Razorblade Tears, Staying True to the Genre

There is so much over-the-top violence in this book, it even outdoes Eddie’s Boy in that department (and if you have read Eddie’s Boy, you know that is saying a lot). Anyhoo, self doesn’t really mind, because it stays true to its genre. Not only that, the plot is something else.

Her favorite character is Buddy Lee.

“And we gonna need guns. Lots of guns,” Ike said. Buddy Lee sucked his teeth.

“I think we can kill both them birds with one stone. But we gotta go talk to some folks. What we gonna do with him?” Buddy Lee asked.

“We’ll chain him to the sink in the bathroom,” Ike said.

“You came up with that quick,” Buddy Lee said.

“This ain’t my first rodeo.”

“I know, mine neither. You got a talent for it, though,” Buddy Lee said.

“Unfortunately,” Ike said.

Razorblade Tears, p. 290

Her next book (which she is quite itching to get to) is called The End of Men, and it’s about a dystopian future world where men are an endangered gender. Unfortunately, we still need them to reproduce. In light of Texas bounty hunter/abortion law which the Supreme Court of the United States allowed to let stand (despite the law’s utter stupidity; self is a woman, she is allowed to say such things), she will have a lot of fun reading about a future world where men are scarce.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

2nd Noir of the Day, 2 September 2021

“What the hell is going on out here?” Randy yelled. He had the self-assurance of most mediocre men.

Razorblade Tears, p. 157

There is much violence in this book. In fact, the two main characters can’t seem to hold a normal conversation, unless it’s with each other. With others, each conversation begins with a threat and ends with violence. That’s a lot of violence because, this being noir, there’s also a lot of conversation.

Nevertheless.

You will be vested in the characters.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Noir of the Day

Remember that scene in Pulp Fiction where Bruce Willis has to …

Never mind. Read on.

“I can just tell ’em you ain’t here,” Jazzy said.

“No, that’s okay. Let’s see what they want,” Ike said. He walked around his cubicle and headed for the lobby. As he was on his way he grabbed a machete off the wall.

Five men in leather vests and various degrees of hirsuteness were standing in the lobby. A couple of them were reading the avertisements on the wall. Two more were standing near the door. A big blond man with a wicked scar on his cheek that cut through his beard was leaning against the soda machine with his heavily tattooed arms crossed.

Ike placed the machete on the counter.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

Razorblade Tears, p. 105

1st of September: RAZORBLADE TEARS Quote of the Day

When he hit the ground, the big pistol jumped out of his hand like the Gingerbread Man making a break for it.

Razorblade Tears, p. 79

Razorblade Tears Quote of the Day

Three narrow-looking white kids sat behind a glass display case that served as the sales counter. A bearded guy, a clean-shaven guy who was sporting a monocle, and a girl who looked like she had just stopped wearing light-up shoes a week ago.

Razorblade Tears, p. 51

Noir Sentence of the Day

His blonde hair was slicked back with so much product a fly would break its neck trying to land on it.

Razorblade Tears, p. 35

Now THAT’S noir.

Razorblade Tears: Noir with a Capital ‘N’

Back to reading noir!

And Razorblade Tears is a most excellent example of the genre.

Self will not summarize, as it will be ever so much more fun if dear blog readers begin this book without having a clue.

Buddy Lee had it all wrong. Ike wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. He wasn’t afraid to spill blood. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop.

Razorblade Tears, by S. A. Cosby, p. 29

Noir-ish 2

Reading Elmore Leonard’s Chickasaw Charlie Hoke.

There is a “big redhead” named Vernice, looking “like a strawberry sundae in her La-Z-Boy.”

There is “bourbon over crushed ice.”

There are mentions of “a pit boss at Bally’s,” a waitress at the Isle of Capri coffee shop.

There is an “RV in a trailer park on the outskirts of Tunica, Mississippi.”

Very fun reading Elmore Leonard. It brings back all the FEELZ about Justified, the F/X series that ran for six seasons and had Timothy Olyphant! Timothy Olyphant! Who Salon’s TV reviewer described as “one tall, cool drink of water”!

2b03a97f21d7610731f5b5a2ff0fcc90-98.jpg

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

Noir-ish

Reading Elmore Leonard’s “Sparks.”

There must be gin.

There must be a rich widow who knows how to roll a joint.

There must be a detective of a certain age (and he must be a Jim or a Joe)

There must be dialogue like this:

“But, basically, Joe, we got together the way people usually do, and fell in love.”

“He was a lot older than you.”

“What you’re asking now, did I marry him for his money. Sure, that had a lot to do with it. But I liked him.”

It is summer, it is summer, it is summer. Summer and noir go together like white on rice.

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

 

My Cousin Rachel, Chapter V: Who Is Gaslighting Who?

Clever, clever Daphne du Maurier. She writes as though she had a Ph.D. in Psychology.

Oh, wait. She’s a writer. All writers know psychology. To a certain degree.

Self will not lie: the summer is over, and so many things demand her attention. How she loved reading like nothing else mattered. She read Jamaica Inn in a perfect cone of concentration.

Here in Ch. V, dear, misguided Philip Ashley, having no inkling of the train that is coming to bear down on him, meets Signor Rainaldi for the first time, and doesn’t quite trust him. Signor Rainaldi has just strongly hinted that he thinks Philip should return home to England instead of poking about Florence for answers that will never come. Philip rather unwisely reveals his worries to this complete stranger:

“These two letters,” I said stubbornly, “are not the letters of a sick man, of a person ill. They are the letters of a man who has enemies, who is surrounded by people he cannot trust.”

Signor Rainaldi watched me steadily.

“They are the letters of a man who was sick in mind, Mr. Ashley,” he answered me. “Forgive my bluntness, but I saw him those last weeks, and you did not. The experience was not a pleasant one for any of us, least of all for his wife. You see what he says in that first letter there, that she did not leave him. I can vouchsafe for that. She did not leave him night or day. Another woman would have had nuns to tend him. She nursed him alone, she spared herself nothing.”

“Yet it did not help him,” I said. “Look at the letters, and this last line, ‘She has done for me at last, Rachel my torment . . . ‘ What do you make of that, Signor Rainaldi?”

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

 

 

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