Some good stories fill this volume. But the recent attempt at a John O'Hara revival failed for a reason. He's not that good. If you've read one O'Hara story, you've read them all. O'Hara's same obsessions are played out in every story. His two obsessions were 1) Status 2) The obsession with and assumption that if a male and female are left alone together, one will immediately try and jump the other's bones. Maybe I've led a dull life, but I've actually been left alone with girls and women when neither I nor they tried to bed the other. The other thing is O'Hara thought he was one of the greatest writers ever...but, by his own admission, was not that well read. He mainly read Hemingway and Fitzgerald over and over. Not bad role models at all. But O'Hara famously said in a review of a Hemingway book that Hemingway was the greatest writer since Shakespeare (suggesting, of course, that O'Hara was the SECOND greatest writer since Shakespeare!). But O'Hara once responsed to a critic who said his writing resembled Tolstoy's (pulEEASE!) that, "Gee, I've never even READ Tolstoy." Now how could O'Hara say Hemingway was the greatest writer since Shakespeare when O'Hara had never read Tolstoy!!! Even ego-ridden Hemingway admitted Tolstoy was a greater writer than himself. And how can a literary writer dare sit down to write when he hasn't yet read the master, Tolstoy. O'Hara was okay, but not great. Yeah, no wonder that revival attempt in the mid-90's flopped.

This is an astonishing collection of short stories from a past master that everyone has forgotten, but could surely learn from, or relish. I liked the novellas best, including "Imagine Kissing Pete", "Ninety Minutes Away", and "Natica Jackson." What I was astonished by was how quickly they were read; it was like watching and feeling life unfolding before my eyes. The first masterpiece in this collection is "Over the River and Through the Wood" that must be one of the most disturbing stories ever written. It is disgusting to me that not a single O'Hara story was included in the recent "Best American Short Stories of the Century"; if a claim can be made that Hemingway, Faulkner and Fitzgerald must be included, then so must O'Hara. John O'Hara is an American legend. He should be revived.

This volume is bursting at the seams with Chandler's writings and it is an astonishing value even at the retail price. It even comes wrapped in plastic!!! Alas I do have one complaint, you can buy Double Indemnity on it's own in a seperate volume that is very much in print. The editors at LOA must be aware of this. If so, they must also be aware that "The Blue Dahlia" is no longer in print and has not been since 1976. Wouldn't it have made more since to eliminate "Double Indemnity" since it is readily available in another volume and replace it with "Blue Dahlia"? Couldn't an argument be made that in addition to it's scarcity "The Blue Dahlia" is also a better representation of Chandler's screenwriting talent because it his only produced solo effort and the fact that it garnered him an Oscar nomination?

Bottom line: LOA has redeemed itself for it's blatant lies on the Dust Jacket of "Stories and Early Novels" (see my review "Incomplete and Misleading")By the way, no one has ever explained why they neglected to include Chandler's last complete Marlowe story, "The Pencil".
I will be writing other reviews of Chandler collections undwe the clever title of "The Simple Art of Editing" and let me assure you that they do not hold up as well as this LOA masterpiece.

Contained in this volume are the last four (of seven) Marlowe novels, the Double Indemnity script co-written with Billy Wilder (including lines that were cut), his famous essay on "The Simple Art of Murder", one on "Writers in Hollywood", another titled "Twelve Notes on the Mystery Story", and finally "Notes (very brief, please) on English and American Style". Couple these with thoroughly entertaining and sometimes revealing letters to friends and fans, and you can't miss.

In one of these letters he even discusses fellow hardboiled writer Ross Macdonald's (here called John, as he hadn't changed his name yet) The Moving Target, which cribbed some ideas from The Big Sleep and Dashiell Hammett's The Thin Man.

The novels themselves? Classic Chandler - enough said. If you'd like to know why you should expect the best in hardboiled detective fiction, well, read 'em all, or at least one. (If you're planning on that course of action, try the first in the series, The Big Sleep, included in a similar volume called Stories and Early Novels: Pulp Stories/The Big Sleep/Farewell, My Lovely/The High Window.)

Bottom line, this is required reading for anyone who won't read just anything but at the same time doesn't limit themself to Anna Karenina.

Raymond Chandler died 43 years ago, yet the seven novels he wrote have ALL been in print since their original publication. Why? Because Chandler was a first-rate prose stylist who took the hard-boiled detective novel places it had never been before...and has seldom been since.

THE SELECTED LETTERS OF RAYMOND CHANDLER is for anyone who loves THE BIG SLEEP, FAREWELL MY LOVELY and all the rest. It gives us a chance to get inside Chandler's head, to listen to him expound on Hollywood, the art of writing, the publishing business, the agony of seeing a wife die a slow death.

Like Sam Clemens, Chandler wrote a good many letters. And like that other great American original, not all the letters are memorable, but a LOT of them have a snap and bite that still resonate a half century later. For example:

"Television is really what we've been looking for all our lives. It took a certain mount of effort to go to the movies. Somebody had to stay with the kids. You had to get the car out of the garage. That was hard work. And you had to drive and park. Sometimes you had to walk as much as half a block to the theater. Then people with big fat heads would sit in front of you and make you nervous. Reading took less physical effort, but you had to concentrate a little, even when you were reading a mystery...And every once in awhile you were apt to trip over a three-syllable word. That was pretty hard on the brain....

But television's perfect. You turn a few knobs, a few of those mechanical adjustments at which the higher apes are so proficient, and lean back and drain your mind of all thought. And there you are watching the bubbles in the primieval ooze. You don't have to concentrate. You don't have to react. You don't have to remember. You don't miss your brain because you don't need it. Your heart and liver and lungs continue to function normally. Apart from that, all is peace and quiet...And if some nasty-minded person comes along and says you look more like a fly on a can of garbage, pay him no mind. He probably hasn't got the price of a television set."

