Feminists and their manlet supporters have been destroying male lore for decades. Among their more successful victories have been the normalisation of homosexuality (now it’s onwards to paedophilia), the emasculation of men through demands for fake equality (it’s nothing of the sort), and the now general belief in ‘toxic masculinity’ (or what used to be called ‘being a man’). James Hadley Chase died in 1985, and did not live to see the seeds of Western cultural destruction planted in the 1960s bear the rotting fruit we see today, but lived long enough to hear nonsense such as the reason he never sold as well in America as in other markets was because his misogynist attitude turned women readers off. Which is quite an amusing argument when you consider it; after all, are white women turned off mudsharking by 'overly virile' blacks and their cultural products?
Chase, bless his soul, gave us alpha males in spades. The Whiff of Money, published in 1969, is the fourth in his books about Mark Girland, an ex-CIA operative in Paris who makes James Bond look like a choir boy sans testicles. Or is that a tautology? Jokes aside, these days, à la Château Heartiste or Vox Day, we’d say Mr. Girland had game. And plenty of it. Chase knew a thing or two about real men. He also knew that women’s knickers get wetter than an English summer if men do three things: defy her expectations, are charming jerkboys, and are not boring betas. Mr. Girland gets the girls because he not only knows that but has the intestinal fortitude to act on it.
What this book, and The Painted Veil by W. Somerset Maugham, which I’m currently reading, takes for granted, is the male lore feminists seek to erase. Fortunately, and thanks to astute observers of female and male behaviour like CH and Vox, several generations of men are now relearning how to act like men again. But here’s the thing about that; up until the 1950s or 1960s, most men instinctively knew how to get a woman’s interest. Vacuuming, being a stay-at-home-father, and marching in a pussy hat doesn’t get a woman’s motor running. (I’m going to return to this theme when I review Maugham’s novel in a couple of days.)
Chase also understood something else about men, which seems to have been lost in the pussification masquerading as sensitivity and diversity training: real men can be on the opposite sides of the fence, but still respect each other for how they comport themselves as men. I don’t want to give away too much of the novel, but alpha men don’t hold petty grudges and engage in passive aggressive back stabbing. They may try to kill each other, but at the end of it all can look each other in the eye and respect a worthy adversary. If current popular culture is any guide, then men today gain victory with a snarky remark that makes everyone laugh. Or they prove their manliness by demonstrating their inferiority to a female boss (who is more alpha than any 'man' in the room). No wonder Trump is popular with men who have relearned what it is to be men (or have never forgotten it). Respecting another man for being a man is a lost art in many circles (cf., Washington D.C., popular movies, SJWs, the antifa retards, Republican cucks, and so on and on).
There's one thing to keep in mind about this novel. Even though it’s a stand-alone and reading the other Girland outings in order is not necessary, I’d suggest you do read them from the first one onwards. Chase, or is publisher, had an annoying habit of referencing events from earlier books by way of footnotes in the text. In most cases this is pretty harmless, but one of them did give away a major plot point from an earlier book. That may well ruin it for spergs (like me) who haven't read it yet, so beware.