The fact that the novel was originally called Passion Killer and written under the pseudonym Don Elliott (which Silverberg used for his prolific output of sleaze fiction) and that it was published by Corinth Books tends to support this assumption. It was clearly aimed at the sleaze fiction market.
A rich middle-aged man, Howard Gorman, wants his wife killed. He will then marry his much younger and very hot mistress Marie. He hires hitman Lee Floyd to do the job. It should be a straightforward hit but things get complicated. For one thing Marie is having an affair with her friend Dolores. Lee Floyd picks up a girl. There’s a private eye mixed up somewhere in here as well.
You might think there’d be potential here for double-crosses and you’d be right. You might also think there’d be potential here for various emotional and sexual betrayals and again you’d be correct.
Marie certainly doesn’t love Howard but he’s rich and the idea of marrying money appeals to her. Marie likes money. Of course she enjoys her bedroom romps with her gal pal Dolores too much to have any intention of remaining faithful to Howard.
Most of the novel consists of endless sexual encounters. You have to admire Marie’s stamina. Her sexual appetites are prodigious. Lee Floyd has plenty of energy in the bedroom as well. And Dolores is no slouch either. The sex scenes are lengthy but not at all graphic (in fact they’re a bit tame by 1965 standards).
This doesn’t leave much space for the noir plot. There is definitely a noir plot here. It’s not wildly original and it’s not overly complex but it is there.
The major weakness is Lee Floyd. Silverberg does a fine job letting us know what kind of man he is and what makes him tick. Then suddenly halfway though the novel Floyd starts doing things that are totally and wildly out of character, for no good reason. It doesn’t ring true. Given that Lee Floyd is more or less the noir protagonist here that’s a real problem.
You do have to keep in mind that Silverberg churned these sleaze novels out astonishingly quickly. If you wanted to make money from this sort of writing you needed to be prolific. Silverberg was extremely prolific and he made a very comfortable living from his sleaze novels. Given that this novel would have been written very very quickly it’s no surprise that it feels a bit like a first draft. Essentially it is a first draft. You sit down at your typewriter and write and once you’re finished you put the manuscript in an envelope and post it off. You then wait for your cheque to arrive. You don’t bother revising. You won’t get paid any extra if you spend time polishing and revising.
There is for example the subplot involving the private detective. It just doesn’t go anywhere or serve any purpose but I guess Silverberg figured that there should be a private detective in the story.
There are so many sex scenes that the crime plot never has the chance to develop much momentum or sense of urgency.
On the plus side the novel has a fairly decent femme fatale. It also has a scuzzy cynical vibe. All of the characters are worthless human beings. They’re right at home in the noir universe. There’s the right atmosphere of desperation and sordidness. There is just enough here to indicate that, had he really put his mind to it, Silverberg could have written a fine noir novel.
Sadly Killer just isn’t all that good. As noir it doesn’t quite make it although it has a few good moments. As sleaze fiction it’s OK but Silverberg wrote much better sleaze novels, such as his excellent 1959 Gang Girl. Killer is maybe worth a look but don’t set your expectations too high.
No comments:
Post a Comment