Chandler’s Marlowe and Hammett’s own Spade are world-weary agents maneuvering among a corrupt and shady world. In the world according to Marlowe, his prejudices paint the picture, his conflicts color the corruption, and his sympathies shade the shadiness. Spade takes his share and lets the rest sort itself out. The nameless, faceless Continental Op merely chronicles others’ subjectivities. He unravels their tales but doesn’t bother make sense of them–generally, there’s very little sense to be made. The ultimately “false” narratives contain as much, or as little, clarity as the ultimately “true” ones. If his world appears weary, it’s because the world can appear weary.
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