In the noir genre it may seem obvious that characters are alienated, and that such characters are numerous, being as it is a genre of victims. However, I think the characters in the work of both Goodis and Himes are operating in a different environment and in a different way. It may be more true to say that the typical characters in a noir novel or film are isolated rather than alienated. For instance, Sam Spade, the archetypal detective figure created by Dashiell Hammett, starts off as part of a duo. However, his partner is killed early on in The Maltese Falcon, and Spade's reaction is, ''And then I didn't like Miles''. Whether he is being truthful or not, Miles Archer's name is quickly removed from the office door. It is obvious that the detective figure in the noir genre is better suited to working alone. I think Goodis and Himes are exploring ways that protagonists are alone in the texts, but rather than being in tune with their environment as Spade so obviously is in Los Angeles, characters such as Eddie and Jackson are actually alienated from their society and environment. Alienation is different from mere isolation as it marks out these characters as profoundly different from those around them, creating a sense of the 'other'.
Two important texts to illustrate this are Shoot The Piano Player (1956) and A Rage in Harlem (1957). These texts work very differently however, and the alienating effects take on different meanings. Goodis' text focuses more on the alienation of the individual, in this case Eddie. This character's alienation stems from his decline from high social status as a concert pianist, to a lowly paid piano player in a seedy bar. It is this tragic downfall with which Goodis occupies himself, and this may be a way of articulating his own despair. After the relative success of his first novel Dark Passage (1946) he began a career as scriptwriter at Warner Brothers studios. However this only lasted three years, and he later retreated to writing paperback novels, what could be termed 'a voluntary and secretive oblivion.'
The sense of doomed oblivion is unshakeable in these texts, and Eddie's course only ever seems to be downwards: if they survive the first blow and find a refuge where their wounds can heal, a second blow is sure to be waiting. Himes' novel also has a protagonist who is continually hit with setbacks. However, by writing about Harlem Himes is also writing about the alienation of an entire race. Harlem serves as a microcosm for the black experience, of racism and the absurdity and alienation that comes with it. It is not spurious to develop this reading of what could be viewed as a simple, yet incredibly violent, detective novel. Indeed, the intrinsic violence of the text seems to be a direct result of the oppression under which the black community is living. Himes was an author with a background in protest writing, so it is only natural that his detective fiction should contain both covert and overt expressions of black protest.
Both novels' protagonists, Eddie and Jackson, are characters for whom we can feel empathy. They both appear to be victims of circumstance, and it is this sheen of innocence that allows a reader to identify with them and so to inhabit the harsh worlds the texts open up. Again, 'innocence' is used in different ways by the authors. Eddie really does seem to attract bad luck, whereas Jackson is obviously naive. Eddie is alienated from his environment because his talent should allow him access to other areas of society. Jackson is alienated from his environment because he does not seem capable of existing in the hustle of Harlem.
It is the sense of alienation felt by the authors and present in the texts that seems to link well to existentialism. This branch of philosophy that tackled the very nature of existence was contemporary to these authors, and the sense of rejection felt by the authors (Goodis from Hollywood, Himes from America), seems to express itself as nihilism in the texts. What is imparted by the texts is the sense that often life is futile. Goodis himself seems to be an example, writing as he did basically the same stories of very similar characters throughout his career. Shoot... itself moves in cycles, managing to cut down the chance of progression, and it is this futility and absurdity about life that both authors convey so well. Indeed, both authors were embraced by other cultures after being rejected by their own. Himes wrote productively in France and noteworthy European directors filmed Goodis' novels. It is profitable to examine European existentialist authors to see the links to both Goodis and Himes; they seem to be exploring what Camus termed 'the benign indifference of the world.' Camus' protagonist is ready to embrace death, and he realises that 'nothing mattered' in this 'absurd life'. The absurdity and futility of existence is questioned by both noir texts.