Like I said. Chandler was one of a kind. Writing letters or writing novels.

This collection offers the fan of America's most under-rated novelist a glimpse into his mind, this relationships, his thoughts. The index allows a reader to find very specific references to subjects. Highly recommended for the serious student of Chandler.

"Nothing made it my business except curiosity. But strictly speaking, I hadn't had any business in a month."(21) For Phillip Marlowe, the irresistibly aloof private detective who stars in Chandler's impressive detective novel, Farewell, My Lovely, crime is not something he seems able or willing to avoid. Hitting the streets of Los Angeles in the midst of the American gambling craze of the 1930's, Marlowe finds himself an inextricable player in a search for knowledge of past and present crimes and criminals.
Though he appears, on the surface, to be little more than a nosy, bumbling "private dick," his successful unraveling of a closely interwoven crowd of crooks proves, as one suspect cop observes, that Marlowe "played...smart....You must got something we wasn't told about." (228) Keeping his cards in his hand for most of the noel, Chandler shows that both he and Marlowe are "smart," leading the reader on a circuitous trail that shakes out only in the novel's final pages.
The story begins with a happenstance encounter between Marlowe and an ex-con called "Moose" Malloy. Marlowe cannot resist pursuing the suspicious-looking hulk of a man and soon finds himself both running after and from a variety of shady characters. In the course of his private investigations, Marlowe survives several near brushes with death, getting "sapped" by thugs near the novel's start, pumped full of opium in a suspicious hospital-like place, and stealthily boarding a closely guarded gambling boat to confront an infamous mobster in the middle of the night. In the end, Marlowe succeeds at untangling the web of murders and crimes that keep him running throughout the novel, but not before giving the reader the run-around as well. Chandler's smart, articulate prose lends itself well to the captivating story and intriguing characters that combine to make this a must-read for fans of detective fiction.

Chandler is the greatest writer of detective fiction and a great author period. To ignore these books is to ignore much of what is great about American literature.

Earlier anthologies of Raymond Chandler's works mostly center upon what have come to be known as his 'big four' or earliest novels -- The Big Sleep, Farewell My Lovely, The High Window, The Lady In The Lake -- or upon his later, and admittedly (with the possible exception of The Little Sister) 'inferior' works. Chandler's earlier short stories ( many of which he "cannibalized," to use his word, for the material in his subsequent novels) are normally treated as a separate genre altogether.

This particular collection, rightly, combines Chandler's first three novels with the best of his earlier short stories, recognizing the thematic unity in those works. (Good as it is, "The Lady In The Lake" demands to be treated separately from Chandler's earlier efforts.)

Chances are, if you're reading this, you've read most, if not all, of Chandler's Phillip Marlowe novels. You may as well have read many, if not all, of the short stories presented here. But have you read these novels, and these short stories, TOGETHER in this context? Likely not. But you deserve to.

In the short stories, for example, there are protagonists named John Evans, Ted Carmody and Tony Resick (the last two of which, interestingly, inhabit locations which were most likely Los Angeles' Hotel Mayfair, with which Chandler had more than a nodding familiarity). And when, in Chandler's writings, did they meld themselves into what would be his penultimate creation, Phillip Marlowe?

And at which point did Chandler begin to write, as fellow writer Ross McDonald termed it, "like a slumming angel . . ."? The answers to both questions may well lie here, in this collection.

Pick up this collection! Read it! Discover the material anew!

I don't really expect a lot from biographies. The facts are what is necessary for me. But I did enjoy reading this book about an interesting man of letters - an enigma in the alumni of American writers to be sure. Jones life is told in a cronologically fashion with many anecdotes and quotes given of this great writer and complex man.

I was surprised that so much material from a previous collection ('Selected letters of Raymond Chandler', ed. McShane, 1981)is repeated in this book. Maybe I didn't do my homework, but I don't recall this fact being mentioned in promotions or reviews. When you're paying (as I did) [price] for a book, it's disappointing to keep coming across previously published letters. Chandler's writing is still great, but I'm sure he'd have something to say about this practice.

What a fun collection this is! Another book of letters by another famous author I read recently was embarrassingly boring--it never should have been printed. But Chandler's style and pithy observations make this collection a treat. Though a loner and a lush, he maintained cordial relations with his colleagues, and his comments on the passing scene are keen. From acerbic observations on life in southern California, to wry descriptions of his cat's habits, to sometimes generous and sometimes acerbic appraisals of agents, publishers, and fellow writers, his prose is absolutely sparkling.

His coverage of Oscars night in the mid-Forties for The Atlantic magazine is a masterpiece of scorn for the glitterati. Around the same time he accurately dismisses the new medium of television's supposed threat to the book industry. People who tune in to watch "fourth-rate club fighters rub noses on the ropes are not losing any time from book reading." Just as frequently, Chandler comes across as thoughtful and a good friend--not at all Marlowe-ish, though you get the feeling he could be a tough guy if need be. If you read only one book of collected letters of a famous author this year, etc.

Chandler had probably never seen most of the people with whom he corresponded in his letters, but his opinions on everything from the plight of the writer in Hollywood to the merits of housecats are not only witty and memorable, but also indicate an extremely thoughtful man and first-rate analytical mind. The only problem I had with Hiney's editing is that a bit more could have been explained--although some of the context of each letter is provided, additional information would have been helpful. I believe I would have appreciated Chandler's observations even more had this been the case.