Customer Reviews

Pick-up

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***½ Pick-up by Charles Willeford

Ever open up the paper and read a reported story -- not more than a column long -- about a crime, or near-crime, of tabloid interest, that you know has more involved details than what is reported? This is a book that could be based on one of those true-life experiences, deserving of more than a cursory reporting in the paper.

This is a psychological tale with a thriller's edge and a suggestion of criminality. The story centers on two seemingly blue-collared alcoholics attempting to find validity in lives that once promised and should mean and hold something more. As any good noir fiction, this is a story about an attempt to find a connection, with another like-minded individual, which comes close but ultimately fails. And of course, as any good noir fiction, it deals with a connection, which could have worked, if not for unfortunate and ill-fated timing.

The central character, Harry Jordan, if not admirable, is likeable and identifiable as a man who has not succeeded in failing; although, he has fallen markedly short of his own expectations. Jordan is an over-qualified greasy spoon counter-man, who has a surprising artistic pedigree. By happenstance, he meets Helen, who is a blueblood scion cum alcoholic attempting to escape herself and her heredity in each new town she encounters. Initially, the couple finds commonality in their mutual and separate love for alcohol.

How can two people who have so thoroughly disappointed themselves, join together and succeed as a couple - that is the obstacle faced by Harry and Helen. The suspense lies in whether they, as a couple, can salvage the remainder of their lives together. The fate of their love is pre-ordained. The mystery is how they ended-up at this level in the first place.

The unraveling of the relationship of Harry and Helen is secondary to the development of the back-story, illuminating the circumstances that allowed them to meet in the first place. The ending is not a surprise development, as much as a surprise detail, which forces you to re-examine all previous thoughts and conclusions arising from the psychology of the drama.

This is the 3rd Willeford book (Burnt Orange Heresy and The Woman Chaser) I have read, and on each occasion, I have been most impressed by Willeford's creative story telling. Unlike even the best noir writers, Willeford's books are not the product of a effectively patterned brand of story-telling; rather, each novel tries a new approach at telling another unusually rare tale. In most respects, the storyline of Pick-up is fairly straight forward with little plot elevation; Willeford's devil is in the details behind the story. Willeford is not only expert in developing the details of his characters' lives, but conveying his personal expertise on a wide variety of circumstances, topics, and subjects - most notably art. As a novel, you may be easily forget the particulars of Pick-up's plot, but you will not be able to leave it without feeling as you have learned something about the human condition.

** As an aside, I would personally recommend the Black Lizard edition of this book if it can be found and is available for a reasonable price. For my money, the Black Lizard edition of this book is a work of art in itself. The cover is noir photography at its finest, and the print format is exceedingly readable. For me, the edition itself is a collectible, not to mention Willeford's novels themselves are becoming increasingly harder to locate.

This is another strangely absorbing novel from a unique writer. In his later works, Charles Willeford seemed to view the world as greedier and more desperate, and society seemed to be falling apart. He used sardonic humor to chronicle the desperation of various unsavory characters, and no one appears to be uninfected by ulterior motives. Disturbing scenes of sex and violence occupy more pages. The earlier work Pick Up takes place in a much kinder world. People are more civil to each other, and not everybody has a hidden agenda. The main character in this book, Harry Jordan, wishes to die, but he is so passive and ineffectual that his best hope of achieving it turns out to be a possibility of execution by the state when he is arrested for the death of his woman companion. In Willeford's hands, the prison where Jordan awaits trial resembles a well-run three-star hotel. Jordan is given a single room, which he describes as being quiet (there seem to be no other inmates in this facility), food is good, and there is a jailer who performs like a competent hall porter, providing Jordan with various amenities to make his stay pleasant. In one scene, Jordan finds his street clothes have been returned to him laundered, with his shirt in cellophane. Law-enforcement personnel are depicted as bent only on serving justice, contrary to the image accorded them in today's news reports and fiction. Although I lived during this time, the world didn't seem quite so benevolent. I read this book with more amazement at its sociological point of view than with interest for its characters, whose self-destructive aspirations seemed more affectation or the product of mental illness than the logical result of social forces or personal inadequacy.

This is first class willeford all the way. He gnaws down to the marrow of the bone of the downtrodden people on the edge of the universe. Absorbing, passionate and brutal.

This book is a must read for Charles Willeford fans. This dark and disturbing book of alcohol abuse and personal tragedy is as poignant today as it was first published in the 50's. There are very few Willeford books in print today; get your hands on a copy of the Pick-Up before it is too late.