The opening chapter of Goodis' novel manages to set up several of the main themes of the text, sometimes within a single sentence. It opens with a description of the environment, 'There were no street lamps, no lights at all.' Already the text locates itself in a dark and seedy world. What will be examined is not the mainstream, but life on the periphery. The environment is not necessarily the underworld, despite the foreboding atmosphere, but this does seem to be an area where the boundary between lawfulness and lawlessness could be crossed quite easily. The first figure we come across is 'the fallen man in the street'. The man is on the ground because he has ran into a telephone pole, but the description also works metaphorically to show that this individual is in a lowly position in society. It is also said that, 'He'd been running blindly' and that is how he had come to be injured. This image of a running man evokes ideas of persecution and pursuit, so the text will focus on those who find themselves without power and caught in a position of illegality. Goodis seems to be working within the noir convention by opening with this terrifying image of a fugitive from some nameless dread. The novel is instantly plunged into a reckless journey through a dark and inhospitable environment.
Goodis is interested in describing characters and environments that are reaching their nadir. The crumpled figure of the, so far, unnamed man is a literal image of someone battered and bruised by the world he inhabits. The bar where we come across the protagonist, Eddie, is another such place that is outdated and rundown. This is in contrast to the pursuing force which is revealed to be, 'a very fast Buick with two professionals in it'. The dynamicism and ability here is in stark contrast to the world now being shown to us, a world 'thirty years behind the times'. This is the world of the tragic figure Eddie, and by wider implication all life's other losers, who have simply been left behind by modern, powerful forces
The narratorial voice directly addresses the reader, and imparts the thoughts of the unnamed man as he addresses Eddie. The reader is being drawn into the world as Eddie is, 'It's a crying shame you got to bring him in, but that's the way it is, you got no choice'. This is a way of making the reader feel complicit in the actions of the text, and puts them in the same limited position as that of the characters. The pursued figure is that of Turley, Eddie's brother, who needs to bring him in on something and who also brings news of Eddie's other family. It seems that Eddie has so far managed to become removed from all these connections, and it is in this condition that he becomes alienated. All the existentialists stressed the fact of alienation...Though a creature of this world, he [Man] nevertheless remains foreign in it.
Eddie is doubly removed; he no longer belongs with his family, and really he does not belong playing piano in the Hut. Characters like this populate Goodis' world and what a reader is shown is rather a nihilistic view of characters that, despite their connections, remain alone. There are Eddie and Turley, who have become separated, and also Harriet and Plyne who work in the bar who, while being common law husband and wife, are becoming estranged. This is because Plyne yearns to be with the waitress Lena, who in turn wants nothing to do with the male sex. Despite all these people existing in close proximity, they all are 'foreign' to each other. This world seems to be a reified one, where people become mere commodities, and this is how Turley views Eddie, only re-establishing their connection when a favour is required. The alienation and disinterest is described as like people holding conversations with 'invisible listeners'. This shows the difficulty of making a connection.
The first sign that connections can be made is in the third chapter where Lena and Eddie strike up a conversation. This seems incredibly unlikely, as we know that Lena prefers to be alone, and so it is seen as an act of compassion. Lena is trying to protect Eddie from the two men who were chasing his brother, whom he distracted in the bar so that Turley could make his escape. Lena waits for Eddie 'so that he shouldn't be on the street alone'. This can be viewed as a positive element because it shows that even in this tough world people can care. However, it also contains ominous undertones because Lena is getting drawn into a bad situation herself. Goodis manages to show the danger that runs just below the surface for these mainly impotent characters, and alienation perhaps seems to offer some sense of safety.
Just about every character in the novel is marginalized in some way. People are to be found past their own personal best and struggling with their position in life. The characters live in a world that, like the bar, has 'no shine at all'. Goodis refuses to allow a veneer to mask the pain and suffering of these people. This is why when moments of connection are made they are so unexpected. They can also be seen as moments of danger. For example, Lena starts to look out for Eddie's safety. This also means that she is drawn into a web of criminality. This also works in the other direction, meaning that Eddie begins to care about someone again and so is in danger of having her snatched away. Also, Eddie's neighbour Clarice is shown to be a sympathetic character. Eddie had been kind to her about her appearance, ' 'And the windup was I let you have it for free...I guess all Friday nights ain't the same.''
