The book that launched the TV series of the same name.[return][return]Once again displaying Hailey's ability to show both the large and small detail of a big entity (being a hotel, or a bank or an airport).[return][return]This tells the story from the point of view of the manager of a medium sized independant hotel that is slightly down on its luck and on the verge of being brought out by a large chain of faceless hotels. The small things (the small frauds, the fire alarm causing evacuations, the tarts touting for business in the bar) to the larger issues, such as trying to keep the hotel afloat whilst preventing the hostile takeover. [return][return]You can imagine that the overall day to day details and challenges of running a hotel havent really changed so although this was written 40 years ago it hasnt really dated that much ( )

Did you ever wonder why hotels and motels switched to those irritating plastic cards to be used for keys, when half the time they don't work?
I liked the character Keycase, because while he was a thief, Hailey had him steal twice from the rich, and once from a drunken pendejo harassing a dancer from a stripbar.
Hardcover 1965
P.74-5:
"Both incidents were disappointing, but an old experience. Keycase continued to observe. he was a patient man. soon, he knew, what he was waiting for would happen.
10 minutes later his vigil was rewarded.
a florid-faced, balding man, carrying a top coat, bulging flight bag and camera, stopped to choose a magazine on his way to the departure ramp. at the newstand cash desk he discovered a hotel key and gave an exclamation of annoyance. his wife, a thin mild woman, made a quiet suggestion to which he snapped 'there isn't any time." Keycase, overhearing, followed them closely. good! As they passed a trash can, the man threw the key in.
for Keycase the rest was routine. Strolling past the trash can, he tossed in his own folded newspaper, then, as if abruptly changing his mind, turned back and recovered it. at the same time he looked down, observed the discarded key and Palmed it unobtrusively. A few minutes later in the privacy of the men's toilet he read that it was for room 641 of the St Gregory hotel."

P.125-7:
"in a Bourbon Street stripjoint the big hipped blonde leaned closer to her male companion, one hand resting on his thigh, the fingers of the other fondling the base of his neck. 'sure,' she said. 'sure I want to go to bed with you, honey.'
Stan somebody, he had said he was, from a hicktown in Iowa she had never heard of. and if he breathes at me anymore, she thought, I'll puke. That's not bad breath in his mouth; it's a direct line from a sewer.
'wadda we waitin' for, then?' The man asked thickly. he took her hand, moving it higher on the inside of his thigh. 'I got something special for you there, baby.'
she thought contemptuously: they were all the same, the loudmouth chawbacons who came here – convinced that what they had between their legs was something exceptional which women panted for, and as irrationally proud as if they had grown it themselves like a prize cucumber. Probably, if put to a real white-hot test, this one would wind up incapable and whimpering, like others. But she had no intention of finding out. God! – that stinking breath....
'listen,' the man from Iowa said impatiently, 'whyn't we blow?'
'I already told you, sugar. I work here. I can't leave yet. I got my ACT to do.'
'piss on your act!'
'Now, honey, that's not nice.' As if with sudden inspiration, the hippie blonde said, 'what hotel you staying at?'
'St gregory.'
'that's not far from here.'
'Can have your pants off in 5 minutes.'
She chided: 'won't I get a drink first?'
'you bet you will! Let's go!'
'Wait, Stanley darling! I've an idea.'
The lines were going exactly right, she thought, like a smoothly running playlist. and why not? It was the thousandth performance, give or take a few hundred either way. for the past hour and a half Stan whoever-he-was from somewhere had docilely followed the tired old routine: the first drink – a try-on at four times the price he would have paid in an honest bar. then the waiter had brought her over to join him. they had been served a succession of drinks, though, like the other girls who worked on bar commission, she had had cold tea instead of cheap whiskey which the customers got. and later she had tipped off the waiter to hustle the full treatment – a split bottle of domestic champagne for which the bill, though Stanley Sucker didn't know it yet, would be $40 – and just let him try to get out without paying!
so all that remained was to ditch him, though maybe in doing so – if the lines kept going right – she could earn another small commission. after all, she was entitled to some sort of bonus for enduring that stinking breath.
He was asking, 'wha' idea, baby?'
'Leave me your hotel key. You can get another at the desk; they always have spares. Soon as I'm through here I'll come and join you.' She squeezed where he had placed her hand. 'you just make sure you're ready for me.' .....
some 2 hours later, at the end of a day as dreary as most – though at least, she consoled herself, a little more productive – the big-hipped blonde sold the key for $10.
The buyer was Keycase milne."

