Jim Thompson, "Pop. 1280" (1964).

One major advantage of going to the library is that the selection is generally so broad that I can get the best books of any single author that I am interested in. All I have to do is a quick internet search to find out what works are most recommended. This is especially helpful in cases where a writer is prolific and has an uneven output. It's too easy to pick up something just because it's convenient, only to find that it doesn't suit your interests. I had been in the habit of going to Half Priced Books. I'd scan the shelves for books written by someone I'd heard good things about, and grab whatever was available. It was a cheap method of putting together a reading list, but unfortunately the stuff in stock was not often the best representation of the author.

Such was the case with Jim Thompson. I first discovered his work when a friend lent me The Killer Inside Me (1952). Although this title is often listed among his best books, I found it sort of juvenile and cliche. Perhaps I would have felt differently had I read it around the time of its original release. Nevertheless I don't think it held up very well, and I felt justified in ignoring Thompson for awhile. So I hadn't considered returning to his work until I saw a film dramatization of one of his memoirs. I decided to give the source material a try, and was moderately impressed. I thought that maybe I had simply gotten an unsatisfying introduction to Thompson. Recently I compiled a short list of his fiction to track down.

Pop. 1280 introduces the reader to sheriff Nick Corey, who seems like a nice enough guy, if a bit of a rube. His job is to keep tabs on the small population (see title) of Pottsville County, the most modest territory in the (unidentified Southern) state. Although crime in his jurisdiction is minimal, Nick has his hands full. There are two pimps down by the river "sassin' him". He's got to stand for re-election. And he has domestic issues. In order to resolve the first situation, he decides to pay a visit with a neighboring lawman that he considers a friend. Unfortunately Ken Lacey has the tendency to dole out just as much abuse as advice to his "friends". It's hard to understand why Nick suffers him with such patience. Of course all will be revealed in time.

Meanwhile Nick has got to find a way to make an end run around his harpy of a wife (Myra) and her idiot brother (Lenny). Our hero is a bit of a ladies' man, and he's cookin' up a few dishes on the side. One of his regular bedmates is "best friends" with Myra, and has a truculent husband to boot. That needs dealin' with. And then there's Amy, who Nick had planned to marry before he got bamboozled into connubial hell with Myra. Amy is about the only honest character in the whole book, and that quality presents its own set of problems for good ol' Nick. As "aw shucks" as Nick seems, it turns out that he's not nearly as easy going as the town-folks imagine. Hell, that's the very reason he's been able to hold on to his position as long as he has.

At the very core of his being, Nick is a lot different than he appears. His exterior is precisely cultivated to make him appear innocuous. The best way to beat your enemy is to get him to underestimate you, and Nick is an expert at this. This penchant for subtle irony is the source of much dark humor in the book. Thompson brings the reader along at his own Southern-born pace. It takes awhile for you to get your bearings, and only then do you know what you are really looking at. I was genuinely shocked at the depth lurking beneath Nick and his story. Pop. 1280
excellently illustrates why the often overlooked Thompson garnered such admiration from other authors. Like Nick Corey himself, there's a lot more there than one would ever expect.

Jim Thompson, "Roughneck" (1954).

Jim Thompson was an interesting figure in American literature. He was primarily known as an artist of hard-boiled crime fiction. During his lifetime he wrote more than thirty novels, many of which were published by pulp fiction publishers. Although he only received a little critical attention during his lifetime, he has subsequently been lauded as one of the best writers within his genre. His more refined writing incorporated surrealism and unconventional plot devices that elevated his best work to the status of literature. In fact, many contemporary authors and filmmakers have gone public with their appreciation of his output. Robert Redford, Harlan Ellison, Stephen King and the directors Stanley Kubrick, Sam fuller, Stephen Frears and Steven Shainberg are among the many cultural celebrities who are on record as being Jim Thompson fans.

Thompson was born in Indian Territory (Oklahoma) in 1906. His father was a county sheriff who was forced to leave office due to rumors of embezzlement. While his family lived a nomadic existence, Thompson developed a reputation as a hustler at a young age. One of his first jobs was working as a bellhop in a hotel, where he supplemented his income by trading in bootleg liquor during the prohibition era. This time in his life is documented in the entertaining memoir Bad Boy, and was adapted by Shainberg for his 1996 feature Hit Me. His truck with underworld figures and petty criminals left him plenty of material for the stories he was submitting to a variety of true crime magazines.

Later on he would become an oil field laborer, and then the head of the Oklahoma Federal Writers Project ( a position created as part of Franklin Delano Roosevelt's depression-era New Deal programs). During World War II he worked at an aircraft factory where he was eventually investigated for a brief flirtation with the Communist Party. Out of this experience came the fodder for his first novel, Now and on Earth (1942). Subsequent works became progressively violent and dark, and Thompson slowly built a following. Eventually though, having become frustrated by his lack of commercial success, he turned to writing television programs and novelizations in Los Angeles. He died of a stroke at the age of 71, his health ravaged by alcoholism.

Roughneck picks up where Bad Boy leaves off. It finds Thompson entering the struggles of young adulthood in the rough economic climate of the 1930's. He got married young, but had difficulties finding work to support his wife and child. His memoir chronicles his desperate search for legitimate employment. It tells of his associations with various shady characters, who lure him into schemes and con games. At one point he gets a job as a strong-arm collector for an installment shop that caters to clients with extremely bad credit. Thompson's deep humanity and affinity for the underdog shine most strongly in this account. In the midst of tramping around the country looking for sustenance, he never abandons his dreams to write great books. Unfortunately his family often pays the cost of his determination.

The stories of Thomspon's hardships are often funny, but contain a hint of deep pathos about the cold, implacable nature of life. His tale of trying to extract a derelict oil pipe from a backwoods site dramatizes the almost epic battle between intention and fate. His attempts to negotiate the bureaucracy of the Works Project Administration and write a history of the unions underscores the often unavoidable futility of honest effort. Even his modest bid for domestic comfort seems doomed to failure. Thompson finally finds himself in the position to buy a house for his clan only to discover the structure infested by bedbugs and centipedes. Despite the essentially bleak outlook and the rather scattered narrative, Roughneck is an illustrative reminder of just how tough it has been (and can yet be) to make it in the USA.