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il ragno
05-23-2009, 07:46 AM
I'm aghast. Donald Westlake is gone - died nearly six months ago (!) - yet somehow I didn't even know it until just now. How could I have possibly missed it? And yet I did.

RIP to one of the best-loved and least-celebrated Great American Writers. This absolutely sucks.

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http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2009/jan/09/obituary-donald-westlake

Obituary: Donald Westlake
Nick Kimberley / Friday 9 January 2009

A sly wit surfaced repeatedly throughout the long literary career of Donald E Westlake, who has died aged 75 from an apparent heart attack. Under various pseudonyms he produced around 100 novels - Westlake himself lost track of the figure - many short stories and at least eight screenplays.

His speciality was the caper novel, in which a criminal or a gang sets about relieving an institution or an individual of money, property or relations, usually to be foiled, not by the police, but by a comic combination of fate and their own ineffectuality. His character John Archibald Dortmunder, hero of more than a dozen novels, was the embodiment of the likably hopeless criminal, forced to commit the same crime over and over again until he gets it right.

It was in 1962, with half a dozen books already under his belt, that he assumed the identity of Richard Stark for The Hunter. This was his first novel to feature the criminal anti-hero Parker - who never acquired a first name.

In essence the 23 novels featuring Parker were capers, although they were not in the least funny. Instead they were dark, bitter accounts of the savage life enjoyed by a criminal who knows no fear and respects no morality but his own. They do not provide any kind of psychological profile of their central figure; instead they bring the reader face to face with an automaton who acts rather than thinks, and whose deeds are invariably self-serving and violent.

The Parker novels are Westlake's greatest achievement, and they retain a dedicated following, but it was the cinema that gave them their widest circulation. The most famous film derived from the series is John Boorman's Point Blank (1967), in which Lee Marvin played up Parker's vicious solipsism. The film renamed the character Walker; in Playback, the 1999 Mel Gibson remake, he became Porter.

Jean-Luc Godard took the Parker novel The Jugger as the basis for his 1966 movie Made in USA, but since he failed to give due credit, Westlake sued and prevented the film being released in the US. Several other films based on Westlake's fiction locate a brash nihilism that the author did not seek to deny.

Westlake himself wrote a number of Hollywood screenplays. The finest was the adaptation he made of Jim Thompson's novel The Grifters, which Stephen Frears filmed in 1990. Between them Westlake and Frears uncovered something profound that Thompson's novel, not one of his best, barely hinted at. The result was a movie that had the power of Greek tragedy while remaining true to its pulp fiction roots.

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In any directory of crime fiction pseudonyms, there should be a special place reserved for Westlake. He was christened Donald Edwin Westlake, initials which prompted the schoolboy nickname "Dewdrip", and perhaps persuaded him that noms de plume were a good idea. Born in Brooklyn and raised in Yonkers and Albany in New York state, he attended several colleges, graduating from none of them.

His first novel, The Mercenaries, was published in 1960 under the name Donald E Westlake. Then he filleted his given names for "Edwin West", which he used for four further novels published in 1961 and 1962 and blessed with such titles as Campus Doll and Young and Innocent. Then came the Richard Stark persona and Parker.

Other "false" identities followed, notably Tucker Coe (five novels) and Samuel Holt (four). As Alan Marsh, or Marshall, he wrote mildly salacious pornography in the 1960s. The names were the shared property of several authors, including the crime novelist Lawrence Block, a friend and occasional collaborator, and it is unclear which novels bearing the names are Westlake's work. In later life he rarely spoke about such torrid fantasies as Apprentice Virgin (1962) and Bed of Shame (1964), but it seems unlikely that he was ashamed of them.

Nor does the roll-call of pseudonyms end there. As John B Allan he wrote a biography of Elizabeth Taylor (1962), and as J Morgan Cunningham created Comfort Station (1970), "inspired by the works of Arthur Hailey" and including on its cover an endorsement, "I wish I had written this book!", from none other than Donald E Westlake.

While Westlake was in London working with Frears on The Grifters, I interviewed him. He was probably fed up with being asked about the Parker novels, by then ancient history, but he patiently put up with my queries. Not that he had much new to say about the books; he did not know why their tone was so much bleaker than anything else he had written, and he had little inclination to provide any kind of psychological or political explanation.

He said that he had no intention of returning to Parker, who had made his last appearance in Butcher's Moon (1974). In 1997, however, encouraged by the publisher and bookseller Otto Penzler, he resurrected Parker, and Richard Stark, for the novel Comeback. Three further Parker novels followed, no doubt simply to prove that Westlake could still do dark.

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He certainly had little else left to prove. He received an Oscar nomination for his screenplay for The Grifters. Although he did not win, there were many who thought that he should have. In 1993 the Mystery Writers of America bestowed on him the well-earned title of Grand Master.

His last novel, Get Real, is due to appear in April. To the end he wrote everything on one of two manual typewriters, because, he said, he needed "something that fights back".

He was married three times. He is survived by his wife and sometime collaborator, the gardening writer Abby Adams, four sons, two stepdaughters, a stepson and four grandchildren.

• Donald Edwin Westlake, writer, born 12 July 1933; died 31 December 2008


http://irresistibletargets.blogspot.com/2009/01/donald-westlake-in-memory-of-con-man.html

DONALD WESTLAKE: IN MEMORY OF A CON MAN
Michael Carlson

Most obituaries of Donald Westlake concentrated, rightly, on his prolific output, more than 100 novels and an equal number of short stories, as well as some exceptional screenplays. Westlake was one of the last of a dying breed, the generation which followed the great pulp magazine writers, and made their livings pounding out paperback originals on manual typewriters. For Westlake, the habit was so ingrained he never gave up his typewriters; he once explained to me that, although he stockpiled old machines to cannibalize for parts, the real difficulty was finding ribbons, which he went through at a prodigious rate.

