I enjoyed the Himes a lot and have since picked up a few more
of his
books. At the same time, let me express some odd feelings of
white
guilt over being amused at what a rube Jackson is. The book
also seems
to gain energy by its pastiche quality. There's the
slapstick, the
trickster/scam story, the gritty realism (the speedball
scenes and the
shooting room are especially intense, and, as someone noted,
the graphic
and unemotional rendering of the throat cutting), and the
superhero
cops. Grave Digger and Coffin Ed gain a lot of power by their
absence.
Very charismatic figures--punctuated by their unusual,
mantra-like
words.
My understanding is that Himes did not know Harlem well and
the vivid
scene is strongly imagined. Also, I thought he viewed his
crime novels
as quick knock-offs, far less important than his works like
Lonely
Crusade (?) and If He Hollers.
Willeford wrote a short memorial piece on Himes, whom he
strongly
admired, which ran I think in the Miami Herald shortly after
Himes'
death. (The reference is in the Herron bio.) Incidentally,
tomorrow is
the 10th anniversary of Willeford's death.
Doug Levin
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