Marlowe’s stigmata demonstrate his fundamental invincibility. There is no man neither tarnished nor afraid: such a creature would be an animal, or a machine—or a god, where each gimlet is another station of the cross in a pornography of suffering that culminates in the hangover, the Crucifixion, the money shot.
J. D. Daniels, delightfully, for the Paris Review. But that’s what we’re paying to see, isn’t it? Heightened contrast and no gray areas; noir using morality as paid entertainment in the same way that pornography transforms sex?
Reblogged from The Paris Review.
September 20, 2012, 6:22am Comments