Tuesday, October 28, 2008

*Saucy and Sexy- The Wicked Old World of James M. Cain- "The Institute"-Sex and Power in Washington

Click on the headline to link to a Wikipedia entry for American novelist James M. Cain

Sex and Power in Washington

The Institute, James M. Cain, Mason/Charter, New York, 1976


The last time I have had a chance to mention the work of James M. Cain, author of the classic noir works The Postman Always Rings Twice and Double Indemnity a couple of novels that take place in the 1930-40’s in sunny California, was a later work Mignon set in the Louisiana of the American Civil War days. As usual when I get ‘high’ on an author I like to run through most of his or her work to see where he or she is going with it. Thus, this review of a lesser work, a much lesser work by Cain is something of an obligation. As is familiar to anyone who runs through an author’s lifetime of writing efforts not all such endeavors are equal. The Institute written late in Cain’s literary career shows a man who has run out of steam in his literary efforts.

Why is that so here? Well, the premise that Cain is working under is well-worn. Power, sex and philanthropy or some such combination in the corridors of Washington and its environs has been done to death both before and after this 1976 effort. In his earlier work, the classic stuff, Cain distinguished himself by writing novels that verged on being ‘potboilers’ but when the dust settled they were little gems of literary insight into how the human psyche operated when it got its ‘wanting habits on' as Bessie Smith once sang in an old blues tunes. Not so here as the plot is predictable concerning the powerful showing off their wealth by endowing an institute of learning and several off-hand rather surreal romances, the twists lead nowhere and in the end it turns into a sappy melodrama as all is forgiven and the main characters (who survive) the brainy Dr. Palmer and beautiful Mrs. Garrett, lovers and newly-hatched parents ride off into the sunset. Give me those chiselin’ dames and handy ne’er-do-well guys from the old days anytime. Sorry, James.

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