It took a little longer than expected, but the comments are back. While I probably won’t post anything more tonight, things will be back to normal here by this time tomorrow, if not before.

I don’t know why things happen the way they do, but my daughter Sarah and her husband Mark left for a two week vacation in England on Thursday, and it’s Mark who does the heavy lifting around here: backing up data and doing the repairs. Sure enough, as soon as he got out of the country, bingo! That’s when the blog went down.

It took a few emails back and forth with GoDaddy to solve the problem, but solved it is, and we’re back. Thanks, Mark!

PS. The last comment that was processed correctly was a suggestion made by Paul Herman that The Shadow should be counted as one of the Triple Threat Franchise Players. He is correct:

http://mysteryfile.com/blog/?p=19550#comments

If you tried to leave a comment anytime after Paul’s, it disappeared into Voodooland. If you’d like to try again, please do.

The comments have disappeared from all my posts. It should be temporary but the repairs are beyond my pay level. Let’s put everything on hold until I can get it fixed. Don’t reply to this or any other post until I send an all clear.

   Even though only a portion of the posts on this blog are about Vintage Motion Pictures, I’m delighted to announce that I’ve been accepted as a member of VAMP.

   Check out their website. Lots of links there to other movie-oriented blogs, all worth visiting!

   While recently engaged in one of my favorite activities, mainly that of watching movies on DVD, I suddenly realized that it was the birthday of one of my former hangouts, the Drive-In Theater.

   On June 6, 1933, the Drive-In was born in Camden, New Jersey. It immediately became the place to go and by the height of its popularity in the 1950′s and 1960′s there were over 4,000 theaters across the country.

   In the 1970′s, my wife and I went to the Drive-Ins just about every weekend. Even in the winter, the places were so popular that there were theaters that provided in-car heaters. Of course you would have to turn your ignition and also use the car heater.

   There were several in the Trenton NJ area and we used to visit them all: US 1 North Drive-In, Roosevelt Drive-In, Lawrence, Route 206, The Dix, Ewing Drive-In. Too many to remember.

   They are all gone now, and maybe for me personally it’s a good thing. I probably would not have survived to 2012 if I had continued to go to them. I believe most of them died in the 1980′s and if they had lasted much longer, I would have died with them.

   Why? I got into the habit of following my “Drive-In Routine,” which consisted of cigarettes, a six pack of beer, and Arby roast beef sandwiches and french fries.

   We would eagerly arrive while it was still daylight in order to get a place in the front or second row. I would hold off the orgy of eating and drinking until the opening credits and then it was not a pretty sight as I devoured Arby’s and swilled cans of beer, tossing them outside the car window as I finished each one. One beer equaled one cigarette.

   My wife hated my smoking because the smell of old cigarette smoke would sink into her hair and clothes. But, being the typically guy, and since she was a non-book collector, what did I care? Even at the Drive-In, I still applied my life long philosophy that there are two types of people, collectors and non-collectors.

   There was another annoying thing about many Drive-Ins: the bugs and insects. In the hot summer nights we would of course have the windows down and in they would come to feast on me. They mainly ignored my wife because she was only half my size, and the Arby’s and beers must have made my blood taste good.

   To try and drive the bugs away, many of the theaters sold a product called PIC. I forget what the initials meant but it was a coil that you lit with a match and placed on your dashboard. It seemed to work on clearing the bugs out of the car but after awhile you also wanted to leave the car.

   Of course, after a few beers I no longer cared about them and I had no trouble concentrating on the movie.

   My wife and I followed the same routine. Me with Arby’s, french fries, beer, cigarettes, while watching all 3 movies, and she gasping, coughing, scratching, and complaining while she watched the first feature. She never made it past the first movie because she always fell asleep during the first intermission.

   It seemed I always picked the movie, and they just about all were the triple feature horror movies. This was before the VCR and the video revolution, and you could not find many of the movies on TV.

   Some were foreign imports showing more than the usual violence and skin but my favorites were the Hammer horror films. Nothing like a Hammer horror movie combined with Arby’s and beer. Heaven!

   Actually my first experiences with a Drive-In came late in life but once exposed, I was hooked until they all died. I’ve always had my nose stuck in a book during my childhood and into my twenties. It was not until I was drafted into Army that I started regularly attending. While at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, a bunch of soldiers would pile into a car with a couple cases of beer and go to the Drive-Ins off base.

   The first time I went I was not used to drinking and instead of drinking beer I drank a bottle of blackberry brandy. The last thing I remembered was the opening credits of the first feature. The next thing I recalled was the closing credits of the third and last movie. I had passed out and missed all three films. I made sure that never happened again.