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I met Westlake a couple of times; the last was a wonderful lunch thrown by Quercus at Chez Elena in Charlotte Street, where Don and Abby were literally the life of the party. I started thinking how that Donald Westlake was the antithesis of his Richard Stark alter ego, in much the same way that the Dortmunder books are a reflection in a fun house mirror of the Parker novels, and then it occurred to me that a central theme of Westlake's work has always been human frailty. His characters are done in, or nearly so, by their weaknesses, their foibles, and in his plots, which he basically made up as he went along, letting the characters find their own ways through situations which usually arise out of those flaws. Then they generally run up against people with more serious flaws, most commonly greed, and things accelerate from there. 'You never really know what you're doing,' he said to me, and I think that applies to most of his characters too.

Even Parker, who wants to know, and control, everything. In fact, Parker is a successful professional thief precisely because he has none of those human failings, the reason for that being he has very little in the way of human feeling, especially in the first series (the redux is a somewhat kinder, gentler sociopath), and he takes advantage of, or takes revenge on, those who do have them.

Like many great comic writers, Westlake's humour had dark roots. The best comedians see the world as a noirish place, and find it funny. Westlake described the Parker books as growing out of an image he had of a man walking across the George Washington Bridge, the feeling of being an outsider he'd experienced himself coming to New York during a peripatetic youth. When he said that, it reminded me of the somewhat lost hero of 'Up Your Banners', a straightforward comic novel he wrote around the student protest movement in the late 1960s, and Westlake loved being reminded of that. He made the connection to Parker himself, saying he'd introduced Grofield, the actor and part-time thief, to the Parker novels in order to have a little comic relief. Grofield spun off into a few books of his own, and at about the same time Westlake, as Tucker Coe, wrote five novels about the ex-cop Mitch Tobin, whose existential angst in expressed by his working on a wall in his backyard. It was as if Tobin were the antithesis of Grofield. Remember too that the opening of the Grofield novel Blackbird, with its failed armored car robbery, was used as the opening of the Parker novel Slayground which was also made into a British movie starring Peter Coyote, Robbie Coltrane, and Billie Whitelaw, Beckett's favorite actress.

It's tempting to concentrate on the playfulness of Westlake's writing: how he and Joe Gores inserted their characters into each other's books, how Grofield pops up in The Hot Rock (still one of the great heist movies, and one of Robert Redford's best roles, with Ron Liebman and Zero Mostel stealing every scene they can from him) or how in Jimmy The Kid the Dortmunder gang use a fictional Parker novel, Child Heist, as the blueprint for their own kidnappingwas while contemplating how one can write the words 'fictional Parker novel' with a straight face that it finally occurred to me that what Donald Westlake actually was, what made him such a treasure as a writer. Westlake was a con man, a first-class con man, and we readers were the marks.

This is no great revelation. Go to Westlake's website and you're greeted with a quote 'I believe my subject is bewilderment' and then another one 'but I could be wrong'. He even wrote a novel called 'God Save The Mark', which won the first of his three Edgars. When he wrote an Arthur Hailey-parody paperback original, Comfort Station, as J. Morgan Cunningham, the book appeared with a blurb saying 'I wish I had written this book'. Signed Donald E Westlake!

Think about it. Westlake started out working for the Scott Meredith Literary Agency, writing critiques of manuscripts sent in, with a fee, by hopeful would-be writers from across America.

Meredith found some great wordsmiths there. Evan Hunter, of course, like Westlake, would establish a second identity for a different sort of book. Lawrence Block would, like Westlake, move between hard-boiled and comic crime. This crowd included Brian Garfield and John Jakes, who would become best-sellers. All of them would write to order under multiple pseudonyms. Some, like Robert Silverberg, could turn out perfectly-typed manuscripts as quickly as they could type. These guys would play poker every week, and practice their con games. They even wrote one novel as a joint enterprise to help one of them out, one player sitting out and writing as chapter while the rest played on, then another sitting out, and so on.

Meredith, as their agent, would get them bulk contracts for paperback originals and contract the work out. This included a huge number of adult novels, of which Westlake claimed to have written 28, though others put the number at 39, or more. He used the name Alan Marshall (or Marsh) for most of them, wrote some with Block who was writing as Sheldon Lord, but also let other writers use the name to sell books published under imprints like Bedside, Nightstand, and the probably unintentionally punning Midwood. It was the same publisher who printed Jim Thompson's later novels, including The Grifters, for which Westlake won another Edgar, and an Oscar nomination. He described writing these books by doing exactly one chapter, fifteen pages a day, for ten days, and figured out that at $900 a pop, he was earning $22.50 an hour. In the Dortmunder novel Bank Shot (filmed with George C Scott lisping for reasons best-known to him) Kelp hits a car whose trunk is filled with adult novels, and all the titles Westlake lists as being visible are ones he wrote.

Westlake then wrote a very funny novel, Adios Scheherazade, about a man who writes porn, cashing in one more time on that genre which is probably the biggest con of all, when you think of con-men as giving the mark what he thinks he wants. I wonder if one of the reasons Westlake wasn't more successful in Hollywood was that those guys never really know what it is they want. But you look at his best work, like the screenplay of The Grifters, or the original screenplay for The Stepfather, or his adaptation of his own novel Cops & Robbers, or the Hammett adaptation Fly Paper (despite some odd casting) for Showtime's Fallen Angels series. Or maybe it was because he simply liked sitting at the typewriter and being the master of his own destiny.

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But I can't escape this sense of Westlake carrying on the con as the reader turns the pages, and I think that's why the Parker books are so special, and may remain the focus of critical attention on Westlake's career. Critics tend to value seriousness over humour, and Richard Stark's books were written with such a taut prose, especially considering the early Sixties milieu in which they first appeared, that they jumped out at you. He was performing that same con, keeping your attention focused, but with such economy that the story-telling was subsumed totally in the force of the story. I remember being transfixed by them when I discovered them, somewhat bizarrely, in the library at Dickinson College, where I found myself teaching. I've written at length for both Shots and Crime Time on the film adaptations of the Parker books, although Point Blank remains a classic film, and was Westlake's own favourite, I remain exceptionally fond of John Flynn's The Outfit, with Robert Duvall the screen's best Parker (though, like all the adaptations, not called Parker). It is a small and perfectly formed crime film that deserves a higher reputation.

Westlake's reputation, on the other hand, has probably never been higher. The early Parker books are being reprinted by the University of Chicago, which says something about American academe as well as the quality of Westlake's writing. Those fabulously entertaining Sixties novels are re-appearing, and as for the early adult stuff, well, let's say university presses need not worry.

