Alcohol fueled Crime Fiction

[ChristopherGMoore]

Alcoholics write books, too.

Sometimes they write crime fiction. Sometimes they write literary works. No matter what form the novel takes, the real dark star is the bottle.

Think of Dr. Strangelove riding the bomb out of the bomb hatch and into oblivion. Substitute a bottle for a bomb and you find a metaphor that unites a number of books in this genre: The drunken hero/anti-hero. Drinking is not just a life style; it form, shapes, distorts the human condition. Like a moth to flame, we can’t take our eyes off the flutter of wings as they close in on the fire. What is not terribly surprising about these books is their semi-autographical nature. Where the drinking takes place the strip joints, bars, nightclubs, and back alleys also transports the reader into the environment where the drinking takes place. Not every writer who creates a drunk for a hero is an alcoholic. Though looking at the record, it would seem that such a writer is rare.

I’ve been reading James Crumley’s Dancing Bear. His private investigator, Milodragovitch or Milo, moves between a snort of coke and gulping down shots of schnapps. He battles his addiction to booze and drugs as he solves crimes. Sometimes a case of drugs falls into his lap and he struggles between the desire to consume the whole lot and selling the cache. Milo also uses the magic dust with women in the books. Crumley captures the utter despair, loneliness and ennui of a private investigator. As one Amazon reviewer put it, this series is beyond noir, and enters a new level where the darkness of the void emits no light. His turf is the Pacific Northwest. Think Montana and Washington States, the back roads, the small towns, petty jealous over women and money.

I've blogged about a number of books that fit into this category: blog: http://www.cgmoore.com/blog/index.asp It is surprising the number that have been made into films.

Has anyone else read Crumley's private eye books?

[Johnny Ostentatious]

I read the Last Good Kiss. Decent book, though, it made me wanna drink.

[I. J. Parker]

Don't know the author but have no objection to characters who struggle with their private demons.

[Don Anderson]

Tony Black's new crime novel, PAYING FOR IT, features protagonist Gus Dury, a down and out journalist, who is fueled by the bottle. It's a good read that would easily translate to film.

[Dan Coleman]

I suppose it was only a matter of time before some enterprising fiction writer would take boozing to the next level in his "work." Frankly, I've always felt every protagonist is half the the author's real personality and the other half what he wishes he were.
Even in my own novel, my main character, a P.I., is a wine head. Not alcoholic, mind you, but always with the ice cubes and vino about. He even comments on the peculiarity of it, himself, in the story. Not surprising, considering I've drunk enough red wine in my own life(past tense, the wine, not me), along with the occasional rum and whiskey, to float a 150-foot yacht, or any boat with a deep draft. (I'd just like for it to be a yacht).
Ever notice how when a struggling writer reaches the best seller lists and makes a lot of money he becomes a fat drunk, then incorporates his gluttony into his work? Think Pat Conroy, among others. One of my favorites, but when I started reading Beach Music years ago, right after it came out, I had to put it down early in the story because I felt I'd gain thirty pounds, the damn thing was reading like a menu or restaurant guide.
I think it's the point in life when one loses the sense of struggle, the aim for the goal, his eye blinks at the prize, he stops dreaming, that his struggle begins with himself. And that is so often destructive, as is often the case with writers' real lives.
Without a goal, we're lost, but without the dream, we're deader than hell.

[I. J. Parker]

Ice cubes in wine???? That's adding water! Hardly an example of hard drinking or of loving wine.
But your theory about writers is fascinating. I suppose many do put themselves into the book.

[ChristopherGMoore]

If the hero in a crime novel is an alcoholic he has an addiction, and his condition will color both his thoughts and actions. Whether he/she is a cop or private investigator, the sub-plot inevitably revolves his/her desire for the next bar, drink, or waking up hung-over and trying to piece together evidence with a throbbing headache.

This isn’t about whether alcohol is good or bad. It is judgment about whether alcohol as a character becomes a crutch to the main story.

In other words, the booze in the story – the quest, the ordering, the drinking -- makes the hero predictable, and that will guarantee a double shot of boredom served up to the reader. If the only time the hero is off guard is when he’s misplaced his bottle or his favorite bar is closed, then both hero and reader no longer much care about the crime under investigation. Alcohol becomes the story by default.

[I. J. Parker]

That depends entirely on whether the character nevertheless causes the reader to identify. If the reader rejects him as just another knock-off of the more famous detectives (Morse perhaps), then the book fails.

[Dan Coleman]

Yeah, you're right, of course. If he's already an alcoholic, the addiction will be the dominant force and the character's actions, and the story, will form around it. I just took license with your premise to nail the guys who lose it after the fact of success.

[Dan Coleman]

Believe me, I.J., the ice cubes never had a chance to melt.

[I. J. Parker]

That's a relief. :)

[Jack Green]

Crumley's a wonderful writer.He's part of that pacific northwest group of writers like Jim Harrison and Thomas Mcguane. All great writers. Try his first novel 'The Last Good Kiss", it has a different P.I.. Also his non-fiction book 'Whores'. As for alcohol and writers it seems to go with the territory. Joyce, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Lowery, all drunks. As George Jean Nathan said; "I drink to make other people more interesting".

[I. J. Parker]

I prefer Dr. Johnson's explanation that people drink to forget the pain of living.