Even bad books have their charms.
Last night I read such a book
the title of which I shall not mention
nor will I name the book's author
who thinks that at the end of "Dark Passage"
Bogart wears a white dinner jacket as in "Casablanca"
and that Loretta Young's father in "The Stranger"
is the president of the college where Orson Welles teaches
when in fact the dad is a Supreme Court justice
and Mr. Welles as the Nazi without a German accent
teaches at a prep school
and as for "Detour" the author doesn't get the point
that it's a study in the unreliable narratorwhile "Double Indemnity," in the writer's opinion,
is only so-so because both Stanwyck and MacMurray
lack sex appeal, ha, and, too, the author likens Dana Andrews
to a baseball player who got to the majors only because
Ted Williams and co are fighting the second World War
I could go on but why should I
when I enjoyed reading the book even despite the irritating
use of "creep" and "milquetoast" just because
I love noir and so does the author so all sins
are forgiven losses are restored and sorrows end