This is a breakthrough moment when for once human interaction wasn't about commodities but about real emotions. Of course, there is also the trace that their relationship has never been the same since, suggesting that these moments are very rare. Again it suggests that once the possibility of something more opens up, so does the chance of it being snatched away. Eddie used to survive on just the minimum he needed; 'He was unmarried, he didn't own a car, and he had no debts or obligations.' This is a very limited mode of existence, but it is also a way of minimising the possibility of hurt. The characters in the novel are estranged from each other and from God. The existential problem they are facing is how to survive in such an environment: 'The individual, unable to fall back on any accepted standard of values, has to make his own solitary decision.' The characters seem to be trapped in a reductive cycle, where merely to continue living means existing in a reduced state of being, quite often alone.
The environment of the text is one of mutual distrust, suggestive of paranoia, and yet it can sometimes be helpful. This again links to existentialism and the idea that Man is always a foreigner to both his environment and his neighbours, and that there will always be a sense of suspicion about the 'other'; 'In this neighbourhood...there's a very stiff line of defense against...all kinds of tracers.' The 'other' is always seen as a negative force of oppression, curtailing already limited freedoms. Due to people being alone and wary, paradoxically a sense of community forms, albeit an unconscious one that patrols its boundaries keeping strangers out. A similar sense of communal links can also be seen, in an overtly racial sense, in Himes' A Rage in Harlem. In that text Harlem is the black ghetto, that drags Jackson back when there is a chance of escape into the white world of Manhattan: 'He was down in the white world with no place to go.' Jackson's environment is strictly defined, and he 'is more afraid of the white city than of being captured in Harlem'. The ghetto also works, however, to keep the majority of white people out of Harlem, the only ones visible being the police who keep the peace and the homosexuals who go there to solicit sex.
Eddie's world is an incredibly disturbing one for a reader who takes their freedoms for granted. The world is one of reification and commercialism that in turn seems to produce alienation. Family and community links only become valuable when they can be of assistance when trouble looms, ' 'A brother, a mother, a father,' Eddie said with another shrug, 'they ain't important at all. Like merchandise you sell across a counter.' Although Eddie is using a certain ironic tone here, talking as he is to Feather and Morris, the 'professionals', who've managed to track him down, for other more cynical characters this is exactly the right type of thinking. Certainly, Turley only found Eddie when he needed somewhere to hide from his pursuers. It is this sense of self-preservation (deriving from ideas about the urban jungle and social Darwinism that will be picked up by the text later) that breeds isolation and the severing of ties. Family connections actually become a liability. The idea of freedom for Eddie is incredibly abstract, and it is by no means certain that he has a clear idea of what it would mean. Existentialism is not sure if freedom can be attained either: 'The philosophies of existence are philosophies of liberation rather than philosophies of freedom. They attempt to liberate man from the domination of external forces, of society, of the state, and of dictatorial power. '
It is questionable whether Eddie can indeed be liberated from the forces acting upon him. Those pursuers of his brother and now him are 'professionals' whereas he is shown to be an innocent, dragged in unwillingly. Eddie's internal forces seem no match for those operating upon him from outside, and so the question of his freedom seems to be if he can ever be free of his destiny. The novel allows the reader a privileged glimpse into Eddie's personal history, and the two chapters that deal with his tragic fall confirm O'Brien's introduction, that if you survive a first blow, there will be another one after it. The two chapters begin to show the absurdity of life because it is a continual, cyclical struggle that ultimately impedes progress. His history is told through third person narration, and this allows a sense of distance that reinforces the isolation Eddie feels. Even through memory Eddie can 'feel the hurt already'. Despite this being the past, the pain has lasted and still affects him. Life is a sort of daily trial. Eddie's sense of alienation is not just from society, but also from himself and his past. The change from Edward Lynne to Eddie had been extensive:
The way a person talks has little or nothing to do with the schooling. You ought to know. Just listen to the way you talk.
