Some thoughts on Good Intentions

Like with the earlier blog about Hot Restart, this is not so much a review as an attempt to gather some thoughts about the book.

On the most basic level, Good Intentions is a smutty and pulpy wish fulfillment story. It clearly shows that it’s a first novel, and a self-published one at that: Several minor inconsistencies. More than one dropped ball. Many poorly executed scene transitions. Confusing flashbacks. The over-arching plot, based on the developing relations between Alex, Rachel, and Lorelei, is more or less buried under the series of events.

In lots of ways, the book is reminiscent of Raymond Chandler’s characterisation of much of the pulpy mystery stories written during the ’30s and ’40s: “When in doubt, have a man come through a door with a gun in his hand.”⁠ Except in this case, it is either a new threat or a new sexual encounter. Since this was written in a frenzy and serialised⁠ on an erotic literature web site, this is not really surprising. Lots of the pulp stories were also serialised and written in a frenzy due to very short deadlines.

But like the best writers writing pulp or in a pulpy style, Elliott Kay turned this into a strength. There is a drive and forward momentum in the storytelling, a sense that the writer is looking forward to what will happen next, or how the heroes will manage, just as much as the reader. Kay is here to tell an engaging story, not to write a Great Novel.

The similarities with classic pulp go beyond the pacing. Alex, the main character, also has similarities with a classic pulp hero, described by Chandler in the same essay:

But down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. The detective in this kind of story must be such a man. He is the hero; he is everything. He must be a complete man and a common man and yet an unusual man. He must be, to use a rather weathered phrase, a man of honor—by instinct, by inevitability, without thought of it, and certainly without saying it. He must be the best man in his world and a good enough man for any world.

“The Simple Art of Murder: An Essay”

Alex might not be a detective, but he has the same liminal role of peering into the world of shadows. He certainly combines the traits of being both common and unusual. Most importantly, he has an instinctive and integral sense of honour that drives both his actions and his inner conflicts. He may lack the certainty of purpose that the hard-boiled detective has, and he does express feelings of fear, but this makes him less cynical and more suited to a sense of masculinity connected to one’s feelings.

Unlike the pulp detective, he has friends and trusted associates, but then he inhabits a different world and a different story. Since this is smutty pulp, Alex’s sense of honour primarily comes through in his sexual relations. He is deeply concerned not only about consent, but also the meaningful ability to give consent. Above all he wants to avoid hurting anyone through a sexual liaison. More than one person around him recognises him as the best man and the best friend they have known. Alex is a modern evolution of the tradition, not a break from it.

Good Intentions is not great literature in any sense, shape or form. But it’s great pulp. In the right frame of mind it’s a great read.