Distance, the [Hardcover]

Those of a certain age may remember the good old days of boxing, when the Gillette Friday night fights were all the rage. When cigar voiced announcers called each fight as though their very lives depended on the outcome. When the sound of the bell drew you into the living room and kept you there, glued to your seat, until the last punch was thrown.
Well, doesn't matter if you do or don't.
Because Eddie Muller has brought this fascinating world back to life.
His debut novel is set in 1948 San Francisco, when the fight business was still important business.
He brings to life Billy Nichols,
sportswriter for a major metropolitan newspaper. A guy with a pencil thin mustache, a fedora, and an attitude. Known in the trade as Mr. Boxing, Nichols has spent years building up his following and now at the pinnacle of his game, has a hell of lot to lose. But Billy's not just a hack, he is a very complicated fellow. In fact, he spends most of the book flailing away at a guilty conscience brought on by a bruisingly stupid act which takes place early in the book.

Bruisingly stupid and yet so understandably human, this act propels Billy into an out of control spin. Deception upon deception becomes an uncomfortable way of life.
How this guy still manages to keep his humanity, his honor and his life is a remarkable tale. I'm not spilling any secrets when I reveal that much, since this book, I understand,is the first in a series.

Muller's writing is so evocative, so vivid, that he pulls you instantly into Billy's garish world. The raucous boxing arena, the sweaty gym, the smoke filled bars and steamy bedrooms of this era before air conditioning, are there before you, thrillingly alive.

Dames with copper hair and blood red lips people this place.
Ham fisted cops with Irish faces, lumbering boxers with short tempers and hearts of gold, sleazy cigar faced managers, crooked politicos and hard hearted wives all live here. Murder, adultery, blackmail, doublecross upon doublecross weave in and out of this web which has ensnared Billy Nichols.

Muller has brought the film noir cult movies of the late forties and early fifties vividly back to life in this book.
I was captivated.
The Distance reads like one of those dark, deep shadowed, sharply photographed b/w movies of that time. Movies which always seemed to take place at night and usually starred John Garfield and Ida Lupino or Robert Taylor and Anne Sheridan or Veronica Lake and Alan Ladd or.......well, you get the picture.
This is one of the best debuts I've EVER read.
I can't wait to see where Muller takes Billy next.
And, by the way, I don't even like boxing.
So, that's how much Muller impressed me.
This is one ripe, juicy plum of a book.

THE DISTANCE combines two cultural elements which are now fading memories: professional boxing and the great newspapers. The Brown Bomber has retired to debt, and the heavyweight crown is available for a price. San Francisco is served by five daily newspapers. [Television is just coming on board and has not yet swamped the ship.] Men are men and women are women, and don't bet on the outcome.

Noir fiction depends for its success on authentic speech more than on highly cultivated plot, and Muller does a fine job of recreating the languages of the period. Just listen, and you can hear the color!

I liked especially that Muller mixed it up, but never went for the knockout. THE DISTANCE, as a title, reflects that long 15 rounds which were the nature of a life then, the grinding working class struggle to survive. And precious little whining.