Fiction

The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett

I’m sitting at my gate at JFK waiting to board my flight to Heathrow in a few hours. Word on the street is that Heathrow was closed this morning because of a snowstorm. They’re open now, but it sounds like they’re expecting more snow soon, so cross your fingers that Claire and I end up where we’re supposed to be when we’re supposed to be there…

In the meantime, I thought I’d tell you about The Maltese Falcon which I finished on the flight from Mexico City. I’d seen the movie a few years ago and found it a bit confusing – I’ll have to watch it again now that I understand what was happening.

It took me a bit to get used to Hammett’s voice – lots of short, choppy sentences and hyper-descriptive details – but once I did, I really liked it. Especially once I started to picture Humphrey Bogart squinting the words out around an omnipresent cigarette.

I also didn’t realize that Hammett wrote The Thin Man – much love for Nick and Norah Charles – I’ll have to read that next.

My rating: A-