But anyone who knew Donald Westlake, even casually, was aware of how full of life he was. You imagine someone who writes seven days a week as being an introvert, but he was anything but. He died on New Year's Eve, as he and Abby were about to go out, and although that is tragic, I see something touching in the thought that he lived his life at a full pace until he just suddenly stopped.

Writers never die, of course, as long as they are being read. And I believe Donald Westlake will go on being read for a very long time. Readers love being conned, after all, and who could do it better?


http://www.latimes.com/features/books/la-et-westlake8-2009jan08,0,2232963.story

Hollywood rarely did Donald Westlake justice
The late Donald E. Westlake wrote his books as if for the screen, and many made it there, but Hollywood just didn't seem to get it.
By Scott Timberg
January 8, 2009

One of the enigmas in the long and rich career of Donald E. Westlake was that this author of more than 100 novels, many of them popular, accessible and plot-driven works of crime fiction, both grim and comic, received such a spotty handling by Hollywood.

Roughly two dozen films emerged from Westlake's novels or involved screenplay work by the man himself. But only two -- 1967's "Point Blank," based on the first novel he wrote under the pseudonym Richard Stark, and Westlake's adaptation of Jim Thompson's "The Grifters" (1990) -- are clear standouts. Both films, oddly, were done by British directors (John Boorman and Stephen Frears, respectively) well out of the Hollywood mainstream.

"When you read the books, your superficial sense of them is that they're totally movie-ready," said Terrence Rafferty, a veteran film critic who's written for the New Yorker and GQ. But adaptations of Westlake's work, he said, range mostly from not very good to the "train wreck" that is 2001's "What's the Worst That Can Happen?" and the "absolutely dreadful" case of 1974's "Bank Shot."

Otto Penzler, Westlake's longtime friend and publisher, calls the author's Hollywood career "erratic." He sees it as "mostly bad luck. There were a couple of good films, but they were mostly lousy." Penzler has a special disdain for the 1982 Gary Coleman vehicle "Jimmy the Kid."

The issue of Westlake's Hollywood legacy is worth pondering now, after the novelist's death, at age 75, of a heart attack on New Year's Eve. Next week, the first-ever film adaptation of Westlake's work, "Made in USA," opens at the Nuart Theatre in West Los Angeles, more than four decades after it was made.
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And that movie highlights another irony: The film, well regarded by the few who have seen it, was directed by Jean-Luc Godard, who is, of course, a Frenchman.

It makes you wonder, Why was it so hard for Hollywood to get Westlake right?

So many attempts

Westlake, who spent most of his life in and around New York City, was admired not just by noir-heads like Elmore Leonard and Quentin Tarantino, but by highbrow novelists like Ireland's John Banville as well. Over a career that spanned five decades, he wrote all kinds of novels, including science fiction and espionage, under a host of pen names to mask his prodigiousness.

But Westlake's major work breaks down into two main series: The comic-heist novels he wrote under his own name, featuring the luckless protagonist John Dortmunder, and the grim, austere Parker novels -- written under the pseudonym Richard Stark -- about an ultra-violent, emotionless hitman with his own rigid code of personal ethics.

"They're so plot-driven," said Penzler of the Parker books. "And what a great character -- there are very few professional crooks in literature who you don't relate too but you sort of root for, because he has this kind of bizarre integrity."

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Many film adaptations of Westlake's novels, both in the U.S. and Europe, have come from the Stark novels. The writer himself described those books, which began with 1962's "The Hunter," as "stripped down and bleak, no adverbs. . . . The name will be 'Stark' to remind me what we're doing here."

Godard's "Made in USA," which uses the Stark novel "The Jugger," about Parker looking into the death of a safecracker, as a jumping-off point, was still close enough to the book that the film was legally tied up for decades over a permission dispute. Despite being the first Westlake adaptation, the 1966 film is only just now -- thanks to the author's agreement -- getting an American release.

It also stands to date as perhaps the most eccentric film ever made from the novelist's work, in part because an actress (Anna Karina) plays the ultra-macho Parker. The film follows her as she seeks answers about the death of her lover in a French-speaking Atlantic City populated by philosophical hoods and singing waifs.

According to actor László Szabó, who plays a corrupt cop in "Made in USA," Westlake's novel was not on the actors' minds much during the shoot. "Jean-Luc just gave us eight to 10 pages of writing," which the actor thinks ensured that the author would not overpower the auteur.

"It was an oddball film even for Godard," Westlake told Variety in 2004.

That movie was followed a year later by Boorman's "Point Blank," which concerns Parker -- here called "Walker" -- rising virtually from the dead after being betrayed by his wife and partner. The next Stark film was the 1968 blaxploitation movie "The Split" -- appropriate since some of Stark's earliest supporters were black men who may have responded to the protagonist's outsider status -- starring NFL great Jim Brown.

In a filmed interview called "The Hunter," the author pointed out that three very different actors played his antihero in the first three films -- Karina in Pop art dresses for "Made in USA," Lee Marvin in a '60s suit for "Point Blank" and the rugged Brown for "The Split."

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As Westlake recalled: "A friend of mine said, 'So far, Parker's been played by a white guy, a black guy and a woman. I think the character lacks definition.' "

For many, it was Marvin who captured Parker's style perfectly. "Lee Marvin was the perfect Westlake actor," Rafferty said. "Impassive and a serious man." (Boorman, oddly, claimed never to have read the novel, "The Hunter," that his celebrated film was based on.)

It's the role Mel Gibson played in "Payback," the 1999 Brian Helgeland movie also based on "The Hunter," a film that many thought made Parker (who in the film is called "Porter") seem too sympathetic -- something that doesn't work with this kind of amoral killer.

Westlake himself, interestingly, called Robert Duvall, who played Parker (called "Macklin") in "The Outfit," the 1973 adaptation of the third Stark novel, "perhaps the closest to Parker. What Lee Marvin did was a wonderful destroyed Lee Marvin. What Robert Duvall did was a wonderful, terse, taciturn Parker."

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His screenwriting

Westlake's other series protagonist, Dortmunder, hasn't fared much better on the big screen; the one exception being the Robert Redford-starring, William Goldman-adapted "The Hot Rock" from 1972. According to Rafferty, part of the problem is that Hollywood filmmakers were often too quick to soften the "cool, very dry, fatalistic" Westlake tone.

