Vintage crime it is. From the moment J handed me Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep I knew I had found the genre I've always loved without knowing- Vintage Crime. I went through the Big Sleep on the rather tedious journey to and from the workplace, (thank god for Vajra buses) and as a result sometimes became mildly befuddled about who was chasing or shooting whom. However, it gave me the very satisfactory feeling of having bitten into something really juicy.
And now it is the classic Maltese Falcon.-what's not to love? 1940s San Fransisco (a city I'll always love in a special way since having its night-time fog and ocean mists described to me by J), Sam Spade, and lots of classic intrigue.
Even if I have to read it during a bus journey that takes an hour and a half to cover 14 kilometers. I suppose it's the only thing that's kept me sane.