“Except for the shape, she wasn’t any raving beauty, but she had a sulky look to her, and her lips stuck out in a way that made me want to mash them in for her.” – The Postman Always Rings Twice

“I had killed a man, for money and a woman. I didn’t have the money and I didn’t have the woman.” – Double Indemnity

In the same way that America’s greatest contributions to the world of cinema were, arguably, the film noirs, two of their most indelible gifts to the world of literature were the roman noirs (noir fiction) and the hardboiled crime fictions. And, as we are all aware of, the very existence of the former was inspired from and heavily indebted to that of the latter. People then of course had a different name for this literary genre – ‘pulp fiction’. Although that epithet had negative/belittling connotations (the novels used to be printed in books and magazines with low quality paper – the kinds that are infamous for their publishing of fast and ‘lurid’ stories with a heady dose of crime, violence and sex, and hence the name), it somehow got stuck in the popular culture. And along with the likes of Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett, David Goodis, Elmore Leonard and Mickey Spillane, James M. Cain formed one of the great exponents of this now-hallowed and distinctly American school of writing.

James Mallahan Cain, an American author of Irish descent, started out his career as a journalist with no intention or inclination whatsoever of becoming a novelist, leave alone doing something extraordinary. Though his works often earned the ire of purists and conservatives, and quite interestingly, he was also disliked by his great contemporary Raymond Chandler (although, as his books bear ample proof, Chandler was neither a purist nor a conservative), Cain is credited to have written two of the great masterpieces in American literature – The Postman Always Rings Twice and Double Indemnity. Mildred Pierce, too, was a famous book, but the above two were the ones which earned him a permanent place in the pantheon of great American writers of the 20^th century.

Published in 1934, The Postman Always Rings Twice faced a lot of problems with moral polices upon its release, including being banned in Boston. But dissemination and appreciation of a great work of art can be halted only for so long, and, quite rightly, in time, it ended up being considered as one of the definitive works of American crime fiction  and was even included as in the list of 100 best novels compiled by Modern Library, a respected sub-division of the prestigious Random House publishers.

It is narrated in first person by the principal protagonist of the story, a young drifter named Frank Chamber, who makes a fatal choice of judgment by stopping at a small roadside diner called Twin Oaks Tavern somewhere in California. He is out of cash, so making full use of his gift of the gab he talks his way into a job there at the diner which is owned by a good-natured, middle-aged person of Greek origin called Nick Papadakis. But trouble starts as soon as Frank meets Nick’s young, sultry wife, Cora. The two instantly take a liking towards each other, and before long they are not only carrying out a steamy affair behind the amiable Greek’s back, but also plotting how to get rid of him from their scheme of things. But murdering Nick and getting away turn out to be the easier things to accomplish. Jealousy, distrust and paranoia finally get the better of them, and soon enough they start going down one after the other.

The title might seem to be a non sequitur to the readers because never in the story does a postman make an appearance, leave alone doing so twice. The explanation to the title was clearly given in the climax of the Tay Garnett-adaptation of the novella, released in 1946. As John Garfield, portraying the role of Frank Chambers, explains, you can escape comeuppance once, but crime never goes unpunished, and sooner or later fate has a strange habit of catching up – even if it is for a crime you never committed in the first place, just to square things off. The movie, though good, never matched the poetic brilliance of the book, and the pseudo-moralising at the end nearly spoilt the the good work done by the director. On the contrary, moralising was something Cain never did, as he was more interested in the primal instincts of the human race rather than philosophical deliberations of and ramblings on such matters as ‘god’ and ‘destiny’. Hence, leaving the unravelling of the title’s meaning to the readers’ interpretation was one more reason for the effectiveness of the book. Interestingly, though on a different note, legendary French philosopher, writer and one of the pioneers of existentialism, Albert Camus was so impressed with the book that he changed his seminal novel, The Outsider, to first-person narration!

Double Indemnity, which was published a couple of years later in 1936, was apparently based on real events that Cain had happened to come across in the newspapers. The novella, narrated in first person, is about a smart, intelligent and reasonably successful insurance salesman named Walter Huff who falls prey to the deadly charms of a seductive vixen called Phyllis Nirdlinger, wife of a wealthy LA executive. As soon as they meet, we know lust, murder, double cross and betrayal are in the air, and Cain doesn’t disappoint us on any of the counts.

