The
third was the blond...She had a full set of curves which nobody
had been able to improve on. The dress was rather plain except
for a clasp of diamonds at the throat. Her hands were not small,
but they had shape, and the nails were the usual jarring note
- almost magenta. She was giving me one of her smiles...and her
mouth was sensual.
This
image of Velma Grayle in Chandler's novel Farewell My Lovely
is that of the archetypal femme
fatale. Made into an iconographical figure by 1940's film noir
the femme fatale is easy to spot in both novels and films alike.
In her article, Women in
Film Noir Janey Place lists a number of symbols that feature in
the design of this character:
The
iconography is explicitly sexual, and often explicitly violent
as well: long hair (blond or dark), make-up, and jewellery. Cigarettes
with their wispy trails of smoke can become cues of dark and immoral
sensuality, and the iconography of violence (primarily guns) is
a specific symbol...of her 'unnatural' phallic power. (Place,
54)
A character
often found playing opposite the femme fatale is the 'good woman'
or as Place describes her, 'the nurturing woman'(60).
In The Maltese Falcon Sam
Spade is 'nurtured' by Effie Perine who is not only 'on call' to
Sam's every need twenty four hours of the day, but also appears
to accept being treated like a puppy.
He
put a finger on the tip of Effie Perine's nose and flattened it.
He put his hands under her elbows, lifted her straight up, and
kissed her chin. He set her down on the floor again and asked:
Anything doing while I was gone? (140)
But
what of those writers who included women in their texts that do
not fit either of the above types? Within this genre there
are female characters that do not fit into the frame, who are perhaps
marginalized, not by their creators but by their lack of stereotypical
features. This paper will examine the representation of women in
one of the most powerful and best-known David Goodis novels,
Shoot the Piano Player (1956,
originally published as Down There), asking whether Goodis uses his female characters in ways that run counter
to the accepted image of the femme fatale and her opposite, the
'good' woman. It will concentrate on three questions. First,
how effective are the 'noir' elements of the novel without the inclusion
of the stereotypical femme fatale? Second, what particular
emphasis is placed upon the themes that Goodis explores in this
novel by using a different expression of the female? Third, how
does the Francois Truffaut film of Goodis's novel deal with the
female characters in terms of visual effect, and contribution to
the plot? In order to answer these questions the novel will be considered
in terms of a close textual analysis, in conjunction with critics'
ideas of the representation of women in the novel. Finally, the
film will be discussed in relation to the novel, with a view to
establishing whether or not there is a difference in the way in
which women are represented in film noir.
Geoffrey
O'Brien in his book Hardboiled America
(1997) suggests that many of David Goodis's novels have two types
of women: 'One of them a frail ghostly alcoholic haunted by
unrealisable dreams (let us call her Type A), the other (Type B)
a fat, rough-tongued, hard-drinking (and hard-fighting) woman'(92).
From the examples of paperback covers shown in O'Brien's book (88-9)
one could reach a similar conclusion. Goodis is a writer who has
used the accepted noir formula of the male protagonist torn between the woman he desires and
the woman who stands in the way of that desire to good effect in
a great many popular novels. Goodis might be said to start
with conceptions of female characters who at first appear to be
typical representations of certain types. He then takes these types and expands them beyond the rather limited
boundaries that surround them - in Shoot the Piano Player,
for example, broadening and developing the character of Lena
beyond that of a quiet waitress, in order to provide an image that
stands in apparent contrast to that of the protagonist, Eddie.
Contrary
to O'Brien's argument, it is difficult to find Type A and Type B
women in Shoot the Piano Player.
At first, Harriet, the feisty bar owner appears to be Type B:
She
was a very fat woman in her middle forties. She had peroxide blonde
hair, a huge jutting bosom and tremendous hips...the eyes gray
-blue with a certain level look that said, You deal with me, you
deal straight...Get cut or cagey and you'll wind up buying new
teeth. (10)
However,
contrary to the paradigm suggested by O'Brien, Harriet does not
pose a threat to the hero Eddie: certainly she does not appear
to be, for Eddie, an object of desire. Similarly, Lena's initial
description would seem to bear little relation to Type A. Goodis
approaches the description of Lena in a seductive manner, letting
out small pieces of information as if to tantalise his audience.