Penzler, who is also the editor of "The Black Lizard Big Book of Pulps," has another theory on why adaptations of Westlake weren't more successful.

"The screenwriter they should have hired for all these was Westlake himself. Look at what he did with 'The Grifters.' "

But Westlake's screenwriting career was a mixed success at best. He wrote the well-regarded 1987 horror film "The Stepfather," about a homicidal suburban dad, starring "Lost's" Terry O'Quinn. "The Grifters' " critical and box-office success and Westlake's Oscar nomination for his work in the film made him popular in Hollywood, but his movie career never caught fire. He worked on the James Bond film "Tomorrow Never Dies" but did not receive screenwriting credit, and he co-wrote the script for 2005's "Ripley Under Ground."

The author said: "If I write a novel, I'm a god. If I write a screenplay, I'm a minor deity."

"He was a total realist," said Penzler, who said that Westlake loved watching movies and did not expect Hollywood to be a cakewalk. But he was not the kind of writer who liked setting his books aside for long to work on a film. "At the end of the day, he was a novelist."

DudleySmith
05-23-2009, 08:39 AM
I didn't know he died, either. I didn't really get into his novels, but I was aware he did a few screenplays I liked, namely 'Point Blank' and 'The Grifters'.

I have read quite a few Lawrence Block stories, since he's brought up a lot in the articles; he was on some talk show just the other night, the one after Letterman, I believe.

O'Zebedee
05-23-2009, 04:43 PM
A friend of mine who always seems to find out about these things emailed me a link to a news story after Westlake died - I didn't bother posting anything because there's usually only a couple of us on here that cares about such things, and I figured the thread would quickly disappear.

Plus, I figured Ragno would already know (he usually does) - thus making the point of the thread moot unless Brecks read it.

-------------------------------------------------------

I had no idea that Made in the USA was from a Westlake script - now I definitely need to see it.

il ragno
05-23-2009, 06:49 PM
Curious fact: in none of the Parker films was the character ever named Parker.

The Parker novels are Westlake's greatest achievement, and they retain a dedicated following, but it was the cinema that gave them their widest circulation.

It's sad but we now live in an age when even the literary critics, weaned on movies, tv, one-person shooter games and comic books, seem allergic to reading. To claim the Parker books are his "greatest achievement" is a mark of how degraded our culture is, because it's obvious what this critic is responding to isn't the prose but the patina of cool that the books have acquired over the years, and - more importantly - the sense that being seen reading them (or in this case, overpraising them) transfers that cool onto the reader. And 9 times out of ten, what the modern critic is defining as cool is the sadism in the books and the protagonist's total absorption in survival - in self - and his complete lack of conscience at killing the innocent and the guilty alike. (That, plus they’ve watched POINT BLANK too many times.)

It's not that there’s anything wrong with the Parker books - they're terse, tense, exciting exercises in viciousness. The first seven or eight are minor classics, after which the character and his adventures drift into formula and predictability. The first few were published in the early 60s, when there was a real, startling thunderclap of subversiveness to the amorality being depicted; but in the ensuing entries (the second run of Parkers began in the mid-90s) ...well...any and every ponytailed “creator” fancying himself a “dark visionary” is running that number these days.

However -

Godard's "Made in USA," which uses the Stark novel "The Jugger," about Parker looking into the death of a safecracker, as a jumping-off point, was still close enough to the book that the film was legally tied up for decades over a permission dispute.

I doubt it will come all that close. THE JUGGER is the one Parker book Westlake disliked: he felt he had his anti-hero break character by feeling empathy for an old confederate being tortured for information he didn’t have, thus uncharacteristically landing Parker in the midst of a jam unrelated to any caper. If so, Westlake was an unreliable judge of his own work, because THE JUGGER is the most brutal and uncompromising Parker novel, which defines the character beyond all doubt or vagueness. It’s so harsh, there’s literally nowhere for the books, or the character, to go. Had he ended the series with THE JUGGER’s blackly existential last scene – Parker, his money gone and his carefully-constructed cover identity blown, steals a car and drives off into the night without a plan or a destination, grimly determined to start over somehow, somewhere else – the series would have concluded with the same jarring impact it had begun with. Instead, eighteen more novels followed.

No, Westlake’s greatest achievement are his Dortmunder books – the “comic crime” novels he made his name with, which are built not just on farcical complications but on solidly-delineated character: Dortmunder and his motley band of fuckups are heroic thieves not because they’re thieves, but because they are fuckups - so flawed, so comically vulnerable – we see ourselves in them every step of the way. We don’t root for them to get away clean with the diamond or the bank or the payroll – we already know they won’t – we just root for them to hold on to their dignity in a world ruthlessly bent on stripping it off them like paint thinner. (Like the man said, dying is easy; comedy’s hard.) I would never try to dissuade anyone from reading Westlake under any of his bylines – some of his nonseries, standalone books are gems as well – but the choicest Westlake is the Westlake with the most generous portions of humanity in them. Start with THE HOT ROCK and progress from there to THE BANK SHOT, JIMMY THE KID, WHY ME? and DROWNED HOPES. Don't overlook his best standalones: 361, THE FUGITIVE PIGEON, DANCING AZTECS, THE SPY IN THE OINTMENT and TRUST ME ON THIS. Supposedly, KAHAWA and THE AX are among his best as well.

Breckinridge Elkins
05-24-2009, 12:28 AM
Donald Westlake R.I.P.

Michael Blowhard writes:

Dear Blowhards --


I was very sorry to learn that the crime fiction writer Donald Westlake has died. He was 75, and until his sudden heart attack on Wednesday evening had been as busy and active as ever.

FWIW, Westlake was among my very favorite fiction writers ever -- and I do mean ever, as in "of all times." While the novels of his that I've read have ranged from fabulous to pretty-good, each and every one of them had a snazzy hook, a half a dozen fully-inhabited characters, a handful of fun plot twists, loads of satirical observations, and a big and mischievous spirit. Each and every one, in other words, delivered a generous heaping of talent and entertainment. And the man published more than a hundred different books!

