The Little Sleep

Paul Tremblay's debut novel, The Little Sleep, not only sports a eye-catching title, but a premise that's just as intriguing.

Obviously, the title's supposed to get the reader thinking of noir classic, The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler–so one expects the lone-wolf, tougher than nails, sardonically witty gumshoe typified by Philip Marlowe. But Tremblay's protagonist, Mark Genevich, has one challenge his predecessors in the genre doesn't have...he's a narcoleptic. So he's falling asleep, hallucinating and losing control of his body and the most inconvenient times (for Genevich, anyway...the occasionally seem a convenient deus ex machina to get Tremblay out of a scene).

Initially, the book didn't do much for me–had a hard time caring for Genevich or his problem, his client, and the early chapters seemed a little too erratic. But I hung in there, and eventually, Genevich explains his disorder enough that you can accept the bouncing-around nature of the first chapters. I'm still not sure how sympathetic Tremblay ever makes him, but you do at least start to want him to figure out what's going on–which is close enough.

I remember when I started working the graveyard shift (I guess 3rd shift is the term we're supposed to use now), I had a lot of days where I couldn't be sure that I wouldn't fall asleep w/o warning–in a theater, during a slow after-dinner conversation, on the road(!)–and I recognized the embarrassment, anger and confusion Genevich displayed. No matter what precautions he took, the very real danger of waking in a different place or his body not acting like he intended always loomed large. I'm assuming Tremblay has no first-hand knowledge of the disorder, but he sure acts like he does.

Genevich's path to solving this particular case follows many of the typical hardboiled paths, but he cannot travel those paths like his forefathers because of his disorder. Unlike with Monk, Genvich's problem is never fodder for humor–unlike Monk's OCD, which would've been very easy, and probably very entertaining. Tremblay sticks to the high road, however, resulting in a deeper, probably more satisfying, read.