The first images we glean is that she is a brunette, 'wants
no part of any man' and uses a hat pin to defend herself against
unwanted advances from the customers (13). Next, we learn
that Plyne the bouncer has a soft spot for her (14). Finally,
Eddie gets a good look at her after she asks him for a small amount
of money so that she can buy some food. Through Eddie's eyes, the
reader is given a rather biased account of her height (tall), weight
(slim), face (not pretty enough for modelling) and skin (clear)
(30). Despite these details, the questions that Eddie asks
himself are concerned with her personality, which is hardly enigmatic;
yet in some way Eddie feels drawn to her, to find the answers to
his questions:
But why is it she never has much to say? And hardly ever smiles?
Come to think
of it, she's strictly on the solemn side. Not dreary, really.
It's just that she's serious-solemn, and yet you've seen her laugh,
she'll laugh at something that's comical. (31)
There
is little of the 'frail ghostly alcoholic' in this description and
therefore I think it is fair to say that in the representations
of women in this novel Goodis does not follow any particular formula.
Instead, I would like to suggest that one way of reading the character
of Lena is as another part of Eddie's character; not so much the
female side but rather the complex, emotional part of the male character.
There are several facts that have led me to this conclusion.
To begin with, both Harriet and Eddie tell the reader that Lena
is not interested in men, and will physically defend herself from
having anything to do with them. We already know that she is described
as being tall and slim, not fragile (30). These physical descriptions
could be read as an attempt by Goodis to masculinise Lena. Eddie
spends a lot of time pondering Lena's motivations. It might be suggested
that, rather than Lena being used mainly for the 'love interest'
in the novel, Goodis uses her character in order to examine Eddie's emotions and feelings. Lena is the person that gives
the reader the opportunity to hear Eddie's past; without her in
this story, Eddie would have no past existence. She encourages him
to relive the sad tale that leads him to the present. Finally and
perhaps most importantly, it is Lena that is successful in the novel
in everything that she does for Eddie. She has a sense of power
and capability that is generally reserved for the male characters
in fiction.
Shoot
the Piano Player was written
in the fifties when women had yet to begin the fight for their equality.
Goodis, however, is not known for creating capable heroes.
Geoffrey O'Brien sums Goodis's characterisation up neatly: '[He]
did convey that anguish, the anguish of his characters' distance
from reality. His hero is a frightened, lonely, unworldly, often
alcoholic man....He walks the streets and never meets a friend'(91).
Whilst Eddie is a passive character moving unobtrusively through
the novel, Lena plays a more active role, rescuing him twice in
reasonably dramatic circumstances. When she appears the second time
to take him back to Philadelphia, Eddie pictures her, not in romantic
terms, but rather 'like a company commander'(148). At the
end of the novel Lena is assigned a ghostly image as Eddie realises
he did not know anything about her:
[He]
didn't know her last name. They wanted to know if there was anything
more. He said that was all he knew, that she'd never told him
about herself... Just before he walked out, he asked if they'd
found where she lived in Philadelphia... They were somewhat perplexed
that he hadn't even known the address. (156)
In
Truffaut's 1962 film, more emphasis is placed on Lena as the main
female attraction for Charlie (Eddie in the novel). Some dialogue
suggests that Lena is less feminine than her appearance would suggest.
The character of Plyne, the bouncer, says, 'she's not a girl, she's
not a woman.' In addition, she wears similar clothes to those of
Charlie, especially her coat, which, when they walk side-by-side,
gives the impression that they are two halves of a whole person.
