Burton as Le Carre's Alec Leamus |
“Went to bed and read a
‘Travis McGee’ thriller by a very competent American writer called John D.
MacDonald. He is one of those prolific writers like Simenon and Erle Stanley
Gardner and so on who seem to turn out a book a month. MacDonald is a cut above
most, however, and tries to be unsentimentally tough about the decaying
morality and mass-production mania and advertising nightmare of the American
way of life. Ends up with a lump in his throat about the occasional innate
nobility of man.
“McGee is a thoroughly
detestable man in his pretended cynicism and muscular pretension and despises
with a tired dismissal anybody who is not ‘machismo’ and ‘mucho hombre’ and an
inexhaustible stud.
“There are fairly
sick-making lines like ‘he patted her girl-rump’ and ‘he responded to the
rampant woman in her.’ Another occasion for bile is that this McGee — who is
enormous 6 ft 5 and as fast as a cat —is called ‘Trav’ by his friends.
"However,
I’ve learned to skip the sermons when they come up and the yarns and the
inconsequential but authentic-seeming descriptive backgrounds are very
readable.
“I envy anyone’s capacity
for such sustained and for the most part sound writing. If he wrote one book a
year instead of 10, he could be considerable.
“I don’t think I could
write a thriller. I don’t think I want to even if I could. Such books are meant
to be read, not written. Read fast and quickly forgotten and therefore readable
again in a couple of years.”
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