Though I generally avoid arguing over greatness and comparing rankings and such, let me say this in anticipation of those who would protest "How can you say that Westlake was one of the greats? Which of his books would you set up against 'Ulysses'?"

I'm not saying that Westlake was one of the greats in any for-eternity, lit-crit way. I'm saying that as far as I'm concerned he was one of the greats.

As for the immortality stuff: Well, history will take care of it ... I won't be around to agree or disagree anyway ... And then history may, or may not, change its mind ... So explain to me why exactly I should care?

I will argue that Westlake was an awe-inspiring talent, that he was fantastically productive, and that he consistenly kept his output at a very high level. If we can't agree on this, then let's change the subject right now.

The point of comparison here shouldn't be "Ulysses" anyway. No disrespect meant to James Joyce -- but aren't there plenty of reasons to grant a lot of respect to Westlake as well? After all, in the time that it took Joyce to write "Ulysses," Westlake produced dozens of hooks, scads of inspired plot twists, and crowds of lively characters.

Let's get our terms straight. Westlake wasn't playing the literary set's sacrifice-it-all-for-one-masterpiece game. He was a hyper-gifted working-class writer who entertained everyday readers for a living. No, the point of comparison should be TV series. Can an episode of "The Sopranos" really be said to rival "Rules of the Game"? Obviously not. But perhaps it can be plausibly argued that "The Sopranos" as a series deserves the respect we accord the best movies and novels. My point: It's better to think of Westlake's work not as a rival to "Ulysses" but as something with a long run, something you tune into, something you can count on to deliver a lot -- something like "The Sopranos." Which maybe we can agree is plenty awe-inspiring in its own terms, and in its own right.

Another good comparison: P.G. Wodehouse. Both of them tremendous entertainers; both creators of huge bodies of high-quality work. Hey, isn't it one of the more pleasing developments of 20th century fiction-writing, the way that Wodehouse has proved to be one of the era's most enduring creators? So much so in fact that critics and even a few profs have taken note. (Not that you'll yet find Wodehouse on many intros-to-lit college reading lists. And why not?) How long will we have to wait 'till the higher-brow set wakes up to what a treasure we had in Westlake?

Semi-related: I've praised Donald Westlake regularly on this blog. Here's my most lengthy posting about him. Recently The Wife and I read Westlake's script for "The Stepfather." Now there's one flawless, trenchant, funny, and intense piece of storytelling. Between you and me? Genius. Buy a copy where you normally buy screenplays. Read interviews with Westlake here and here. If you enjoy them, then the chances are that you'll enjoy Westlake's fiction too. Here's my lament upon the death of another one of my favorite artist-entertainers, the filmmaker Robert Altman. Finally even the giants must fall. In this posting I wondered about what's likely to become of the reputation of "Ulysses."

Best,

Michael
posted by Michael at January 2, 2009

http://www.2blowhards.com/archives/2009/01/donald_westlake.html

Breckinridge Elkins
05-24-2009, 12:30 AM
By OTTO PENZLER

There is a cliché (and clichés usually become clichés because they're true) that comedians and comic writers are dark, angry, unhappy souls.

Donald E. Westlake, who died on New Year's Eve of a heart attack at age 75, was the funniest mystery writer who ever lived, and nothing about him, or his work, was a cliché. You wanted him at a party because he loved to laugh, just as he loved to make people laugh. He made it clear that he was never the funniest kid in school, but was always the best friend of the funniest kid.

He had a million stories. When he told them, his eyes twinkled and he couldn't help but laugh as he recounted complex tales, astonished anew at the bizarre turn of events that his narrative took.

View Full Image

Associated Press

Donald E. Westlake in 2001.




Westlake didn't write a million stories, but it may have seemed that way in his earliest years, when he managed to write three or four or more books a year. He started out writing on a Smith-Corona portable typewriter and never felt an urge to modernize, and definitely didn't want an electric. "When I'm thinking," he said, "I don't want something humming at me."

There is a dismissive sniff that clings to the word "prolific," but Westlake was unapologetically productive, much like Charles Dickens, Agatha Christie and Joyce Carol Oates, with more than 100 books to his credit. He once wrote that being prolific is "at once delightful and embarrassing." He didn't think he was getting all that much accomplished on a day-to-day basis, but "when I tot it all up," he conceded, "there is rather a mess here."

He found his voice -- or, rather, his voices -- early. It is impossible to know which of his personae had the more dedicated following. As Donald E. Westlake, he began his mystery-writing career in 1960 with hard-boiled novels in the style of Dashiell Hammett (his greatest literary influence) before turning to the comic form for which he became famous.

His hapless protagonists became comic figures because they lived in a constant state of bewilderment. In "The Spy in the Ointment," a pacifist finds himself somehow in a terrorist cell. In "Somebody Owes Me Money," a Runyonesque cabdriver is caught in the middle of a gang war. In "Two Much!" a con man pretends to be twins so that he can marry two rich and beautiful sisters. A guy with a windfall inheritance becomes the victim of every con artist in New York in "God Save the Mark," which won the Edgar Allan Poe Award from the Mystery Writers of America as the best novel of 1967. He eventually won two more Edgars and was named a Grand Master for lifetime achievement.

His best-known pseudonym is Richard Stark, a name not chosen by happenstance. The lean, hard prose of these novels, mostly about a professional criminal named Parker, is the perfect voice for a no-nonsense protagonist played so perfectly by Lee Marvin in "Point Blank," the best film noir of the 1960s. Nothing about Parker is easy to like. "No small talk," as Westlake once said, "no quirks, no pets." He's just a guy going about his business, which is robbery, and sometimes involves killing people.

While Westlake was writing one Stark novel, everything that Parker did seemed to go wrong, so he simply allowed it be funny, spawning his best-known comic character, John Archibald Dortmunder, in the novel "The Hot Rock," published in 1970 and filmed two years later with Robert Redford and Zero Mostel.

In the Dortmunder adventures, the highly intelligent thief who meticulously constructs perfect capers is hopelessly, relentlessly, unsuccessful. He's charming and likable, nonviolent, and readers inevitably root for him and his infallible, if nefarious, plans, only to watch them fall apart through no fault of his own. Like all good caper novels (and films), the books are suspenseful, but the unanticipated implosions are hilarious.

