Review by C.J. Bunce
When the clock tolled at midnight on New Year’s Eve, Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon entered the public domain, and Max Allan Collins was ready. Tomorrow the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master’s sequel Return of the Maltese Falcon arrives in bookstores everywhere. It will come as no surprise to fans of Collins–the author of Road to Perdition, the Quarry and Nolan series of crime novels, and co-author of an entire line of Mickey Spillane Mike Hammer novels–that he was the right author for the task. The novel is a worthy, even definitive continuation of the saga of the most famous MacGuffin in crime fiction. It’s also one of the best Collins reads (and maybe the best), delivering familiar characters and clever throwbacks while adding his own subtle humor and a third act full of twists and an ending so satisfying that it could garner another Edgar Award.
I read Hammett’s novel and Collins’ sequel back-to-back (check out my review of The Maltese Falcon last week here) and believe fans of Hammett will not find many style differences. You can pre-order Return of the Maltese Falcon in its first hardcover edition from publisher Hard Case Crime here at Amazon.
Let’s dig into the further adventures of Sam Spade.
Sam and Effie. Collins’ best writing features two characters he enjoys engaged in banter that clips along like a dance of words. Collins applies that here with the original hard-boiled detective Sam Spade and his office assistant, original “girl Friday” Effie Perine. As in Hammett’s novel, Collins doesn’t have Sam overly flirtacious with Effie. If a “will they/won’t they” is in the subtext of the original, it’s barely at the surface, as Hammett’s writing is a bit cold and stilted. Any sequel to The Maltese Falcon could have gone several routes. When reading Hammett’s story I tried to predict where Collins would go, while thinking about where I hoped he’d go, especially with Sam and Effie. I’ll admit I hoped they’d get together, but that also may have been too obvious a journey. Collins’ decision to keep them at arm’s length leaves the possibilities open for him writing future Sam Spade novels. Like Collins’ own couples it probably should take a few dozen stories before they link up, right? The decision also is consistent with Collins’ awareness of the times. Collins chooses to keep a nice distance between boss and employee. Any other move would have cheapened them both and made Sam cringey for a modern audience.
A consistent narrative. The story takes place when it was first written by Hammett, back in 1928, so Collins also adjusts his typical take on the sex scene, pulling back in a way that is consistent with 1920s readers and also Hammett’s characters. But he also takes a hand-off from Hammett when approaching F-bombs. Collins resurrects nearly every character from Hammett’s novel in his story that continues the events immediately after two main characters ended up in the slammer: Brigid O’Shaughnessy and Joel Cairo. That includes bringing back even minor side characters, human tools Spade uses throughout the city of San Francisco to do the work of private detective. One of the grimiest of Hammett’s villains is young street thug Wilmer Cook. Wilmer was responsible for the kind of fist-to-face contact that pulp crime novels would give readers for the next hundred years. Wilmer is also infamous for delivering Hammett’s subtle “F you” line of dialogue, cloaked for readers in the Great Depression as a “verb followed by the word you.” Collins takes that and adds his own twist–again with his distinctive subtle humor. The characters say some funny stuff, maybe not knowing that what they are saying is funny. Collins also incorporates some “meta” bits involving Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, whose novels are finally all at last in the public domain. Subtext, nuance, and even Easter eggs are there for anyone searching, none overt that could distract the reader.
Improvements on the original. Collins addressed the very things I had the biggest issues with in Hammett’s novel. As a femme fatale doubling as damsel in distress, Brigid wasn’t very layered or interesting. Collins’ choice for the key damsel in his sequel is far more fascinating. The ending of The Maltese Falcon got wrapped up too abruptly with too many details for my eye, and the book was filled with a lot of matter that didn’t drive the plot forward. In contrast Collins’ book is crisp and concise and the ending something quite memorable. Whose body was found at the pier, and who gets the last word as to the falcon? Collins’ choices are grand. I also thought Hammett skimped on the details of the very visual city of San Francisco. Collins, who cites some of his research in an afterword note, makes you feel like you’re right there–if you’re familiar with the streets and landmarks you can follow along with Sam on his many excursions. I couldn’t help imagining a remake of the original novel followed by this sequel, all with the same actors, all looking something like Alfred Hitchcock’s San Francisco from Vertigo.
The dingus returns. The falcon, or the “dingus” as Sam can’t stop referring to the black enamel-coated medieval statue of gold covered in jewels, makes another appearance. But is it the real thing, or as in Hammett’s novel, merely a fake? I’m not telling. I will say Collins’ use of the word “dingus” provided me with the same level of annoyance as Hammett’s Spade using the word over and over. So Collins gets a tip of my hat for getting that the same–but at least it’s not as bad as Peter Benchley referring to the shark of his famous novel as a fish in every other paragraph.
The movie adaptation vs the novels. The body count that Hammett stacked up continues to rise under the pen of Collins. Note that this is not your father’s Maltese Falcon–that is, if your father’s Maltese Falcon was the movie starring Humphrey Bogart. That movie was its own solid adaptation of the original. But the distinctions are plenty including the most obvious: Hammett’s original Sam Spade is a blond that looks like the devil. But it’s a free world and if you as reader want to see the characters as you want, go for it. Artist Irvin Rodriguez provides a singular look for the prized bird in his cover art for Collins’ novel. But if you think you know who the woman is he painted on the cover, you’re in for a surprise. And to top it off, this is a Christmas story–yep, right up there with Die Hard.
As with any sequel Collins has a mechanical writer’s task of repeating the high points of the first novel to bring new readers up to speed. Collins happily makes this affair brief for anyone reading the books together. For those who only know the movie or haven’t read the book in years this is the aid it is intended to be.
The most impressive magic of Collins is his ability to ferret out secrets inside Hammett’s story and upend characters in ways that Hammett may not have thought about. Or maybe he did? Put this sequel in the league of the The Godfather II and The Empire Strikes Back. The bottom line is this is a fun ride, a return of beloved characters and that prop that took on a life of its own along with a red sled as part of cinema history. It’s also entirely literary, a scholarly, historical piece of writing that will make you want to dig back into all Hammett had to offer. And hopefully get new readers interested in Collins’ many novels and series.
Don’t miss this one. Return of the Maltese Falcon from Hard Case Crime, written by celebrated crime writer Max Allan Collins, is available for pre-order now here at Amazon, arriving at bookstores everywhere tomorrow. Pick up Hammett’s original crime novel The Maltese Falcon, now available here at Amazon from Vintage Books.