   There used to be hundreds of the theaters in New Jersey and now there is one in Vineland NJ that I’m aware of. Too far away. What killed the Drive-In? The VCR and the video revolution killed them.

   No longer did movie lovers and horror buffs have to go to the Drive-In to see films of the bizarre and unusual. Instead they could stay home and watch the movies on their VCR’s in the comfort of family surroundings.

   No more fighting insects, smelly PICS, or terrible drive-in rest rooms. I never tried drive-in fast food but it looked deadly.

   So Happy Birthday to the Drive-In. I know there are a few scattered survivors in other parts of the country. But in New Jersey, the birthplace of the Drive-In, they are sadly missed. Rest In Peace.

   I love to read essays on literature, but above all I love to read essays on crime fiction. During the last 120 years so many essays on crime fiction were written that I have probably read less than five per cent.

   Nevertheless I have put together a list of my favourites. When I talk with booksellers in mystery bookstores in Germany they complain that any kind of reference work does not sell well. The readers of crime fiction just want the pure stuff, the thrill of the stories. They are not interested in information about crime fiction.

   This seems to be different with the readers of the Mystery*File blog. There should be some interest in my choice of the twelve best essays on crime fiction. The subjects vary, of course, as crime fiction is a varied genre. For me the ideal literary essay combines the following general features: some useful information, intelligent thought, a good prose style, a little bit of experimentation, and the author’s individual voice must be heard.

   Most of these essays may be most easily found in two sources. (*) Reprinted in: Howard Haycraft, editor: The Art of the Mystery Story, and (**) Reprinted in: Ed Gorman, Lee Server, Martin H. Greenberg, editors: The Big Book of Noir.

   Here comes the list:

1. “The Simple Art of Murder,” by Raymond Chandler. (*)     For me this is one of Chandler’s best texts (texts including novels and short stories), very often quoted.

2. “A Defence of Detective Stories,” by G. K. Chesterton. (*)     Chesterton has again and again surprising and brilliant ideas and expresses them in excellent prose.

3. Foreword in Patricia Highsmith’s story collection Eleven, by Graham Greene.     A very good understanding of Highsmith’s special art of crime writing, precise language, masterful.

4. “The Locked-Room Lecture,” by John Dickson Carr. (*) The famous chapter from the novel The Three Coffins by the undisputed master of the locked-room mystery.

5. “Warning! Warning! Hitchhikers May Be Escaped Lunatics!,” by Stephen King. (**)     Very direct and frank, rather personal, full insight into Jim Thompson’s work from the viewpoint of a famous storyteller.

6. “Chester Himes: America’s Black Heartland“, by James Sallis. (**)     A fine, informative essay by a literary expert and great crime writer.

7. “The Guilty Vicarage: Notes on the Detective Story, by an Addict,” by W. H. Auden.     A very particular view on the subject by the famous poet, in: The Dyer’s Hand and Other Essays.

8. “Forgotten Writers: Gil Brewer,” by Bill Pronzini. (**)     An impressive portrait of a once very successful writer of paperback originals whose life ended tragically.

9. “The Writer As Detective Hero,” by Ross Macdonald. A typical Ross Macdonald text, with a lot of psychology and personal reflection, in: On Crime Writing.

10. Introduction to The Hard-Boiled Detective: Stories from Black Mask Magazine 1920-1951, by Herbert Ruhm.     A highly informative essay on Black Mask Stories.

11. “Gaudy Night,” by Dorothy L. Sayers. (*) A self-critical and ironic look on the writing process of a detective novelist of the Golden Age.

12. “The Novels of Vin Packer,” by Jon L. Breen, in: Murder Off the Rack: Critical Studies of Ten Paperback Masters, edited by Breen and M. H. Greenberg.     A convincing argument for the appreciation of the neglected work of an outstanding writer.

   Looking finally at my list I see I have missed many names, for example the names of Anthony Boucher, Patricia Highsmith, Julian Symons, Francis M. Nevins, Marcia Muller, H. R. F. Keating, Fredric Jameson, Ed Gorman, Sara Paretsky, Bill Crider, Mike Ripley and so on. Probably a list with 50 titles would be more adequate.

   If we were to believe the language of publishers, booksellers and collectors, there is a multitude of so-called “crime classics.” And yet not every crime novel that has exercised a certain appeal on a particular number of readers, even decades after its publication, deserves the attribute “crime classic.”