Occasionally, perhaps, too hilarious. One rush hour, I was reading Westlake's novel "Drowned Hopes" on the subway when a scene became so absurdly comic that I began to laugh. As it progressed, I became utterly incapable of controlling the laughter. Passengers began to back away, terrified that they had had the bad luck to be on the train with an obvious lunatic who might turn violent at any moment.

Westlake made several forays into screenwriting, too, most memorably adapting Jim Thompson's "The Grifters," directed by Stephen Frears, produced by Martin Scorcese, starring John Cusack, Anjelica Huston and Annette Benning. He wrote others, some of which were produced ("Cops and Robbers," "The Stepfather") and some of which were rewritten (including the James Bond film "Tomorrow Never Dies").

He liked working for Hollywood from time to time, but he didn't want to live there. And he didn't want to spend too much time writing screenplays, feeling that the novels were more important. The more films he turned down, it seemed, the more in demand he became.

The mystery-writing community, as well as everyone who knew Donald Westlake, mourns the passing of one of the most brilliant and original writers of his time -- the man to whom other professionals pointed with reverence and respect.

Victor Borge said that "Laughter is the shortest distance between two people." This is as good an explanation as any for why so many readers in every part of the world felt so close to Donald E. Westlake.

Mr. Penzler, the proprietor of the Mysterious Bookshop in New York, has edited "The Best American Mystery Stories of the Year" (Houghton Mifflin) since 1997.

Breckinridge Elkins
05-24-2009, 12:31 AM
Donald Westlake: Made in U.S.A.
Posted by Mark on Fri, Jan 9, 2009 at 11:30 AM

Today, Jean-Luc Godard's 1966 noir-pop fantasia Made in U.S.A. opens at Film Forum for a two-week run. Despite being made at the peak of Godard's
fame (and, arguably, creativity), this is the film's first — it's an unauthorized adaptation of the novel The Jugger, by American crime writer Donald Westlake, who blocked its release here. Westlake died on New Year's Eve, making this release a rather perfectly ironic tribute. The L's Cullen Gallagher writes about Westlake's work, his close ties to the world of film, and Godard's unfaithful but loving rendition of his book, below. (And here's Benjamin Strong's review of Made in U.S.A., from the current issue of the L.)

On New Year's Eve, Donald Westlake, alias Richard Stark, went to that big bank heist in the sky – the "one last score" you never return from. The 75-year-old Brooklyn-native and writer of more than 150 books (not to mention numerous short stories and screenplays) died of a heart attack while on vacation in Mexico. Born in 1933, Westlake was one of the last remnants of a bygone literary era. He may have attended several colleges, but he never graduated from any. And he certainly didn't learn writing from any "creative writing" class. Instead, he threw himself into the thriving pulp paperback market and began churning out novels at a rate that would scare many contemporary writers into an early retirement. He was a professional writer in every sense of the word, but also a master craftsman, and one of the most innovative crime writers of the 20th century.

Beginning in 1959, a steady stream of novels under various names began hitting shelves. The best, and best-known, were under Westlake's own name (particularly the John Dortmunder novels, beginning with the heist-caper The Hot Rock), and Richard Stark's, whose moniker was attached to a series of novels centered around a charmingly existential killer named Parker. The frequency with which both Westlake and Stark are adapted to film and television is an on-going testament to the popularity and longevity of the novels.



Since the 1960s, scarcely more than a few years go by without at least one adaptation of a book or story of Westlake's — many of them are French (no surprise, considering that country's ardent adoration of American crime fiction, preceding and surpassing our own appreciation for our artists).

Periodically, Westlake has written directly for the screen, either penning original scripts or adapting source material, most recently tackling Patricia Highsmith's Ripley Under Ground (2005). His rendition of Jim Thompson's The Grifters (1990) for director Stephen Frears is a masterpiece of adaptation. Capturing the sexual tensions and professional rivalries of a semi-incestuous mother-son-girlfriend trio of con artists is no easy task — most other attempts at adapting Thompson either border on parody or compromise his bleak vision. While many screenwriters and directors have approached Westlake's work, regrettably few have been as successfully faithful as Westlake's Grifters adaptation. Among the most famous of them is William Goldman and Peter Yates' version of The Hot Rock (1972) with Robert Redford, and while it's a little heavy on the goofy and light on the hardboiled, it still holds up.

The first of Stark's novels, 1962's The Hunter, was adapted to film twice — first by John Boorman as Point Blank (1967) with a deadpan Lee Marvin in the Parker role, and later by Brian Helgeland as Payback (1999) starring Mel Gibson. While Boorman's is a great film in its own right, it's certainly no model of fidelity. Stark's original story, about a double-crossed bank robber willing to take down "the syndicate" in order to reclaim his share of the loot, emphasizes notions of professionalism in both performance and ethics. Boorman turns the entire scenario into an Antonioni-like abstraction, in which every motivation and gesture is divested of any possible meaning. Payback, on the other hand, is embarrassing. It's an insult. The film is rife with noir-cliches that make the movie border on unintentional satire, most notably Gibson's schlocky voice-over and Chris Boardman's cringe-worthy wannabe-Elmer Bernstein score. Extraneous new plot twists ruin Stark's sleek, blunt narratives, and as for the attempts to add depth to Parker by making him sensitive, love-starved, and weak… Stark respects Parker, whereas neither Boorman nor Helgeland see him as anything but a mindless action hero.

The most surprising actor to take on Parker, however, is still the first: French New Wave icon Anna Karina in Jean-Luc Godard's Made in U.S.A. (1966). Made in U.S.A. is notoriously unfaithful to its source novel, but there are actually a surprising number of scenes that come directly from the book, suggesting that Godard actually read the entire thing (more than can been said about his King Lear). In fact, Karina comes closer than either Marvin or Gibson to nailing Parker's cold professionalism. Don't be fooled by her mod fashion — behind that block-pattern primary-colored dress is a gat just waiting pop you in the gut. Godard, of course, turns the novel into an abstract mélange of pop culture esoterica and political commentary. It's not Stark, but it's a hell of a good movie, nonetheless.

