I found my way to this book through Nero Wolfe. In the paperback Bantam Crime Line edition of one of my favorite Wolfe books, The Doorbell Rang, the introduction was written by Stuart Kaminsky, who said that the end of The Doorbell Rang was his favorite ending to any novel until he read Eight Million Ways to Die by Lawrence Block, published in 1982.
That was pretty high praise to me, so I picked up a copy and read it several years ago. Yesterday, I read it again and here are my refreshed thoughts.
The title is based on the famous ending line from the film and TV series The Naked City. That series always ended an entry with the words, "There are eight million stories in the naked city. This has been one of them." Block's paraphrase is a bit darker, but no less true.
We follow our protagonist, Matt Scudder, a former cop, now an unlicensed private detective. He doesn't have any semi-official standing, like Wolfe and Archie do; all he does is "favors" for "friends." As of this book's writing, Matt appeared in one previous novel, The Sins of the Father, from 1976.
With Matt we get a lot of fragility, stubbornness, and despair, but we also get thoughtfulness, tenaciousness, and diplomacy. Matt is fighting alcoholism, which although it's not a problem I've faced, Block makes it seem menacing and debilitating without making Matt pathetic. Matt's a good person. He sends money to his ex-wife and son, and he tithes even though he's not really a member of any specific church. He is quite sympathetic even if you don't understand his problem with addiction.
For setting, we have a portrait of New York City at a low point. Nearly every character in the book is some kind of outlaw; pimps, thieves, hookers, and drug addicts abound.
Matt attends AA meetings but doesn't speak much. While we see some of AA's positive effects on him and others, we also see a heaping helping of cynicism about it, too. It's a nuanced view, not a caricature.
The tone is dark and depressing, but not quite as doomed or desperate as something like On the Beach, for instance. Most of the people in trouble have made their way there through quite a few bad decisions. Matt is no different, and he is somewhat numb to the despair. Instead of shocking and edgy, most of the book is dreary and almost detached. It's wet sandpaper, not dry.
Matt's narration is vivid and full of personal anecdotal references and metaphor, without ever feeling overbearing or silly. It lacks the sharpness of noir, though there are a few very graphic descriptions scattered around the book. Nevertheless, the story is full of cold leads and vague guesses that make its mysteries sizzle.
Another odd thing about this book is its unorthodox structure, from a murder mystery reader's perspective; it's not a whodunit. It's more about the human drama, of which we are constantly reminded by the AA meetings Matt barely participates in. The pacing is slow but fairly consistent; the only lulls are the short AA meetings.
The inciting incident is the murder of a girl who hired Matt to help her get away from her pimp. It doesn't go the way you might expect in a more cliché story. If you want more spoilers, check the Spoiler section of the embedded video, from 14:36 to 25:00.
I wouldn't call it a fun read, but it's engaging and interesting and well-written. It has a unique voice in a unique setting, and it feels very real, even if it's a bit exaggerated.
Matt's development is a constant struggle between his numbness and his desire to become completely numb. The ending was, in my mind, a little weak, but showed most of the characters improving their lives a little as a result of Matt's efforts.
If it sounds worth reading to you, grab a copy here.
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