The Rip-Off

De: Jim Thompson

Narrado por: Brian Troxell

Britton Rainstar never knew he could love a woman as deeply as he does Manuela Aloe and be so terrified of her at the same time. It's not just that he thinks she's out of his league. It's more that the longer he stays with her, the closer to death he seems to come. A vicious dog is somehow let loose in his hotel room. He's threatened at gunpoint by a man in a skeleton costume. And when he finally ends up in the hospital, someone pushes his wheelchair down the stairs.

Nothing anything like this has ever happened to Britt before--and while Manuela's never around when the so-called "accidents" happen, neither can Britt prove she's behind the many threats on his life. Is a rival for Manuela's affections trying to chase him away? Is there more to Manuela herself than meets the eye? Whatever it is, Britt better find out fast--before whoever's after him hits their mark, and the man who never thought he'd land the ultimate girl ends up paying the ultimate price.

Reseñas de la Crítica

"The best suspense writer going, bar none."—The New York Times

"My favorite crime novelist-often imitated but never duplicated."—Stephen King

"If Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett and Cornell Woolrich would have joined together in some ungodly union and produced a literary offspring, Jim Thompson would be it...His work...casts a dazzling light on the human condition."—Washington Post

"Like Clint Eastwood's pictures it's the stuff for rednecks, truckers, failures, psychopaths and professors ... one of the finest American writers and the most frightening, [Thompson] is on best terms with the devil. Read Jim Thompson and take a tour of hell."—The New Republic

"The master of the American groin-kick novel."—Vanity Fair

"The most hard-boiled of all the American writers of crime fiction."—Chicago Tribune

Terrible excuse for “noir farce.” Not up to Thompson’s standard.

There’s a reason this book was rejected for publication during his life. It’s wretched.

I’ve read most of Jim Thompson’s novels, and so far this is the only one that I straight up dislike and consider a waste of time and money.

Nominally, this is a farce of the sorts of crime fiction Thompson is rightly famous for. But the “humor” isn’t funny, it doesn’t serve the utterly silly plot, and the ostensible social commentary wanders from inane to offensive — often a blend of both, in the style of “old man rants at clouds.”

The first chapter is actually pretty engaging and initially seems like a promising a setup. There are a few other brief scenes or moments that seem promising, and some of his wordplay could be clever in a better novel. But those promises ultimately prove ragged and scattered.

Most of this feels like the sort of pretense at farce that a writer composes because they’ve grown disgusted with their chosen genre, and are too bitter to put forth the effort to writer either a good story or a good critique.

In short — the only joke here is on us, the readers.