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    Description

    Los Angeles PI Philip Marlowe is working for the Sternwood family. Old man Sternwood, crippled and wheelchair-bound, is being given the squeeze by a blackmailer and he wants Marlowe to make the problem go away. But with Sternwood's two wild, devil-may-care daughters prowling LA's seedy backstreets, Marlowe's got his work cut out - and that's before he stumbles over the first corpse.

    Raymond Chandler was born in Chicago in 1888 and moved to England with his family when he was 12. He attended Dulwich College, Alma Mater to some of the 20th century’s most renowned writers. Returning to America in 1912, he settled in California, worked in a number of jobs, and later married.

    It was during the Depression era that he seriously turned his hand to writing and his first published story appeared in the pulp magazine Black Mask in 1933, followed six years later by his first novel. The Big Sleep introduced the world to Philip Marlowe, the often imitated but never-bettered hard-boiled private investigator. It is in Marlowe’s long shadow that every fictional detective must stand – and under the influence of Raymond Chandler’s addictive prose that every crime author must write.

    ©1939 Raymond Chandler (P)2014 Audible, Ltd.

    Commentaires

    "Anything Chandler writes about grips the mind from the first sentence." ( Daily Telegraph)
    "One of the greatest crime writers, who set standards others still try to attain." ( Sunday Times)
    "Chandler is an original stylist, creator of a character as immortal as Sherlock Holmes." (Anthony Burgess)

    Ce que les auditeurs disent de The Big Sleep

    Notations
    Global
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    Interprétation
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    Commentaires - Veuillez sélectionner les onglets ci-dessous pour changer la provenance des commentaires.

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    • Global
      1 out of 5 stars
    • Interprétation
      1 out of 5 stars
    • Histoire
      5 out of 5 stars
    • abc
    • 16/09/2019

    Laughable voice for the women

    It begins very well ; But as soon Porter try to tell the women, it becomes just laughable.
    Impossible to focus on the story with so bad women voices like this.

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    • Global
      4 out of 5 stars
    • Interprétation
      4 out of 5 stars
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      4 out of 5 stars
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    • Ian C Robertson
    • 09/08/2015

    Class Noir

    There is very little that has not been written or said about Chandler. Interestingly, not much of that critique is negative. Maybe that's because he defined the genre. He is what everyone remembers of Bogart and Becall. He wrote the smart Alec into existence. Like Hammett, he forged a path that so many have followed it is now a ribbon as wide as Hollywood and populated by more wanabees than, perhaps, any other genre. He took pulp fiction and made it mainstream, populated by Mitchum, Gambon, Downey, Gould and many, many more. I haven't done the research, but I suspect that there are more Philip Marlowes credited in movies than any other character.
    So what is defining? I don't know and it's too far down the road to try, but this work (the first credited as a Marlowe mystery and written by Chandler at the ripe age of 51) is the epitome of the class. It has the fast track mouth, the classy babes, the trouble when they walk in the room atmospherics and the rank smell of smoke, whiskey and inexpensive perfume. It has a crime (although, what crime, it is unclear until the credits are rolling), a solution and the great detective that solves every other problem, but this one. Just perfect.
    I enjoyed Ray Porter's performance. It reminds me more of Mitchum than Bogie or Gould. A real, "Who gives a Flying ..." delivery. I'm looking forward to listening to more of him.

    PS: this is an unabridged version. There are plenty of abridged versions, including radio plays, but the devil is in the detail with Chandler, so I suggest you don't miss a line.

    74 personnes ont trouvé cela utile

    • Global
      4 out of 5 stars
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      4 out of 5 stars
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      4 out of 5 stars
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    • Aaron
    • 15/01/2015

    Detective Noir at its finest


    It's hard not to picture Bogart, but there is so much that is lost on the silver screen. The movie 'stage punches' and dated cinema left me feeling disconnected, whereas in the book, the grit and brawn came to life in color.

    42 personnes ont trouvé cela utile

    • Global
      5 out of 5 stars
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    • B. Jones
    • 14/02/2017

    Great Story, Narration of female parts annoying

    Sets the bar for noir...
    However, I know the lead female parts are supposed to be annoying but it was too much.

    13 personnes ont trouvé cela utile

    • Global
      3 out of 5 stars
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      4 out of 5 stars
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      3 out of 5 stars
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    • Mark
    • 20/02/2015

    Decent, but a little disappointing

    I was very excited to see that many of Ray Chandler's books were now available with Ray Porter as the narrator. Ray Porter is one of the aces among narrators and Ray Chandler a pioneer among detective novelists - would seem to be a slam dunk for an audio book but it really turned out to be only mediocre. I think the way Chandler writes didn't sync well with the way Porter reads, which made it one of those books that was difficult to follow. I found myself perpetually re-listening to a part trying to figure out what had just happened.