Eddie has in effect become a different person. The past had to be left behind totally for Eddie to continue living. This again equates to the foreignness we see in existentialist thought, 'There is a limit to our understanding of other persons. In the inner life they all remain, to a certain degree, foreign to us.' Alienation is magnified because the inner life seems inexpressible. As a reader, our knowledge of Eddie is much greater than any of the characters, who have gaps where knowledge should be. This makes it all the more remarkable when tentative connections between characters occur, such as when Lena refers to him as, ' 'Edward Webster Lynn, the concert pianist, performing at Carnegie Hall.'' Lena is a character that can offer Eddie the promise of a better life, one with valuable human relationships. A reader knows that this again opens up the possibility of failure. The blows that knocked Eddie down were the war, which put his career on hold, and then his benefactor Woodling using his wife for sex. As Teresa herself put it, ' 'When it is dark you cannot stop the darkness''.
Life is an unstoppable force, and the sense of powerlessness against external forces is all pervading. Teresa tries to tell Eddie that she kept something back from Woodling, that it was ' 'only Teresa's body'' that went with him. In effect, Teresa had to alienate herself in order to go through with the act. Eddie's and Teresa's responses are those of people with limited social and financial power. The oppressing classes can use them, and their only survival strategy is to attempt to become numb. There is the idea that many patrons of the Hut would have similar stories to tell. There is again the link to existentialism as being an attempt at 'liberation' from the 'domination of external forces'. This is seen as an idealistic view as Teresa's liberation is suicide (the only purely individual gesture left open to her), and Eddie's is a marginalized existence of being so self-unaware that exterior forces rarely intrude. Existentialism may claim to hold the promise of liberation, but it offers no easy strategies for it.
Eddie had descended into a 'wild man' and deliberately lost all his money. He got into horrifically violent fights and discovered he liked it. These seem to be literal examples of the type of violence perpetrated against him. Eddie was merely acting out the metaphorical violence of a competitive society. Eddie was aware that he had to give thanks to all those back room brawls because if he had ever come across Woodling, it 'would mean a killing'. There is a sense of injustice here because social forces have determined what his reaction can be.
The violence can only be against those in a similar position to him; he is not allowed retribution against those who committed the crimes against him. Eddie had to leave this world behind, 'The wild man was gone, annihilated'. The alienation was self-imposed. He cut all ties to his own violence and the criminality of his family so he could have a relatively 'safe' existence.
The final chapters of the novel deal with Eddie's flight to New Jersey after the accidental killing of Plyne, when the 'wild man' threatened to re-emerge. Lena goes with him, and this is a problem. Once this connection between them is made, hope for the future emerges within Eddie. Even when talking to his brother he thinks of the waitress, 'He stood there watching her as she departed. But he couldn't bear it and he ran after her.'
Eddie knows that isolation is safety, but he cannot give up his hope for a more fulfilling existence. However, the professionals arrive while Lena is still at the hideout. There is a mass of confusion as Clifton and Turley shoot at the men in the Buick. What happens is never clearly resolved, except for the stark fact that Lena is dead. Eddie has managed to escape, but Lena another 'innocent' character has not. Progress for Eddie has been minimal, and indeed the last image is of him at the piano; 'He saw his fingers caressing the keyboard.' Eddie is once again an alienated figure.
Alienation ends in absurdity, because under its domination the acts of individuals and groups become uncoordinated. Eddie seems to be once again losing control, and those external forces seem to have him under their grasp, ' I think we see a certain pattern taking shape...somehow you're pulled around on that circle, it takes you back to where you started.' Eddie's story ends in absurdity because once again he is hit with another blow, and any chance of progression is undermined.
The environment contained in Himes' A Rage in Harlem is one riddled with confidence tricksters and fraudulence. In this environment those who are trusting or naive will be deceived and left even weaker. There are again images of the urban jungle, and the protagonist Jackson is certainly an innocent victim. Jackson does not seem adapted to the hustle of living in Harlem, so again the text is dealing with alienation.
