Robin's Reviews > The Expendable Man

I was taught well before I ever had my driver's license that I should never pick up a hitchhiker. Hitchhikers, my parents would tell me, could be dangerous. You just never knew. Terrible things could happen to someone who thinks they are just being a good samaritan.

Hugh Densmore has a suspicion when he sees a homely girl alone in the desert, that he shouldn't stop his car. But hey, it was 1963, and maybe Hugh's mother hadn't taught him the adage that no good deed goes unpunished.

He picks her up. His life is never the same again.

I won't say much more about the plot of this book, for fear of spoiling. Let's just say that Dorothy B. Hughes plays with her readers' assumptions for the first 50 or so pages, and then reveals something important that shapes the rest of the narrative in a meaningful way.

Although I suspected early on what she was doing, I admire her purpose. I admire her ability to write from a point of view that is clearly not her own. I admire how she trains her lens on racial realities for certain people in 1960s America.

On the back cover of my NYRB edition, Dorothy B. Hughes is compared to Patricia Highsmith and Raymond Chandler, as a master of mid-century noir. I do take a bit of exception to this. While I guess you could make an argument for Hughes as a noir writer (others have), I have to say that this seemed like more of a straightforward crime novel for me. This isn't a complaint, per se, although I prefer to read psychological suspense drenched in noir rather than something that is as clear-cut as The Expendable Man.

In noir, the lines between good and bad are often blurry. You end up rooting for someone who does dubious things. In noir, the endings are often dark and tragic.

Hughes' book is very different. Her protagonist is always good, always trying to do the right thing, innocent and well-meaning, responsible and moral and brave. All the good people are decidedly good, and all the bad people are simply vile. There's not much complexity or grey area in this regard. As for the ending, it's tidy, just, and even ties the strings of romance into a pretty bow.

Again, this isn't really a complaint, it's probably more a matter of personal taste. Despite my reservations, I do believe The Expendable Man is interesting, compelling, and socially important. It's a competent crime novel that deserves a wider readership. And it also confirms everything that my parents taught me about hitchhikers.

3.5 stars