Purchase instant access (PDF download and unlimited online access):
Colin Wilson in his work The Outsider defines an outsider as a person who perceives that, much of what we call civilisation is a denial of the finest of human values. He experiences a deep sense of alienation both from himself and his society, but also struggles for a unity from within. Because he cannot feel at home in the world, the outsider closes in on himself; he crosses what Wilson refers to as the Indifference Threshold.1 It was amidst the tremulous urban life of post- Depression war torn America that a lone private detective, Philip Marlowe, appeared on the streets of Los Angeles. Marlowe’s moral authority took shape against a sullied world, in which every other person was a criminal or a hypocrite, a world that needed a knight to redeem it but did not wanted such redemption. This paper is an attempt to surface the complex characterisation of the tough hard-boiled detective Marlowe in the light of Wilson’s definition. In him, there lies a complex and uncertain central figure who often uses his biting one-liners to sidestep serious personal questions that might give the reader an insight into his views on women, relationships, or even his unknown past. I will argue that Marlowe’s failure is not a mere pernicious influence of material interest in a world gone wrong, but rather one that focuses on his obsessive quest for glory and the hollowness of prestige that he treasures. The detective, who appeared to have risen above the others, is actually no different at all. In fact, he is a private figure rather than the public one, which he thinks he is. This dialectic aspect in Raymond Chandler’s fictional creation narrows the gulf between the detective and the criminal manifesting a state of dull insensitivity that often expresses itself as critically existential and alien.