The opening scene of the novel is of Jackson trying to raise hundred dollar bills into thousands. Of course, this is a con being perpetrated against him by a gang of criminals and even involving his own woman, Imabelle. However, the scene also reveals the sheer desperation of Jackson, and by implication the wider black community, to try and improve their conditions. The scene appears funny, but, 'It was too serious for Jackson to be laughing'. The image is also one of 'black-on-black' crime. Jackson is a desperate man, but so too are the criminal gang, and as such are willing to damage the black community for their own gain. Himes had previously had a background in protest writing, and by revealing the deceptions going on in Harlem he also seems to be highlighting the alienation, isolation and 'ghettoisation' of black people throughout America. Harlem is acting as a microcosm for the social situation of the times, and even in such a small area there is a wealth of problems.
Jackson's naivety is set up within this first chapter, and Himes is also keen to undermine religious authority; 'Whenever he was in trouble he crossed himself just to be on the safe side.' There is an obvious irony here as God is not going to intervene in his fate. The only people who will have an effect upon Jackson are those who will use or abuse him, trick him out of money or arrest him. This damning of organised religion is a theme continued elsewhere in the novel. As Jackson becomes more desperate to regain his lost woman and money that he is tricked out of, he searches for his brother Goldy. Jackson has to wait until 'Goldy appeared on the street'. Obviously Goldy is more at home in Harlem, because Jackson would never loiter on the street. When he appears Goldy is dressed in the vestments of a Sister of Mercy and is selling tickets that will allow the recently deceased into heaven; ' 'These'll take Uncle Pone to the bosom of the Lawd,' she promised.' Himes is obviously trying to undermine the effectiveness of religion at easing social problems. Religion becomes another tool for individuals to gain slightly over one another. Not one honest religious character appears in the novel; the name of the Reverend, 'Gaines', aptly describes how he views his parishioners. Existentialism is supposed to be a 'philosophy of crisis', and what seems to be prevalent in Harlem is the crisis of religious hypocrisy, but maybe this is to be expected because of the modern 'estrangement from God'. Religion is shown to have limits, and by the end of the novel even Gaines must admit that, ' 'The Lord won't get you out of that kind of mess.''
Not only is there black-on-black violence in the Harlem environment. Other divisions are shown to exist in the community. The duplicitous Imabelle is described as, 'a cushion-lipped, hot-bodied, banana-skin chick...a teaser.' Imabelle is characterised as dangerous mainly because of her light-skinned complexion. Not only are black people preyed on by the white authorities, but also by themselves. There is a sense of alienation not just from the American white majority, but also amongst their own community. Racism is ingrained so deeply, that those with a lighter complexion become 'other' and are prejudiced against. 'Racism completely controls their lives' and as such the absurd nature of it is revealed; those prejudiced against become perpetrators themselves.
Himes' view of women is slightly different from Goodis'. Goodis seemed to believe in two types of woman; Lena being relatively strong and independent, and Harriett being deceptively vulnerable. However, Himes' sees them as one-dimensional. If they are keeping anything hidden, it is because they are carrying out some kind of 'con'. It would be unfair to simply decry Himes as a misogynist because his novels share with much 'hard-boiled' fiction their 'uneven handling of gender'. What this suspicion of women does reveal is the wider suspicion symptomatic of the black community because the majority of dealings they've had both internally and externally have been traitorous. This is what Jackson in his naivety fails to recognise. After he is conned by the gang he says to his brother, ' 'A man has got to believe his own eyes, ain't he?'' The existentialist 'crisis' is one not just of religious belief, but also whether you can trust your own perception. Harlem is an environment corrupted by distrust, which alienates members of its community even from themselves.