That Westlake/Stark could attract such a wide spectrum of filmmakers and interpretations is proof of their universal appeal. Like luminary crime writers Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler, Westlake broke down genre barriers and appealed to readers of all persuasions. Recently, Westlake has been in the news as much as ever. As we speak, another adaptation, The Stepfather, is currently in post-production. A new novel, Get Real, is also slated for publication this July. Just this past September, the University of Chicago Press began reprinting the entire Parker series. And that preserver of pulp, Hard Case Crime, has been reprinting several of Westlake's books: 361, Somebody Owes Me Money, Lemons Never Lie (as Stark), and The Cutie, which is set to come out in March. And then there's Rialto's release of Made In U.S.A., which will be on the lam, making its way around the country like so many of Westlake's criminals. We may have lost a great author, but we certainly haven't forgotten him — nor will we be likely to anytime soon.

http://www.thelmagazine.com/TheMeasure/archives/2009/01/09/donald-westlake-made-in-usa

Fissile
05-24-2009, 01:58 AM
I'm aghast. Donald Westlake is gone - died nearly six months ago (!) - yet somehow I didn't even know it until just now. How could I have possibly missed it? And yet I did.

RIP to one of the best-loved and least-celebrated Great American Writers. This absolutely sucks.

http://www.efanzines.com/EK/eI13/W0008C.jpg

Sometimes sucking is good. Why don't you join your hero by suck starting a 12 gauge?

il ragno
05-24-2009, 02:09 AM
Sometimes sucking is good.

So your mother tells me, every time she comes up for air.

Fissile
05-24-2009, 02:21 AM
So your mother tells me, every time she comes up for air.

I really doubt that you've ever had any lips applied to your member, since, as far I can tell, you do nothing all day but sit in your grandmother's rent controlled apartment, and post on internet forums.

BTW, how old is that freezer where you've got granny's corpse stored? Taking a big chance, aren't you. I mean, if the motor goes out, and granny defrosts, the stench will get the super's attention. After the landlord finds out that the leaseholder is dead, your rent is gonna get bumped up to market rate, and you'll have to move into the washing machine box at the curb.

O'Zebedee
05-24-2009, 02:43 AM
Stompski?

il ragno
05-24-2009, 02:48 AM
The fact that you periodically return here for the express purpose of trying to getting a reaction out of me - while I keep forgetting you even exist until you pop up again like a herpes sore - says it all about who has all the power in this relationship.

Hint: it ain't you.

Look: I'm truly sorry that the only person that ever showed you tenderness and affection was your parish priest, many years ago, and even he lost interest when you turned 12. But what am I supposed to do about that? Like I keep telling you: no, you may not suck my dick.

If you're that desperate for attention, just dab a little grape Kool-Aid on your eyelids, put on a halter top, and go hang around the waterfront after dark. C'mon, you've been in jail - you already know how this works.

gmork
05-24-2009, 03:05 AM
No, Westlake’s greatest achievement are his Dortmunder books – the “comic crime” novels he made his name with, which are built not just on farcical complications but on solidly-delineated character: Dortmunder and his motley band of fuckups are heroic thieves not because they’re thieves, but because they are fuckups - so flawed, so comically vulnerable – we see ourselves in them every step of the way.

I agree with just about everything said on the thread. Except this. I'm afraid I found the Dortmunder books predictable, unfunny and horribly dated. (I think the two or three I read were set in the 1970s.) Different strokes for different folks, I guess.

What's also kind of interesting is that Westlake wrote at least two novels as Richard Stark that did NOT feature Parker as the main character and I think may have only made passing mention of him. The Dame and The Damsel were the two I read, but a looong time ago. Grosfield was an irritating character, glib and wordy.

Funny that Lawrence Block got such a prominent mention in this thread. He created a very workable Parker mini-me in the Keller books, and an even more irritating version of Dortmunder as Bernie Rohdenbarr (sp?). You'd think Westlake might have raised an eyebrow once or twice over it...though, like I said, I enjoyed the Keller books (Hit Man, Hit List, Hit Parade,etc.) and also like the Matt Scudder stuff, though that seems to have gone downhill.

Fissile
05-24-2009, 03:05 AM
The fact that you periodically return here for the express purpose of trying to getting a reaction out of me - while I keep forgetting you even exist until you pop up again like a herpes sore - says it all about who has all the power in this relationship.

Hint: it ain't you.

Look: I'm truly sorry that the only person that ever showed you tenderness and affection was your parish priest, many years ago, and even he lost interest when you turned 12. But what am I supposed to do about that? Like I keep telling you: no, you may not suck my dick.

If you're that desperate for attention, just dab a little grape Kool-Aid on your eyelids, put on a halter top, and go hang around the waterfront after dark. C'mon, you've been in jail - you already know how this works.



The only power you have is the ability to molest my posts with your mod privileges -- just like you did on the Phora. You couldn't win the argument fair and square, so you defaulted to punk mode, which is what you are.

BTW, it doesn't surprise me that you're sucking the dead dick of a hack like Westlake. If you ever manage to grow into a real man, have a look at Chandler for some quality crime fiction.

il ragno
05-24-2009, 03:47 AM
The only power you have is the ability to molest my posts with your mod privileges -- just like you did on the Phora. You couldn't win the argument fair and square, so you defaulted to punk mode, which is what you are.

What "argument"? You mean those locker room ad hominem attacks that comprise your entire arsenal?

And who gives a shit about your hurt feelings? Cyberspace is crawling with third-rate shit talkers like you, your every drunken belch a pathetic cry for attention. You got nightsticked across the head and crawled off, seeing double with a ringing headache, to moan about the unfairness of it all somewhere else for a few months; nothing wrong with that. Molesting your posts worked a lot better than banning you - it kept the board Fissile-free for many months: proof positive that harsh measures work.


If you ever manage to grow into a real man, have a look at Chandler for some quality crime fiction.

That is some insightful stuff. "Chandler", you say? Wow....nobody else has ever come up with that guy's name in a discussion of crime fiction.

And where did you get the idea I don't like Chandler anyway? Wait, let me guess - because the thread is about somebody else. Therefore, I'm obviously dismissing everybody else who ever fed a clean sheet of typing bond into a Smith-Corona. Gee, you caught me.

