Anlässlich der Veröffentlichung des neuen Mike-Hammer-Romans „The Goliath Bone“, den Max Allan Collins nach dem Tod von Mickey Spillane (auf dessen Wunsch) fertigstellte, unterhielt J. Kingston Pierce (The Rap Sheet) sich mit Max Allan Collins über Mickey Spillane, dessen Arbeitsstil, den Roman und die Arbeit an dem unvollendetenManuskript.
Über den nach 9/11 spielenden Roman schriebt J. Kingston Pierce:
„The Goliath Bone“ doesn’t send Hammer in a new direction, or cause one to rethink Spillane’s series as a whole. It’s a solid capper to Hammer’s professional arc, though, and a valuable reminder of this series’ strengths–fast action, a fully realized protagonist, and mayhem not inconsistent with Hammer’s urban jungle milieu and the dangers of his assignments. It is hard to tell exactly where Collins flexed his authorial muscles.
Und hier ein Ausschnitt aus dem lesenswertem Interview. Max Allan Collins beantwortet die Frage, warum Spillanes Mike-Hammer-Romane heute immer noch gelesen werden sollten:
Hammer is one of the handful of great detective characters to come out of fiction. Really, there’s probably only Sherlock Holmes, Poirot, Miss Marple, and Philip Marlowe in that club. Much as I love Nero Wolfe (and Archie Goodwin) and Perry Mason, they are not quite in that league. Hammer is an anachronism, but so are Holmes, Poirot, Marple, and Marlowe … and, of course, so is James Bond, who even now is a 1960s sexist in a tuxedo.
Speaking of which, Hammer was the character without whom you would have no James Bond, and the list is endless of who else you wouldn’t have–Dirty Harry, Jack Bauer, Spenser, and on and on.
He remains the toughest and nastiest of the great detectives, with a voice that is unmistakable and pure noir. The endings of Hammer stories have incredible impact, second to none in the genre, and there is sex and violence and … well, everything that makes popular fiction fun.
There are two reasons why Mickey isn’t read as much lately, and it’s just lately, the last decade or so: Mickey didn’t publish much, and his longtime publisher, NAL, stopped keeping him steadily in print. I, The Jury [1947] and Kiss Me, Deadly [1952] have outsold Stephen King and Dean Koontz–not having them readily available to new readers is criminal.
Kriminalakte 