Walter Mosley by his editor
04 February 2013
W&N editor Sophie Buchan writes about her first encounter
with Walter Mosley, one of the best kept secrets in modern
crime fiction …
The first time I ever read Walter Mosley, I was on my way home
to a part of Hackney that was far less gentrified than it is now.
I'd got off the bus but I couldn't bear to stop reading for the
walk to my door. It was as though Raymond Chandler had turned up in
Obama's America and was writing cool, pacy thrillers - but
real-world, street-smart cool, not vintage cool. So I tried to walk
and read, sidestepping cars but otherwise in a world of my own or,
more precisely, a world of razor-sharp wisecracks, hot pursuits
down fire escapes, mysterious fraud at City Hall, gritty Lower East
Side cool, enthralling shoot-outs in dingy alleyways… And I was so
captivated by this Walter Mosley, whom I'd barely heard of before,
that by the time I sensed something was wrong, I'd walked straight
into the scene of a shooting. Mosley's writing had been so
cinematic, so much more vivid than the real world, that I'd assumed
the shots and getaway screeches were accompaniments to the drama
going on in my head. I went home shaken, but with a new favourite
author, to a bemused flatmate who claimed no book could be so
absorbing, and that I should stop reading on that electronic book
box thing, which was never going to catch on anyway. I like
to think she was as wrong on the first count as she was on the
second.
The manuscript I was reading was called The Long Fall,
the first novel in Mosley's Leonid McGill series. All four Leonid
McGill mysteries take you on a wild ride through the dark side of
New York, with twists and turns enough to give you a crick in the
neck. But the McGill mysteries are also much more than crime
novels. They contain utterly believable, flamboyant characters,
whose dilemmas off the detective trail intrigue you just as much as
the mysteries they improbably but brilliantly solve. And these
books are wonderful portraits of contemporary New York.
In the same way that reading Mosley's renowned Easy Rawlins
mysteries showed what it meant to be a black man in post-War
America so much better than many social histories or, dare I say,
worthier novels, the McGill series articulates what it
feels like to live in Obama's America, with all the social tension
and hope that entails, but also with cracking dialogue,
effortlessly cool writing and brilliant, deadpan humour.
So I hope you'll join Bill Clinton and me in deciding that
Walter Mosley is one of your very favourite authors.
To celebrate the acquisition of the hotly anticipated new Easy
Rawlins title Little Green, we're giving away two proof
copies.
Email us by 28 February for a chance to win.