This book is sexist, like most books published at the time. For example, The author talks about a 'big-hipped blonde,' does he ever talk about men with big butts? With big man-boobs? Granted the house security officer is talked about as 'waddling along,' but it's nothing like the descriptions of the women in the book.

The author has the protagonist stand up for civil rights. At a convention for dentists, one of the dentist speakers is a black man. As he is registering, the desk clerk pushes a registration form towards him, and then when he looks up and sees that the guest is black, he snatches back the registration form.
at the end of the book, when the protagonist has been promoted, he says that one of the conditions of him accepting the post is that black people will be allowed as guests in the hotel.

The multi-millionaire who has offered to buy the St Gregory is a typical rich pendejo. Whenever I read the parts of the book about him, I pictured Trumpedo. He's been with a young woman, his escort/girlfriend, for a year, and he's getting ready to dump her for an up-and-coming Hollywood star.
P.232:
" 'I'm afraid - tomorrow morning. You'll fly directly to Los angeles. Hank lemnitzer will meet you.'
dodo moved her head slowly in assent. the slim fingers of one hand went absently to her face, brushing back a strand of ash-blonde hair. it was a simple movement yet, like so many of dodo's, profoundly sensuous. Unreasonably, O'Keefe experienced a jealous twinge at the thought of Hank lemnitzer with dodo. Lemnitzer, who had managed the groundwork for most of his employer's liaisons in the past, would never dare to trifle with the chosen favorite in advance. But afterward... Afterward was something else again. He thrust the thought away.
'I want you to know, my dear, that losing you is a great blow to me. but we have to think of your future.'
'Curtie, it's all right.' Dodo's eyes were still upon him. Despite their innocence, he had an absurd notion they had penetrated to the truth. 'it's all right. You don't have to worry.'
'I'd hoped - about the movie role -you might be more pleased.'
'I am, curtie! Gee, I really am! I think it's swell the way you always do the sweetest things.'
the reaction bolstered his own confidence. 'it's really a tremendous opportunity. I'm sure you'll do well, and of course I shall follow your career closely.' He resolved to concentrate his thoughts on Jenny laMarsh.
'I guess...' There was the slightest catch in dodo's voice. 'I guess you'll go tonight. Before me.'
making an instantaneous decision, he answered, 'no, I'll cancel my flight and leave tomorrow morning. tonight will be a special evening for us both.'
as dodo looked up gratefully, the telephone rang. with a sense of relief for something else to do, he answered it."

This book has a happy ending; one most readers will like. It is, after all fiction. Though dated, this book still allows the reader to see the many employees needed for the multiple functions going on in a big hotel. For example, there's no technology in the hotel. It also shows you ways that a person who never worked in a hotel would think of, in which side hustles can be made. I'm sure it's a lot harder now, what with technology, for employees to siphon off profits. ( )

So many plot-lines woven together.
Very interesting. It was a little tedious at times.
I never saw things coming together the way they did. ( )

Hotel was my choice for a book written the year I was born. Like me it is 50 years old and dated. But, that being said it was an enjoyable read and interesting. Several different plot lines that all come together in a story that provides laughter, sighs, drama and perhaps a couple of tears. It probably accurately reflects many things in New Orleans in the early 60's - racial tension, sexism, economic priveledge and more. Most of the ending was predictable half way through but not all of it and the writing was good enough and the characters interesting enough to keep me reading later than I should. ( )

This was an easy read -- mindless, lightweight entertainment. The story was predictable, the writing only fair, and the tone outdated. (It was published in 1965, just a year after the Civil Rights Act was enacted.) Though the chauvinism and racism were offensive, it was curious being transported to a time that seems like just yesterday, but in which racial segregation was the norm, not contrived for the story. Other than a short bit at the end, which gets a little heavy, this is a good book for the beach -- easy to pick up, easy to put down.
( )