Walter, on Phyllis’ casual insistence, plots the perfect murder, and even carries it out flawlessly – right from fooling Mr. Nirdlinger into getting a life insurance with a double indemnity clause in case he dies in an accident, to staging his murder look like death from train accident. But, as in the previous novel, as soon as the murder is done and their alibis have been settled, instead of being happy and contented, his attraction towards her turns into distrust and hate, and soon enough all he can think of is finding ways to murder her. More so since he now finds himself slowly falling in love with Lola, Mr. Nirdlinger’s daughter from his previous marriage, and he’s afraid that she might someday uncover what he did. He thus plans another perfect murder, but a neat double cross later he finds himself with a bullet hole in his body and confessing all his crimes to Keyes, the dogged Head of the Claims Department and Walter’s colleague, while recuperating at the hospital.

The short novel was turned into an iconic film noir by the great Billy Wilder, starring Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck and Edward G. Robinson. If I were to compare as to which was the better of the two, I would find that a terribly difficult task to accomplish because Wilder performed the rare achievement of making the film as good, if not better, vis-à-vis the material it was based on. But if I were to juxtapose the two, I would say I preferred the bleak irony of the book’s ending as compared to the getting-even kind of showdown in the movie.’s climax. On the movie’s support, (if my memory is not failing me) the script let Phyllis remain femme fatale, albeit a sane person, till the end, while in the book she is later revealed to be a sociopath with a diabolical past – something which we really didn’t need to know. Interestingly, the screenplay for the movie was jointly written by Billy Wilder and Raymond Chandler.

Though both the books, The Postman Always Rings Twice and Double Indemnity, are masterpieces, I personally felt the latter as the first among equals. This, despite the fact that they are quite similar in both form and content. Principal protagonist in the former might be a street-smart drifter in the former, while that in the latter an intelligent insurance agent, both are essentially weak, easily corruptible and deeply flawed male characters. Walter, though, as it turns out, is the more assured and self-confident of the two, and interestingly, as proven when he falls for Lola, the one more capable of redemption. Yet, as proven by the relative ease with which he was shrewdly seduced and lured into a mutually convenient relationship in the first place, he is no less flawed. And in their earthy flaws and weaknesses, they end up being two extremely ‘real’ persons. I’d read a quotation which went something like, given the right time and situation, every man is capable of committing the most despicable of crimes, and these two Cain creations are burning examples of this basic truism of the human race.

The novels also boast of two of the most alluring, dynamic and self-serving femme fatale characters – Cora and Phyllis; incidentally both are married to older husbands. However, while Cora is bored in her marriage and gradually stumbles upon the idea of getting rid of her husband, Phyllis is as scheming and duplicitous a female as you can get. And the fact that both the novels have been narrated by the male protagonists, we get to know the two female characters through their perspectives and thought processes, and hence only as much as they managed to decipher their true natures. Thus right till the very end they continue to remain unpredictable, and I daresay, enigmatic characters, whose layers and shades remain as unknown to us as they are to Frank and Walter, respectively. The gradual unravelling of their true motives and schemes makes reading the stories that much more engrossing, entertaining and exhilarating.

The books wouldn’t have been what they are without the signature writing style that Cain brought to the table. He painted a world that is cold, detached and corrupted nearly beyond retribution. The theme abounds in nihilism and bleak irony. And given that they were written during the Great Depression-era, a period marked by gloom and pessimism, the novellas have expertly succeeded in bringing forth the exact mood and sociological atmosphere prevalent then. Though never as mordantly witty or bitingly sarcastic as Chandler’s iconic gumshoe Phillip Marlowe, Cain’s protagonists nonetheless have their fair share of a deadpan and an almost self-deprecating sense of humour fully intact. The vivid characterizations, engaging storylines, terse and edgy style of writing,  the terrific build-ups of atmosphere, moral ambivalence of the anti-heroes, lightening-fast narratives, wry humour, crackling dialogues, and the staccato of the-then taboo materials of lust, duplicity, adultery, illicit affairs, double crosses, blackmail, betrayals and cold-blooded murder, have all added up to make these two novellas every bit the compelling masterpieces they are made out to be.

Edmund Wilson couldn’t have been more apt, or for that matter lavished a greater praise, when he said of James M. Cain (as revealed in the book jacket of the Cain omnibus that I have bought), that he is “a poet of the tabloid murder”. That’s a remarkable summation of the legendary writer, and all I can say to that is, touché.

“I never really wanted anything, but her. But that’s a lot. I guess it’s not often that a woman even has that.” – The Postman Always Rings Twice

“I wasn’t the only one that figured the world wasn’t big enough for two people, when they knew that about each other. I had come there to kill her, but she had beaten me to it.” – Double Indemnity