    40 personnes ont trouvé cela utile

    • Global
      5 out of 5 stars
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      4 out of 5 stars
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      5 out of 5 stars
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    • JKC
    • 17/06/2015

    The first southern California literary masterpiece

    Raymond Chandler is the Homer of Lalaland. What Faulkner was for Mississippi, what Hemingway was for the Florida Keys, what Emerson was for Massachusetts; that is what Raymond Chandler was for Los Angeles. He was the author who defined the regional vernacular, who determined the appropriate literary form for all subsequent regional writers.

    You may find that statement overblown. You will say, Raymond Chandler was just a mystery writer,. But that misses the point:

    The mystery novel is the classic genre of southern California. It captures the tawdry, banal, amoral essence of southern California. It reifies the sordid human drama that grubs out its existence against the southland’s pastoral but polluted landscape, it dramatizes the jejune dreams of quick fame and lucre played out by philistines upon a paradise meant for something more ethereal. The southern California murder mystery is the objective correlative of the despoiled dreams and perverted ambitions of the mercenary felon, the felonious mercenary, who attempts to mint southern California’s “beauty in to power” (apologies to Jackson Browne).

    There was no southern California literature before Chandler. Homesick one-offs like F Scott Fitzgerald’s “Last Tycoon” don’t count. Supercilious hatchet jobs by eastern aesthetes like Nathaniel West don’t count. Quick bullet-train excursions by northern Californians like Steinbeck and Norris don’t count. There was no literature in southern California before Chandler. And since Chandler, all writers have been, in some measure, his apprentices. The mystery novel has developed as the essential southern California genre from Chandler through Ross McDonald, and James Ellroy, to the early works of T Jefferson Parker, as a coherent tradition. And the art form could only maintain coherence if it spoke to something tangible and real in the southern California culture.

    So read Raymond Chandler. Read everything. Start at the beginning with “The Big Sleep”, and keep going till you get to “The Long Goodbye”. Don’t ask which is best. It would be like asking which Faulkner novel is best. You can’t just pick and choose. They’re all part of a landscape, and you won’t see the entire panorama until you have read through them all.

    68 personnes ont trouvé cela utile

    • Global
      4 out of 5 stars
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      3 out of 5 stars
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    • Jefferson
    • 07/08/2021

    “It wasn’t a game for knights.”

    It's mid-October and Philip Marlowe, private detective, has donned his powder blue suit: “I was neat, clean, shaved, and sober, and I didn't care who knew it.” Why the dress up? He’s calling on “four million” in the person of rich old General Sternwood. The first thing he sees upon entering the Southern California gothic mansion is a stained-glass panel featuring a knight in armor not really trying to untie a maiden garbed only in her modestly concealing long hair. Before he can get to see the General in his orchid hothouse, he’s approached by twenty-year-old Carmen Sternwood, with her “little sharp predatory teeth.” She notes Marlowe’s height (“Tall, aren’t you?”) and looks (“Handsome too”) before biting and sucking her finger-shaped thumb and falling into his arms. Marlowe coolly tells the smooth old butler, “You ought to wean her. She looks old enough.” Marlowe is duly hired by rich, old, declining, and (to Marlowe anyway) appealing Sternwood to deal with some guy trying to blackmail his younger wayward daughter Carmen. He also lets slip that his older wayward daughter Vivian’s husband Terry Regan has gone missing, but refrains from asking Marlowe to find him. Neither daughter “has any more moral sense than a cat.” It’s quite an opening to Raymond Chandler’s first Philip Marlowe hardboiled detective novel The Big Sleep (1939).

    There will be smut and gambling. There will be a two-bit chiseler and a big-time underworld type and a seedy unsavory blonde and a classy charismatic blonde. There will be some gay types. The book is homophobic as befits its era: in one uncomfortable scene, Marlowe feigns an effeminate voice suitable for a fay book collector (“If you can weigh 195 pounds and look like a fairy, I was doing my best”), and in another uncomfortable scene a young gay man ineffectually punches Marlowe, for “a pansy’s punch” lacks a certain force). There will be some rather clean (given the city and the era) police captains and DAs and such. The Sternwood femme fatale daughters are “cute,” trying to insult or seduce Marlowe by turns, succeeding only in making him say things like, “the rich can go hang themselves” or “I was sick of women.”

    There will be terse and cool dialogue, as when Marlowe is threatened by a gangster on the phone and says, “Listen to my teeth chattering.”

