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This outstanding novel is about the relationship of Harry Jordan with Helen Meredith, whom he meets at a bar. She moves in with him, and their relationship begins on a high note. But as time goes by, it appears that Helen is an incurable alcoholic. Harry drinks, too, but he is more functional and marginally able to hold down simple jobs.
32 year old Harry is a server at Benny’s cafe in Chicago, but seems to have a different job every few weeks. He is a veteran of the war, and at one time a painter with some potential.
The novel opens..

It must have been around a quarter to eleven. A sailor came in and ordered a chile dog and coffee. I sliced a bun jerked a frank out of the boiling water, nested it, poured a half-dipper of chile over the frank and sprinkled it liberally with chopped onions. I scribbled a check and put it by his plate. I wouldn't have recommended the unpalatable mess to a starving animal. The sailor was the only customer, and after he ate his dog he left.
That was the exact moment she entered..

Helen is 33 years old, separate for the last ten years from her husband, and a recent graduate of college in geology, a three year course done with while living with her mother.
These are two wonderfully drawn characters.

Before I read this, I had seen it highly praised by sources I respect. But this really isn’t the novel I thought it was going to be, and I guess many readers may experience the same sentiment. I expect this was a major influence on the writing of Willy Vlautin; the first half was just like reading his work.
The second half is less classic noir, more police procedural, but Willeford keeps the best until the very last page, and it’s only then that the reader can look back and fully appreciate the whole thing.
This isn’t Willeford writing with the humour he often does, but at his darkest, and for me at least, his best work.