I can see I was wrong about you. From now on I'm going to start calling you Professor Fissile.

Fissile
05-24-2009, 04:23 AM
What "argument"? You mean those locker room ad hominem attacks that comprise your entire arsenal?

And who gives a shit about your hurt feelings? Cyberspace is crawling with third-rate shit talkers like you, your every drunken belch a pathetic cry for attention. You got nightsticked across the head and crawled off, seeing double with a ringing headache, to moan about the unfairness of it all somewhere else for a few months; nothing wrong with that. Molesting your posts worked a lot better than banning you - it kept the board Fissile-free for many months: proof positive that harsh measures work.


Careful not to dislocate your shoulder while patting yourself on the back. The reason the board is "Fissile-free" for months at a time is because FISSILE HAS A REAL LIFE THAT CONSISTS OF DUTIES, ACTIVITIES AND INTERESTS THAT ARE NOT COMPUTER FORUM BASED. I'm sure that it's a difficult concept for a "man", like you, who has THOUSANDS of posts, on DOZENS of internet forums, to comprehend. Here's some advice for you if you ever manage to crawl out of your personal fuhrer bunker: Wear welding goggles and sunscreen with a SPF 5000 rating -- even Dracula gets more sun than you apparently do.








That is some insightful stuff. "Chandler", you say? Wow....nobody else has ever come up with that guy's name in a discussion of crime fiction.

And where did you get the idea I don't like Chandler anyway? Wait, let me guess - because the thread is about somebody else. Therefore, I'm obviously dismissing everybody else who ever fed a clean sheet of typing bond into a Smith-Corona. Gee, you caught me.

I can see I was wrong about you. From now on I'm going to start calling you Professor Fissile.

No, it's because this particular somebody else is a second rate hack whose admirers consist mainly of failed community college English instructors -- such as yourself.

SteamshipTime
05-24-2009, 04:38 AM
If you ever manage to grow into a real man, have a look at Chandler for some quality crime fiction.

Who the fuck are you? Chandler's fairy god-mother?

Fissile
05-24-2009, 04:41 AM
Who the fuck are you? Chandler's fairy god-mother?

Who are you? il Fag's fairy closet queen?

SteamshipTime
05-24-2009, 04:46 AM
Hey chief. Just wondering what sort of dog you got in the fight of who's the better crime fiction writer: Westlake or Chandler.

I mean, hell, when it comes down to Westlake vs. Chandler, we're just all on the edge of our fucking seats out here.

il ragno
05-24-2009, 04:51 AM
Here's some advice for you if you ever manage to crawl out of your personal fuhrer bunker: Wear welding goggles and sunscreen with a SPF 5000 rating -- even Dracula gets more sun than you apparently do.

Well, if I'm ever at the park and I see a guy with a harelip and a unibrow sullenly stabbing and bagging trash who's not dressed in an orange jumpsuit, I'll wave you over and say hi. Assuming you won't get in career trouble for fraternizing with "normals".


FISSILE HAS A REAL LIFE THAT CONSISTS OF DUTIES, ACTIVITIES AND INTERESTS THAT ARE NOT COMPUTER FORUM BASED.

Yes, yes - of course you do. All-caps denote how important a man you are, too.

Anyway, I'll tell you what your family tells you ....write if you get work, asshole. Unlike them, I won't spit on the floor immediately after saying it.

I'm sure that it's a difficult concept for a "man", like you, who has THOUSANDS of posts, on DOZENS of internet forums, to comprehend.

Oh, my....this wheezing old routine again. Look, Einsteinovic - "thousands" of posts, on two boards, over 7 or 8 years....it isn't all that much. Honestly.

No, it's because this particular somebody else is a second rate hack whose admirers consist mainly of failed community college English instructors -- such as yourself.

As opposed to PR flacks for Stompski, Serbian Hulk. You can tell they're really really smart by the goat-meat stains on their Raymond Chandler paperbacks. Who, of course, you have to be A Real Man to read.

somthing else
05-24-2009, 12:46 PM
Here's some advice for you if you ever manage to crawl out of your personal fuhrer bunker: Wear welding goggles and sunscreen with a SPF 5000 rating -- even Dracula gets more sun than you apparently do.








.:bbsucks:

Macrobius
05-24-2009, 03:19 PM
So your mother tells me, every time she comes up for air.

Fissile's mother is Flipper?? That does explain a lot, actually....

bardamu
05-24-2009, 04:28 PM
Ah the Ragno Fissile wars have turned hot again.

DudleySmith
05-24-2009, 08:04 PM
Is it Beat Up On Eyetallyuns Week here or something?

In any case, some of these book critics take these pulps way too seriously; they're just for grins and escapism, not fucking documentaries and real life bios on how to be a really 'iconoclastic' dysfunctional neurotic.

The later pulps, beginning in the late 70ishes or so onwards, are much better, IMHO. Stephen Hunter, Fredrick Forsyth, Robert Parker, James Elroy, John Grisham, James Patterson etc., etc., are heads above many of the old favorites in writing quality and story lines. The Godfather is a pulp novel, after all.

il ragno
05-25-2009, 07:47 AM
Is it Beat Up On Eyetallyuns Week here or something?

In any case, some of these book critics take these pulps way too seriously; they're just for grins and escapism, not fucking documentaries and real life bios on how to be a really 'iconoclastic' dysfunctional neurotic.

The later pulps, beginning in the late 70ishes or so onwards, are much better, IMHO. Stephen Hunter, Fredrick Forsyth, Robert Parker, James Elroy, John Grisham, James Patterson etc., etc., are heads above many of the old favorites in writing quality and story lines. The Godfather is a pulp novel, after all.

Well, none of them are ever referred to as pulps. For one thing, the advances those guys get have a few more zeroes added on, which allows for a 180-page book to be 'expanded' to 500. They're just as much for grins and escapism as your low-rent paperback original - they just have twice as many subplots.

It comes down to storytelling in the final analysis, not prestige or critics' cover blurbs. I find Hunter kind of intolerable, to be honest; Ellroy to be awfully juvenile (though very entertaining - and talk about "real life bios on how to be a really 'iconoclastic' dysfunctional neurotic"!); and Parker insufferably politically-correct. Forsyth is probably the best writer of that bunch.