Unlike the Goodis novel, Rage... has detective figures, the legendary Coffin Ed Johnson and Gravedigger Jones: 'They had to be tough to work in Harlem. Coloured folks didn't respect coloured cops.' Himes makes his detective figures more complex because they are black people policing black people. There is an element of double consciousness here, and an awareness of the irony and absurdity of their position. Gravedigger and Coffin Ed are in a double-bind position, not fully respected and trusted by their white superiors, only given grudging respect by blacks because they manage to keep some kind of peace. Himes is confronting the 'contradictory role of his two detectives - black cops working for the state'. The irony is that these two are entrusted to enforce an illegitimate white authority that is often thinly veiled racism. Often what they are there to do is not protect the black citizens of Harlem, but 'to protect white people who are often the prey of black con artists.'
The violence used by Himes seems to be an attempt to express the 'rage' that exists in Harlem and other black communities because of the stranglehold that white authority has. One of the most disturbing scenes occurs at the hideout where the criminal gang are conducting the 'Lost Gold Mine' scam. Again, Himes undermines religion and its practitioners because on one of the abandoned warehouse walls is painted the word 'Heaven'; a more incongruous setting it is difficult to imagine. After Coffin Ed and Gravedigger's attempt at apprehension goes wrong, the room is plunged into darkness and Coffin Ed is temporarily blinded by acid. In this state of literal blindness (again, sight is not to be trusted) the indiscriminate shooting by the detectives is symbolic of the impotent rage they feel daily in their jobs:
He closed his eyes against the burning pain, but he was so consumed with rage that he began clubbing right and left in the dark with the butt of his pistol. He didn't know it was Gravedigger who backed into him.
The image is terrifying because the violence is random, and is likely to be perpetrated on his own partner, rather than the violent criminals. It is made worse because the black detectives are fiercely loyal to each other (unlike a lot of other noir detectives), and the scene seems to represent the continually ineffectual struggle against crime.
The motif is picked up again in the final completed detective novel that Himes wrote, Blind Man With a Pistol (1969). This text is written after numerous racial riots in urban America, and it overtly deals with the oppression that many black people felt. The final terrifying image is of a blind black man, almost unaware of his actions, randomly firing a gun:
A bleeding, running, black man spelled trouble, and they had the whole white race to protect...Then the blind man stumbled up the stairs, tapping the railing with the pistol...the blind man upped with his pistol and shot...But the bullet had hit the white cop in the middle of the forehead.
In Rage... the violence had ricocheted back onto the black figures, and so was symbolic of frustration. Here it blindly attacks white authority, and so opens up the possibility of using violence for equality (the novel was written after Himes met Malcolm X). The violence is unorganised, and so it is likely to damage blacks as well as whites, but it is an opening; 'Himes is the first black detective novelist to use violence by blacks against whites as both an aesthetic tool and a social statement.' The image surely is absurd, and it 'don't make any sense' but it could possibly lead to progress, rather than remaining trapped in a cycle of futility like Goodis. However, that abiding image of the two black detectives using their formidable pistols to shoot rats suggests there is a long way to go: 'Himes suggests the increasing horror of racial control verging on extermination.'
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Bibliography
Camus, Albert, The Outsider, (London: Penguin, 2000).
Hammett, Dashiell, The Maltese Falcon, (London: Orion, 2002).
Haut, Woody, Neon Noir: Contemporary American Crime Fiction, (London: Serpent's Tail, 1999).
Heinemann, F. H., Existentialism and the Modern Predicament, 3rd edition, (London: Adam and Charles Black, 1958).
Himes, Chester, A Rage in Harlem, (Edinburgh: Payback Press, 1996).
Himes, Chester, Blind Man With a Pistol, (New York: Vintage, 1989).
Goodis, David, Shoot The Piano Player, (London: Prion Books, 1999).
Soitos, Stephen, The Blues Detective, (Massachusetts: University of Massachusetts, 1996).
Copyright© 2003 Reuben Welsh
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REUBEN WELSH
is 22 and is currently studying for an M.A. in Contemporary Literary Studies at
Lancaster University.
Contact Reuben
The above essay is reprinted courtesy of the Crimeculture website.