Midnight Cowboy by James Leo Herlihy

By James Leo Herlihy

Nighttime Cowboy is the robust and unforgettable novel of the compelling desire of humans for one another—a wrenching tale of ache and loss. Freewheeling loser Joe greenback arrives in ny urban and embarks on a quest to reside the yank dream. alongside the best way he meets road hustler and petty legal Ratso Rizzo. jointly, the 2 shape a rare courting filled with heartbreak and wish, leading to a compelling American novel concerning the bonds of friendship. A gritty yet compassionate novel approximately an ingenuous younger man's war of words with the disagreeable realities of city lifestyles, hour of darkness Cowboy is an under-appreciated vintage of postwar American literature.

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Additional resources for Midnight Cowboy

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I shall leave you the name of my bank in Switzerland. When they tell me the first two hundred and fifty thousand dollars has been deposited, or when I am fully ready, whichever is the later, I shall move. I will not be hurried beyond my own judgement, nor will I be subject to interference. » «D'accord. But our undercover men in France are in a position to offer you considerable assistance in the way of information. » The Englishman considered this for a moment. «All right, when you are ready send me by mail a single telephone number, preferably in Paris so that I can ring that number direct from anywhere in France.

At the top he paused and glanced down the only corridor available. At the far end was room 68. He counted back down the corridor to what must be AA although the figures were out of sight. Between himself and the door of 64 was twenty feet of corridor, the walls being studded on the right by two other doors before 64, and on the left a small alcove partially curtained with red velours hanging from a cheap brass rod. He studied the alcove carefully. From beneath the curtain, which cleared the floor by four inches, the toe of a single black shoe urged slightly.

Whatever thoughts did go on behind the smoke-screen, nothing came through, and Rodin felt a worm of unease. Like all men created by systems and procedures, he did not like the unpredictable and therefore the uncontrollable. «We know who you are,» he began abruptly. «I had better introduce myself. » «I know,» said the Englishman, «you are chief of operations of the OAS. » He stared at each of the men in turn as he spoke, and reached for a cigarette. «You seem to know a lot already,» interjected Casson as the three watched the visitor light up.

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