The Maltese Falcon

The only entertainment gained from reading this “classic” from Dashiell Hammett is following along the SF streets as he zips around Sutter, Kearny, Post, Geary, 9th Avenue. He’s credited with inventing the whole genre of hard-boiled detective fiction, by which I guess means tough guys who snarl at ladies who are swooningly in love with them. One particularly laughable moment in the Falcon comes when all the characters are penned up in Sam Spade’s apartment and he nonchalantly gets the woman, Brigid, to rustle up some coffee and food for his “guests.” I’m obviously not a fan of Hammett’s writing, preferring the higher skills of Raymond Chandler any day of the week. However, after living in SF for 20 years, I felt obligated to knock this off my list.