    There will be many similes, some of which fail awfully (e.g., “The General spoke again, slowly, using his strength as carefully as an out-of-work show-girl uses her last good pair of stockings”), most of which succeed finely (e.g., “His Charlie Chan moustache looked as real as a toupee”). Chandler’s good at a vivid, seedy poetry of observation, like “The plants filled the place, a forest of them, with nasty, meaty leaves and stalks like the newly washed fingers of dead men. They smelled as overpowering as boiling alcohol under a blanket.” Or like “The world was a wet emptiness.”

    He writes some nice lines, too, like “Dead men are heavier than broken hearts.”

    Chandler’s also good at making Marlowe withhold his suspicions and conclusions about cases until he suddenly reveals them through conversations with clients and suspects and enemies and the authorities and the like. This keeps us guessing long after Marlowe has figured something out.

    The biggest achievement of Chandler is to present in Marlowe a cynical loner who drinks, plays chess, and says things like “the knights don’t belong in the game” and sees things like stained glass knights failing to rescue nude damsels in distress and thinks things like “Me, I was part of the nastiness now,” but who despite it all remains above the sordid sump of Los Angeles (and the USA) by sticking to his “professional pride,” whereby a Private Investigator keeps his clients’ personal information private and where he refuses to take advantage of amoral women who literally throw themselves at him and where he stubbornly tries (at financial and other costs to himself) to protect the gradual deathwards decline of a rich old man. He’s satisfied with his $25 per day plus expenses. On the other hand, Marlowe is not above smacking a troublesome girl on the side of her face: “Probably all her boyfriends got around to slapping her sooner or later. I could understand why they might.”

    Audiobook reader Ray Porter does female voices too high, whether it’s a Jewess with a “smoothly husky voice,” a spoiled and decadent rich girl, or a character played in the movie by Lauren Bacall. Porter is no Bacall! He's fine with male characters and most importantly with Marlowe, but he is sure poor at female voices, and listening to him try is unpleasant.

    One problem I found with The Big Sleep is that I didn’t really care about the characters, apart from or wait even occasionally including Marlowe. As an early example of the hardboiled detective genre, The Big Sleep is “cute” in the way Carmen Sternwood is cute: unsavory, taut, bone-scraped face, predatory teeth, inane giggle, liable to show up unannounced and naked in your bed one moment and ask you to teach her how to shoot a gun the next.

    But it is great nonetheless. For “What did it matter where you lay once you were dead? In a dirty sump or in a marble tower on top of a high hill. You were dead. You were sleeping the big sleep.”

    4 personnes ont trouvé cela utile

    • Global
      4 out of 5 stars
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      5 out of 5 stars
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      4 out of 5 stars
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    • Fred271
    • 07/08/2015

    Mean streets

    The Bogart / Bacall movie of The Big Sleep is a favorite of mine, but I'd never more than skimmed the novel. It turned out to be interesting to compare the two.

    At first my impression was that the movie loses a lot compared to the novel. Chandler writes beautifully, with genuine wit, and his male characters are well realized, as far as they go. Very good dialog, sensible interactions with the police and D.A.

    In the audiobook, Ray Porter's performance really ties it together. It's hard to imagine a better Marlowe, and he's very good at the rest of the male characters. He's terrible at the women, as he'd be the the first to acknowledge, though given something to work with, as in Farewell, My Lovely, he's much better.

    But then, what female characters? There's Vivian, the Bacall role, who here is basically just corrupt. There's Carmen, who's very crazy and very corrupt. There's Agnes, whose boyfriend is literally willing to die for her, though she regards it as an inconvenience when he does. There's a bookstore owner, "an intelligent Jewess," who doesn't play any real role. And there's Silver Wig, who is held up as an example of womanly virtue, since she stands up for her man. Marlowe actually approves of her, so he crowds her against a wall and kisses her, which she returns. Virtue magnetically drawn to virtue, I guess.

    And that's where the whole thing starts to feel rotten to the core.

    In this novel Chandler is bizarrely misogynistic. Carmen is the most obvious example. She's mad, bad, and dangerous to know, the end. Willful, childish, drug addled, and with some kind of psychosis that bears no relationship to anything I've ever heard of. She's so corrupt that when Marlowe finds her in his bed, naked, he tosses her out of his apartment, and rips out the sheets so he won't have to sleep in them and get, I suppose, bad girl cooties. Afterwards he complains that he woke up with a hangover, not from alcohol, but from women.

    He's similarly homophobic, and goes on and on about it. It's hard to avoid the impression that the two go together, and that Chandler had some real personal problems. His biography seems to support that. Two of the women he knew best claimed he was a repressed homosexual.

    Fine; everyone's got their mishegas. Assuming that Chandler's friends were right about that, it's certainly possible to feel some sympathy, since it was a bad time to be in that position. But Chandler's response here is to join the enemy, in a particularly nasty way. He attempts to sound worldly and knowledgeable about it, as if he's just explaining the facts of life. There's something corrupt in that, and it goes some way toward explaining why I've felt put off whenever I've tried to read Chandler, good a writer as he is. For all that posturing about how "down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid," there's something in Chandler, and in Marlowe, that feels a little shifty.

