Dutch Forkes
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| - | : "Pleased by the parting of a crowd the criminal builds an arsenal. A cabinet of observation, of deadly vision through a slight -- through the fastidious expanse of an overattendeant mam -- a cruising face set of smile, each mile, settled, like poetry given ot a woman weeping from birth --- entire faces reaching out, splayed, impossibly. Let's cut it short. We can step to the dooor. Or we can ''seem.''" | + | : "Pleased by the parting of a crowd the criminal builds an arsenal. A cabinet of observation, of deadly vision through a slight -- through the fastidious expanse of an overattendeant mam -- a cruising face set of smile, each mile, settled, like poetry given to a woman weeping from birth --- entire faces reaching out, splayed, impossibly. Let's cut it short. We can step to the dooor. Or we can ''seem.''" |
| : "Yeah. I ''seem''. We all ''seem.'' Where've you been? I have shit to fuck you with." -- t.wilson ''(igloo, 2005)'' | : "Yeah. I ''seem''. We all ''seem.'' Where've you been? I have shit to fuck you with." -- t.wilson ''(igloo, 2005)'' | ||
Revision as of 11:53, 9 Jan 2005
He was invited but shows up primarily to stuff 'clues' into a sack. An alligator with gunmetal paw-rings, he recieves a single, enormous and gently roasted peanut.
Celebrated "private dick," hard-boiled, or rather, poached. He appeared in two novels by Stimes Addisson. His name is an homage to Wilhemina Forkes and his character is based upon stories she used to tell of a crazy uncle--Günter Forkes--who set up a diamond shop in Amsterdam and converted to Juadaism after the Second World War. He was stabbed to death by a half-mad rabbinical student who'd fallen in love with Forkes' wife. In the books, however, Dutch isn't Jewish and lives in Tuscaloosa, Alabama.
Though rarely found outside dime stores and run-down shanties, Addisson's work in the detective milieu has recieved and extraordinary amount of attention in recent years. Launching this critical reappriasal was 2002's The Forkes Enigma: A Study of Cryptoprophecy Noir.
Non-Canonical Text
- "Pleased by the parting of a crowd the criminal builds an arsenal. A cabinet of observation, of deadly vision through a slight -- through the fastidious expanse of an overattendeant mam -- a cruising face set of smile, each mile, settled, like poetry given to a woman weeping from birth --- entire faces reaching out, splayed, impossibly. Let's cut it short. We can step to the dooor. Or we can seem."
- "Yeah. I seem. We all seem. Where've you been? I have shit to fuck you with." -- t.wilson (igloo, 2005)
