Stephen Gould Fisher (1912–1980)

If you love hardboiled crime fiction from the forties and fifties like I do, you will absolutely feast on this Steve Fisher novel. It was originally published in 1941 and immediately made into a hit movie starring Betty Grable and Victor Mature. Later, Fisher updated the novel in 1961, perhaps to appeal to contemporary (at that time) readers. Black Lizard, one of the great modern crime fiction publishing houses, republished it in 1991. No matter which edition you pick up, it is a dark, show more hardboiled platter of goodness that I really enjoyed. At 157 pages, it is typical of crime novels of the forties and fifties in length.

I generally don't like Hollywood industry crime novels. Too often, the authors tend to want to impress the reader with how much they know about Hollywood and how well connected they are. Here, however, the setting works just right. The basic story is about about a screenwriter (Peg), who falls head over heels for a stunning secretary in the studio where he works. He then conspires with a few other producers and agents to turn the incredible Vicki Lynn into the next star even though that meant she would be escorted around Hollywood by a male star since Peg as a writer wasn't going to dazzle the public. It tops off with a Hollywood murder and a cynical police detective who is going to find a way to make Peg pay for what he did ( if he did it).

But, to be honest, it wasn't the plot that fascinated me about this book, although when you get to the part about the girl who was white as marble, with hair splayed out in fine strands of gold, her lips bright red, and the green eyeshadow on her eyelids, you know it's coming when the narrator tells you she was lying still and not breathing, but it is still shocking nonetheless. (all of this is on the back cover of the book in my hand).

It was the pulpy writing that I really enjoyed and there were sentences and paragraphs that were so juicy that I had to go back and read them more than once to properly savor them. Fisher simply uses his words to capture the mood of the times and it works like a gem. You can feel Peg's obsession with Vicki Lynn and his passionate affair with her and his determination to give her the gift of stardom. show less

Bello, “the greatest gambler of them all”! And he is given four hundred thousand dollars to go up against ten million!

I could hear the slot machines jangling and smell the cigarettes and cheap perfume. And there is a ton of information about gambling and casino operations in this book, circa 1958. Very colorful and descriptive!

My issue is with the main battle of the story - gambler vs. casino. Bello is trying to break the casino, and Joe Martin, the owner, just watches him. He doesn't show more stop him, close the table, or close the casino itself. It is explained with a reference to 'losing face' in the gambling casino and looking weak, or some such thing. I don't know if that was/is a real thing or not. I just know that if a man comes in to play craps and put me out of business, I'd stop him from playing in my casino. But then again, that would be a short story and not a book. show less

If you love hardboiled crime fiction from the forties and fifties like I do, you will absolutely feast on this Steve Fisher novel. It was originally published in 1941 and immediately made into a hit movie starring Betty Grable and Victor Mature. Later, Fisher updated the novel in 1961, perhaps to appeal to contemporary (at that time) readers. Black Lizard, one of the great modern crime fiction publishing houses, republished it in 1991. No matter which edition you pick up, it is a dark, show more hardboiled platter of goodness that I really enjoyed. At 157 pages, it is typical of crime novels of the forties and fifties in length.

The basic story is about about a screenwriter (Peg), who falls head over heels for a stunning secretary in the studio where he works. He then conspires with a few other producers and agents to turn the incredible Vicki Lynn into the next star even though that meant she would be escorted around Hollywood by a male star since Peg as a writer wasn't going to dazzle the public. It tops off with a Hollywood murder and a cynical police detective who is going to find a way to make Peg pay for what he did ( if he did it). But, to be honest, it wasn't the plot that fascinated me about this book, although when you get to the part about the girl who was white as marble, with hair splayed out in fine strands of gold, her lips bright red, and the green eyeshadow on her eyelids, you know it's coming when the narrator tells you she was lying still and not breathing, but it is still shocking nonetheless. (all of this is on the back cover of the book in my hand).

It was the pulpy writing that I really enjoyed and there were sentences and paragraphs that were so juicy that I had to go back and read them more than once to properly savor them. Fisher simply uses his words to capture the mood of the times and it works like a gem. You can feel Peg's obsession with Vicki Lynn and his passionate affair with her and his determination to give her the gift of stardom. show less

Fisher writes like someone who learned to write from a correspondence school. This book is full of passages like, "Memories crowded up around him, like flowers still fragrant but too distant to reach, and no matter which way he turned there was no freedom from them," or "The bare white walls were gleaming with ugly monotony." There is actually much worse than that, but when Fisher sticks to telling the story, he isn't bad. His dialogue moves quickly and propels the stock cast of characters show more through a somewhat atmospheric mystery that (inevitably) resolves itself in several pages of explication by the detective hero. I would consider reading another Fisher book, but it would have to grab me more than this one did. Actually, my primary feeling is one of jealousy - that someone with such a mediocre ability to write, but a pretty good ability to plot - could get published multiple times.

Oh - one more thing, for what it's worth. He hates guinea pigs. show less