    This isn't one of those tired arguments about whether or not particular racist or sexist attitudes were just artifacts of their time. Compare Hammett, for example. He's happy enough to show you corruption, but he's not self-righteous about it, his women aren't freaks, and he has a lot of gay characters, without making too much of it. Wilmer, Gutman, and Cairo in the Maltese Falcon, for example (the term "gunsel" that he uses didn't refer to a guy who carried a gun).

    When Marlowe is shown as a paragon of virtue, it doesn't ring true. For example, at the end of the novel, Marlowe has been sapped and shot at, and he's killed a man, as well as saving General Sternwood's daughter from a murder rap. Yet he wants to return his fee, because he hasn't accomplished what he thinks Sternwood really wanted, which is something Sternwood explicitly told him not to look into. This comes off as a clumsily contrived way to show off how righteous Marlowe is. Methinks he doth protest too much.

    The movie takes the good parts out of The Big Sleep and stays out of this Freudian morass, and it's a lot of fun. Far from having Chandler's queasiness about sex, it revels in it, and presents a happy plasma in which everyone is randy. If Marlowe takes a cab, it will have a good looking woman driver, and she'll ask him out. When Marlowe walks into a bookstore to keep an eye on the store across the street, the owner, played by Dorothy Malone, immediately closes the store. (Ah, Dorothy Malone ...) Whether or not it was because the movie censors wouldn't let Hawks mention that characters were gay, they fit into this supercharged atmosphere in a natural way.

    The song that Lauren Bacall sings at one point is a bit weird, no question. But on the whole, the movie comes off as a lot healthier than the novel, and it steals all the best lines.

    35 personnes ont trouvé cela utile

    • Global
      5 out of 5 stars
    • Interprétation
      4 out of 5 stars
    • Histoire
      4 out of 5 stars
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    • Damian
    • 14/08/2019

    A storm of manly metaphor and simile so descriptive

    It is almost overwhelming. “Her eyes narrowed until they were a faint greenish glitter, like a forest pool far back in the shadow of trees. Her fingers clawed at her palm. She stared at me and chopped off a breath.“.
    Now that’s a great turn of phrase. Hollywood and Humphrey Bogart (despite his tremendous presence)came up way short on this one, But I do owe Turner classic movies this great read.
    Tried to watch the movie again the other day and couldn’t understand it – as usual - so I went to the book. Glad I did so. Wonderful writing and a pretty good mystery. The tough guy narration Interspersed with an actual female voice was also excellent. Highly recommended!

    2 personnes ont trouvé cela utile

    • Global
      4 out of 5 stars
    • Interprétation
      5 out of 5 stars
    • Histoire
      3 out of 5 stars
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    • J. C. Edens
    • 05/09/2015

    My first Chandler. Great narration, great writing.

    Some really excellent storytelling and top notch narration. Hard boiled classic, I see why he's been so influential, and it holds up REALLY well. Will buy more in the Marlow series.

    17 personnes ont trouvé cela utile

    • Global
      5 out of 5 stars
    • Interprétation
      5 out of 5 stars
    • Histoire
      5 out of 5 stars
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    • Shom
    • 08/03/2015

    Fascinating

    Absolutely loved it.
    What a fascinating story. well read, too.
    Chandler is the writer I would like to become some day. Clean, scorched, brutal prose. a surety of touch. An absolute lack of hesitation. Fascinating.

    17 personnes ont trouvé cela utile

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    • Global
      3 out of 5 stars
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      1 out of 5 stars
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      4 out of 5 stars
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    • buerodrschneider
    • 03/04/2017

    Problem beim Verstehen des Sprechers /Reklamation

    Haben Sie die Zeit genossen, in der Sie dieses Hörbuch gehört haben? Warum oder warum nicht?

    Ich spreche, lese und höre auch britisches Englisch ganz gut, auch noch den amerikanischen Ostküstenakzent, aber: diesen (!!!) Sprecher verstehe ich nicht (genügend, um den Beschreibungen zu folgen). Sorry. Könnten Sie es in Deutsch umtauschen ?

    Welcher Moment von The Big Sleep ist Ihnen besonders im Gedächtnis geblieben?

    leider keiner

    Wie hätte das Hörbuch besser vorgetragen werden können?

    nicht so viel amerikanischer Akzent

    War es für Sie die Zeit wert, sich The Big Sleep anzuhören?

    bisher nicht

    Was wäre für andere Hörer sonst noch hilfreich zu wissen, um das Hörbuch richtig einschätzen zu können?

    siehe oben

    2 personnes ont trouvé cela utile