   At a time of “retromania” (Simon Reynolds), at a time in which computers, the internet and e-books can and perhaps will tend to compile, store and make accessible all texts, longevity in itself is not sufficient as a criterion.

   The term “crime classic” denotes a distinction, a seal of quality, which raises the novel concerned above the average, especially when books are produced and distributed more or less industrially in masses. So which crime novels have the prerogative to maintain a presence and to claim the attention of generations of readers?

   If we try to determine the particular characteristics of a crime classic, we might concentrate on the intrinsic qualities of the narrative text, such as an ingenious plot and lustrous prose, or on extrinsic features such as its continuous presence in the book market over decades and special regard among literary critics.

   At any rate, “classic” in the sense of a crime novel does not mean that it corresponds to the literary-aesthetic ideals of a so-called classic era, that it distinguishes itself from romantic or realistic or other epochal styles, or that it demonstrates a particularly exquisite language.

   Classic is also not identical to nostalgic. That said, any nostalgic reading need, satisfied by a certain crime novel that revives good old or bad old times, does not necessarily mean that the novel is not a crime classic.

   It seems obvious to assume a complex interplay of the intrinsic and extrinsic qualities of a crime novel, which ultimately lead a particular crime novel to stand the test of time, to still appear “fresh” even after decades have passed, and to enrich its reader.

   I now intend to examine more closely how such interplay works, creating tradition and literary history.

   While Edmund Wilson’s infamous polemic “Who Cares Who Killed Roger Ackroyd?” might be arrogant, it does provide an opportunity to undertake certain differentiations. A distinction must first be made between “crime classics” and the classics of world literature.

   “Crime classics” are not classics that also happen to be crime novels. “Crime classics” require other criteria of attribution. If we were to apply Wilson’s standards of modern classic literature (James Joyce, Marcel Proust, Thomas Mann), there would be at most a dozen crime novels that would meet these standards and deserve the title of “classic.”

   Using Gertrude Stein’s criteria for “masterpieces” would produce even fewer. In her view, masterpieces do not describe the things of reality, recognised by the reader to his enjoyment; rather, they create and embody a being in themselves, something fundamentally new. This is the case in very few crime novels, if at all in any.

   Furthermore it should be noted that a “crime classic” is not automatically every work by any crime author who has also written, among other things, a few “crime classics.” If, for example, we consider the best, most successful crime novels by Agatha Christie to be “crime classics”, this does not mean that her weaker publications should also achieve this status.

   Crime authors are rarely so perfect, from a literary point of view, to suggest that those who have written a number of “crime classics” will never dip below this level, and always write masterfully. Such an assumption is disproved by many weak crime novels by good authors.

   Ultimately, the criteria for all subgenres of crime novels are not the same. Different standards apply to the traditional whodunit, which make the novel a “crime classic,” than to a gangster story or a psycho thriller.

   In a whodunit much more emphasis is placed on a perfectly structured, thoroughly logical and at the same time original plot, on the clever distribution of “clues” throughout the text and a surprising and plausible solution to the riddle than is the case in a gangster story.

   What is required of all “crime classics,” however, is that they demonstrate a certain superior level of prose, and that their specific dramatic suspense works.

   One criterion that is insufficient to qualify a novel as a “crime classic” is some random innovation; e.g., a particular method of murder or a criminal deduction technique, which is presented in a novel for the very first time. In spite of the innovative element a crime novel might still be written using lousy language and a sloppy plot, so that the predicate “crime classic” is not appropriate.

   Equally insufficient is the fact that a crime writer (or his works) was read widely at the time and showered with praise by critics. I question, therefore, whether even a single work by Edgar Wallace deserves to be considered a “crime classic” although he was appreciated by highly competent authors such as Gertrude Stein, Dashiell Hammett and H. R. F. Keating.

   Positive acknowledgement by literary critics is an extrinsic feature. A prerequisite here is continuity over a long period of time, which does not mean that all criticism highlights the same aspects of a crime classic and appraises them positively. Perspective and standards can shift, particularly over the course of decades.

   Not every critic must provide identical reasons for his praise. A further extrinsic characteristic of a crime classic is that it is generally read more than once. Especially in the case of the traditional whodunit a large time span is often left between readings, so that the forgetful reader can try to solve the mystery anew.

   But we should remember Chandler’s criterion that a really good crime novel must also provide reading pleasure even if the last chapter is missing (and even if the experienced reader figures out the end of the story).