Don't miss this one. This absurdist noir story is from 1955, but it's amazing how it resonates today. There is absolutely no one like Willeford. I'm finding that his early "pulp" works like this one are just as profound and meaningful as his later "successful" books.

The fun thing for Willeford readers is going through the abundance of published work over four decades. The man was amazingly prolific. Some of his earlier books have been re-printed; some are hard to find.

Willeford is the boss!

As another reviewer said, the Black Lizard edition of Pick-Up is beautifully put together, from the easy-to-read typeface to the gorgeous cover art and design, but for all its hype, Pick-Up feels like an inferior version of John Fante's Ask the Dust (P.S.) (my favorite novel). Pick-Up is good but not great; it's bleak but not bleak enough in its depiction of a desperate, down-and-out love affair between two unstable alcoholics who can't live with or without each other. Just about anything by David Goodis (the master of despair) is bigger, badder and bleaker than this. It does have a few Jim Thompson like moments of brutal, unpredictable violence but lacks the overall mean-spirited fun and psychotic suspense of that author. There is a throwaway "shock-twist-surprise" ending (or what must have passed for it in the 1950s) that had me scratching my head instead. First off, because it is no big deal when viewed through modern eyes and, second, even if you take it in the context of the time period in which it was written, while controversial, it just did not seem to tie in that well with anything that came before it except for one quick scene with the psychiatrist that made me understand why he asked a particular question that seemed bizarre at the time. The book also fails to deliver in the sleaze department, a fact I found odd, since it was originally written for 1950s smut paperback powerhouse, Beacon Books, to which Willeford also contributed Wild Wives/High Priest of California. Grumbles aside, I still enjoyed the book but it is a lesser work when compared to Willeford's later novels like The Woman Chaser (1960), (Miami Blues and Sideswipe: A Hoke Moseley Detective Thriller. If you are new to Willeford, I would recommend reading those first and working your way back to this.

This is the only Charles Willeford book that I have read, and I must say that the writing is terrific! The narrative is very involving and descriptive. I only have two problems with the book. The story is very depressing, but I guess that's part of the plot so I shouldn't complain. My other problem is that the book is too short.

Having read a handful of Willeford's later novels, I was curious to discover what his novels from the 50's were like. If "The Pick-Up" is in any way typical of his work from this period, then they are all very noir and almost hysterically downbeat. The "Pick-Up" documents the love-affair of two alcoholic losers who are so hopeless that they decide to commit suicide fifty pages through the novel. They don't succeed. This and other sordid incidents comprise the book's "plot", all culminating in a surprise ending that has lost its shock value in recent years and doesn't add too much to the book's meaning. I still recommend it, especially if you enjoy wallowing in the grimier aspects of human existence. Favorite passage: "She let her hair go uncombed. She skipped wearing her stockings. Her voice was slightly louder and she seemed to be getting deaf in one ear. We never made love any more."

In the course of a very interesting and experience rich life, Charles Willeford wrote many works of fiction. I've read most of the ones that are available to the general public and have been very impressed by his writing. Iconoclastic, original, unflinching, unsentimental and nonjudgemental are just a few of the adjectives I would use to describe Willeford's very distinctive brand of story telling. Pick-Up is no exception. But this is a very strange book even for Willeford.
I think the strangeness derives from the fact that Pick-Up is really two different books contained within a single cover. The first half describes in raw, realistic detail the hopeless, despairing and desperate, lives of a man and a woman, both alcoholics, barely surviving in post World War II San Francisco. Hard hitting and unapologetic, this is the best part of Pick-Up.
Then, about half way through, a completely different novel emerges. The second half of the book consists of one man's account of his first hand experience with the criminal justice system. And by that I mean jail, the courts and forensic psychiatry. Except that the criminal justice system as described here bears little resemblance to any such system found in the United States or anyplace else. People, places and events in this part of the book are presented in a surrealistic fashion. A jarring departure from the book's very authentic first half.
Also, the ironic humor which characterizes most of Willeford's other novels is missing from this work. I say that not as a criticism but rather as a warning to potential readers who, seeing Willeford's name on the cover, may be expecting some good laughs. No, Pick-Up is not that kind of book. Humor would definitely be out of place.
Fans of Charles Willeford will enjoy this book, as I did. People who are not yet familiar with his work would be better served by first reading a few of his other novels and the short stories contained in The Machine in Ward Eleven. It's easier to appreciate Pick-Up by being able to view it in context, as part of Willeford's overall literary output.

Although the book is well written, Willeford is not really suited to writing about pure losers. he does much better with con men, cops and obssessives.