Hmmm, well here's an outdated review. I got more bored with noir and started delving into new wave sci-fi for more inventive pulp needs not so long after. But here it is: 
 Of all the "pulp" genres -- sci-fi, horror, romance, fantasy -- noir has always been the one that interested me most. And yet, after enjoying so many books that borrowed the conventions (Gorky Park was a long-ago favorite, The Yiddish Policemen's Union a more recent one), I'd never read anything from the originals. Now, I still haven't read any Dashiell Hammett, but at least I've read some Chandler. And it was worth it. Not just for the archetypal characters and plotting and mood that have been endlessly copied since, but also for the clean clarity of the prose. In places it feels stiff and cliche, but mostly it's about as concise and exacting as possible, conveying a wealth of visceral details and characterization without a word extra. After the chapter-long digressions of Moby Dick, it is entirely welcome. And strung throughout, lines like this: 
 "Blood began to move around in me, like a prospective tenant looking for a house."