I've seen the movie and remembered rain and returning to the same house twice. That's like the only thing that happens in both the movie and the book. It's an interesting novel. For about 70% of it, from the end of the first 25% to the start of the last 5%, it drags. It's not bad but I started to tire of the process. There's not a lot of insight in it. It wasn't bad, it was just machinery disguised as writing. There's some very specific things that Chandler does very well. He can capture the romanticism of a certain location - LA - sometimes, with a specificity that's rare. There I see the Faulkner comparison. But in the substance and depth of the story there really isn't much until those end pieces come together and sort of relay that substance and depth across a chasm and fill in the self-created valley with worth and value, in a nice and comforting way. I think I like Hammett more but perhaps Chandler understood the technique of novels more. I'm curious why the doubled return to a house in rain has such a pronounced psychological effect. I don't really have time to read him more but I'll get around to it probably. Something something final last sentence of review conclusory.