed, I knew what each individual was thinking and feeling at that instant, and Goodis deftly switches among the array of characters. At the end, I felt as if I had been in the middle of the fracas, that every punch had not only been thrown by me, but also had landed on me. It was exhausting, but it was also a revelation: no author had ever gotten me so completely involved ever before. But despite bringing his readers face to face with such a tragic cadre of silent sufferers, Goodis thankfully cannot resist adding a final note of hope. Allowing for the possibility of redemption, showing us that these characters do indeed have other sides to them, keeps The Wounded and the Slain from being just a succession of scenes in a morose milieu, and makes the characters relatable, giving the book real emotional power.

David Goodis's noir novels have been described as "suicide notes." "The Wounded and the Slain" is no exception. If you like your plots bleak and your anti-heroes in extremis, with lots of heavy psychological and philosophical musing, Goodis is the noir writer for you. Action is not the main point here. The detective-story plot, involving murder and blackmail, doesn't really get going until about halfway through the book. Goodis's main purpose is to present us with a character study of a white-collar alcoholic, his repressed wife, and the misery that plays out between them in an exotic locale. James and Cora Bevan are a couple on the rocks. James began their marriage with a healthy libido, but Cora found sex revolting and painful. Cora tried at first to meet James's needs, but it was always a strain and they gradually gave up on intimacy with eachother. To make things worse, they don't have kids because Cora had two miscarriages. In despair, before he became impotent, James turned to a prostitute, with tragic results. Now they are attempting a geographic cure, in Jamaica. Wallowing in guilt, James seems poised to drink himself to death, while Cora finds herself attracted to another man. Cora knows, however, that even if she responded to the new guy's overtures, sooner or later he would want intimacy with her. She would be unable to meet his sexual needs any more than she can meet James's. As for James, he seems to have learned nothing from the tragic results of his slumming with the prostitute. Or maybe feels compelled to repeat that disaster. Because soon, he makes a night-time journey to a nightmarish sailors' bar in the slums of Jamaica, where the real horror begins... The strengths of this book, for me, were the portrait of the seedy side of Jamaica and the character studies of the people James meets there. The low-life bar, the street full of shacks with no numbers on them, a hell house swelling with ganja smoke, a muddy hole covered in planks full of leaking water and rats, all form a dark and disturbing contrast to the ordered and civilized world of the tourist hotel where James and Cora begin the novel. The Jamaicans are presented sympathetically and with depth. I was particularly impressed with Inspector Archinroy, the implacable, multi-racial policeman in charge of investigating the murder that becomes central to the latter half of the book. Over the course of the novel, James and Cora are completely transformed by their trip to the dark side of Jamaica. For many mystery novelists, even of the noir variety, this would call for a redemptive ending. But Goodis avoids tying things up neatly for us. By the end we are left teetering, still wondering where the next blow will fall. The Hard Case Crime edition of this classic fifties novel is reasonably priced and the cover art by Glen Orbik is a pleasure.