There is little further evidence to show that this Lena is the 'emotional'
side of the protagonist. Nevertheless, she still appears
to be very tough and rather enigmatic, particularly during the scene
in which the couple are walking through the streets, and she disappears
whilst Charlie is thinking. In a similar approach to that
of the novel, Lena leads the action in the film and as a result
has an equal share of the frame to Charlie in many scenes. Whilst
there is a lot of movement in the film; for example, people are
filmed walking the streets whilst talking and there is much dialogue
during the driving of cars; there is also a lot of silence,
especially when Lena is in the frame. This highlights the point
made earlier that Lena has a ghostliness to her. She has a visually
spectacular death, running through the forest and then, having been
shot, tumbling through the snow. When Charlie finds her, she is
already half buried. This is a dramatic scene but it is accompanied
by silence and the snow gives the added effect of deadening the
sound even more. This is an excellent example of a typical noir
feature, which reinforces the idea in the novel that Lena had a
transient role to play.
The
character of Lena, then, does not fit well into any of the critical
frameworks surrounding the role of women in noir texts and films.
In James Maxfield's terms, she does not appear to dominate or confuse
Eddie (Charlie) into defence or submission. Instead she is
complementary to him and represents a part of the male
personality that is rarely seen in a Goodis protagonist, that of
a capable, hopeful person. She does not prove to be fatal
for Eddie who returns to his (non) existence unchanged but alive.
She is neither the femme fatale nor the redemptive woman of Janey
Place's article. Moreover, she does not fit well into Geoffrey O'Brien's
Type A or Type B. It could be suggested that by developing the character
of Lena in such a way, Goodis makes an attempt to write outside
the frame, perhaps in order to produce a different effect
to that of the traditional noir thriller. Lee Horsley suggests that,
instead of writing within the stereotype, novelists in the
1950s were able to create women who are 'strong female figures who,
though sexual, are admirable and/or indomitable' (Noir
Thriller, 130). In film,
however, there were more restrictions due to the Hays Production
Code and, as Horsley points out, film makers did not have as much
freedom to develop their female characters: in other words
punishment had to be seen to be meted out to those characters (especially
women) who transgressed in any way. In Truffaut's film, Lena
has a visually dramatic death that would seem in keeping with the
expectations of conventional film noir.
I began
by establishing that within noir traditions there are female stereotypes
in both novels and films. Many critics agree that the iconography
of the 'femme fatale' and the 'good woman' play a large part in
both noir thriller and film noir. In its discussion of Shoot the Piano
Player, this essay has
considered one example of the way in which a key mid-century noir
writer created female characters that did not rely on the usual
stereotypes. Goodis's main female character can be seen to
have added to the noir elements of the text and the film as well,
augmenting both themes and characterisation. Lena, particularly
in the novel, can be seen to represent the emotional side of Eddie.
Although in the film Lena is presented as somewhat more feminine
(and arguably is thereby marginalized), she retains that ghostly
presence that is implicitly suggested in the novel and that contributes
to the idea that she is the part of Eddie that he finds difficult
to access. By writing against stereotype, Goodis has, then,
provided another dimension to his work, reinforcing the noir
sense of the divided identity and the male crisis of identity.
Chandler,
R. Farewell My Lovely. [1940] Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1949
Goodis,
David. Shoot the Piano Player. [1956] New York: First Vintage Crime, 1990
Hammett,
D. The Maltese Falcon.[1930] London: Pan Books Ltd, 1975
Horsley,
K. & Horsley, L. 'Meres Fatales: Maternal Guilt in the Noir
Crime Novel'. MFS Modern Fiction Studies. 45 (2), 1999.
Horsley,
L. The Noir Thriller. Palgrave 2001.
Maxfield,
J. The Fatal Woman: Sources of Male Anxiety in American Film
Noir:1941-1991. London:
Associated University Press, 1996
O'Brien,
G. Hardboiled America. New York: Da Capo Press, 1997.
Place,
J. 'Women in Film Noir'. In: Kaplan, E. Ann. (ed) Women in Film
Noir. London: British Film Institute,
1998
Schrader,
Paul. 'Notes on Film Noir'. In Barton-Palmer,R. Perspectives
on Film Noir New York: G K Hall
and Son, 1996.
Shoot
the Piano Player. Directed by Francois Truffaut. 1960. Films de la Pleiade.
Zizek,
S. Looking Awry: An Introduction to Lacan through Popular Culture.
Cambridge: MIT, 1991.
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