I’d argue Marlowe is the greatest literary detective, and yes, I’m including Sherlock Holmes in that one. I was engrossed by the seedy, dark, corrupt, mysterious worlds Marlowe operated in, and the ending was captivating to the point that despite being regarded as a classic, Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall could not do it justice in the film adaptation. I was drawn to this as the second Marlowe novel, and I had read the supremely cool The Big Sleep at A-Level, where I have to say, my teacher read it brilliantly. Evidently as a female character in the world of private detective Philip Marlowe you can go one of two ways, but women often end up being the key to the story – not in the typical damsel in distress way, more the conniving vixen out to destroy everyone around her. When trying to recommend Chandler it feels like your own words will never do him justice, you have no choice but to quote some of the slick, sublime descriptions. “She’s a charming middle-aged lady with a face like a bucket of mud and if she has washed her hair since Coolidge’s second term, I’ll eat my spare tyre, rim and all.”

A blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window.” Following on from Charlotte, this week’s Recommended Read comes from Dave Cookson, our other Reader In Residence at Liverpool Hope University, who submits Farewell, My Lovelyas evidence that Raymond Chandler is the real ‘literary king of American cool’.

Farewell my lovely 1940