   In other words, every crime classic must possess literary qualities and may not profit merely from the uncertainty as to how the story ends. It must touch the reader, so that scenes, lines of dialogue, comparisons or other elements of the novel become indelible in his memory. It may not leave one cold, but instead must challenge the reader to adopt a position for or against the crime novel or some of the statements contained therein.

   More specifically, a crime classic must distinguish itself by means of such a complex power of literary qualities that a single reading, or a reading in a particular historical period, does not exhaust these literary riches, but rather the work provides new aspects for later readings or subsequent generations of readers.

   Upon first perusal in youth, the aspects that play a role and are assessed positively will be different to those in more mature years, or in later life. The manner in which this is caused by a crime novel might well remain a mystery to most readers, upon which critics and literary scholars can continue to work. I only wish to warn against awarding the distinction of crime classic prematurely to all old crime novels that appear, in some way, to be worth reading.

   To conclude, here are some suggestions related to the discussion: Are the following crime novels crime classics or simply cult novels for those in the know?

Dan J. Marlowe: The Name of the Game Is Death (1962), praised by Ed Gorman, Stephen King.

Ted Lewis: Jack’s Return Home (1970), praised by Paul Duncan, Max Décharné.

Simon Troy: Waiting for Oliver (1963), praised by Mary Ann Grochowski, Bill Pronzini.

Richard Hallas: You Play the Black and the Red Comes Up (1938), praised by David Feinberg, E. R. Hagemann.

Vin Packer: Whisper His Sin (1954), praised by Anthony Boucher, Jon L. Breen.

Mildred Davis: The Room Upstairs (1948), praised by Marvin Lachman, Jean-Patrick Manchette.

Norbert Davis: The Mouse in the Mountain (1943), praised by Bill Pronzini, Ludwig Wittgenstein.

James Reasoner: Texas Wind (1980), praised by Ed Gorman, Bill Pronzini.

      Sources:

Italo Calvino: Warum Klassiker lesen?, Munich/Vienna 2003 (English edition: Why Read the Classics, in: The Uses of Literature, 1986)

Raymond Chandler: Raymond Chandler Speaking, edited by Dorothy Gardiner & Kathrine Sorley Walker, London 1962

J. M. Coetzee: Was ist ein Klassiker?, Frankfurt am Main 2006 (English edition: What Is a Classic?: A Lecture, in: Stranger Shores. Literary Essays 1986-1999, New York 2001)

T. S. Eliot: Was ist ein Klassiker?, in: Ausgewählte Essays, Berlin/Frankfurt am Main 1950, 469-511 (English edition: What Is a Classic?, London 1945)

H. R. F. Keating: Crime and Mystery: the 100 Best Books, London 1987

Ezra Pound: ABC des Lesens, Frankfurt am Main 1967 (English edition: ABC of Reading, New York 1934)

Gertrude Stein: Was sind Meisterwerke. Essay, Zürich 1985 (English edition: What Are Masterpieces and Why Are There So Few of Them?, 1940)

Edmund Wilson: Who Cares Who Killed Roger Ackroyd?, in: Howard Haycraft (ed.): The Art of the Mystery Story, New York 1992, 390-397

      Translated by Carolyn Kelly.

Herewith some items of interest, I hope, from here and there on the World Wide Web:

● Coachwhip Publications, a “micropublisher” new to me, has already made enough early detective fiction available to keep me reading (and broke) for some time to come. Included in their mystery offerings are: Futrelle’s The Thinking Machine | A. J. Raffles, Gentleman Thief | Hamilton Cleek | Old Man in the Corner | Uncle Abner Mysteries | Thornley Colton, Blind Detective | Max Carrados | Thorpe Hazell Mysteries | The Legal Exploits of Randolph Mason | Addison Kent Mysteries | Complete Adventures of Romney Pringle | Flaxman Low | Luther Trant, Psychological Detective | Average Jones | and many many more.

● Bill Lengeman has added a monthly podcast to his Traditional Mysteries blog. The first one is a Round Table discussion between several bloggers taking on the subject:
“How Much Sherlock is Too Much?”

● Curt Evans and Patrick Ohl are having a multi-part discussion on the latter’s blog in which they discuss in detail the various characters in And Then There Were None, one of Agatha Christie’s best known novels. The most recent of these posts covers General Macarthur. (When I say in detail, I mean it.)

● As I’ve mentioned before, you can listen to every episode of the CBS Radio Mystery Theater online, a great way to spend part of your own evening, or any time of the day, for that matter. Even better, earlier this week Todd Mason provided links on his blog to a long list of other online archives of “Radio Drama from the 1960s to Now.” (Scroll down.) Some are familiar to me, others not.