Old Tech Becomes New Treasure

Have you ever fantasized about owning something that once belonged to Raymond Chandler? One of his typewriters, for instance?

Well, that’s exactly what Northern California novelist Mark Coggins, creator of the August Riordan private eye series, bought during a recent sale of Chandler estate goods managed by the distinguished auction house Doyle New York. Among the array of items being offered were books once owned by the creator of Los Angeles gumshoe Philip Marlowe, along with his letters, jewelry, fan mail, postcards, scripts for the 1959-1960 Marlowe TV series, Chandler’s unpublished drafts of fantasy stories, and a 1957 poem the author wrote about a poodle lost in Palm Springs, California. Plus, of course, that aforementioned typewriter: the Olivetti Studio 44 model on which Chandler reportedly composed his final novel, 1958’s Playback.

(Right) Chandler’s Olivetti, loaded with a Playback quote. (Click the image to enlarge.)

The auction took place this last December 6, and included bidders both on site at Doyle’s in Manhattan and others connected to the rapid-fire proceedings electronically or by phone. Coggins—who participated online, with a live video feed—was interested in more than just Chandler’s Olivetti, but didn’t figure to actually walk away with any of the items up for bid. So, he says, “I was completely shocked to have won [the typewriter], because the original auction estimate was $10,000 to $20,000, and I didn’t expect to be in the hunt at those prices.” Yet, luck turned in his favor. “I’m very pleased and strangely honored to be the steward of the machine, at least for a time,” he adds.

Doyle’s official description of this Olivetti reads:

A tan, full-size portable Olivetti Studio 44 typewriter, manufactured circa 1953 and acquired by Chandler shortly thereafter, held in its red original travel case with handle, the 44-key keyboard with keys likely special ordered by Chandler to include the foreign accent marks on the far right, including a “caret” (excellent with languages, Chandler frequently wrote in French). Some light wear to the typewriter which has not been tested for full functionality; the cover detached at hinges, other wear to case. Offered with a red and black ribbon acquired later.

Said auction write-up goes on to explain that “While Chandler had previously owned an Underwood, he was quite pleased with his new Olivetti, writing: ‘I am apt to get up around 4am, take a mild drink of Scotch and water and start hammering at this lovely Olivetti 44, which is far superior to anything we turn out in America. It is a heavy portable and put together like an Italian racing car, and you mustn't judge it from my typing’ (Raymond Chandler, 21 May 1955). Clearly, Chandler took his typewriter seriously and used it nearly every day, preferring blue ribbons to traditional black.”

Coggins—who in addition to his fiction-writing, contributes occasional articles to The Rap Sheet—tells us that he knew on December 6 he had won Chandler’s mechanical prize, but “I was out of town for almost two months. I had it shipped to a friend’s house and only recently picked it up.” In this period when he’s still aglow with his new acquisition, we decided to ask him a few questions about his longstanding interest in Raymond Chandler, how the Doyle’s auction worked, what became of this Olivetti after the author’s demise in 1959, and what plans he has for it in the near future.

J. Kingston Pierce: Do you remember when you first started reading Raymond Chandler’s work? And how did his stories affect you?

Mark Coggins: I remember it distinctly. It was my sophomore year in college [at California’s Stanford University]. I was introduced to him when the instructor of my first creative-writing course read from The Big Sleep to illustrate how certain writers have a very distinctive voice. He also read a parody of Chandler by Woody Allen to show how a style that distinctive could be imitated.

I didn’t know anything about Chandler, and I absolutely loved what I heard. I went to the school bookstore and got all of his books. Then I read there was this guy named Hammett who was Chandler’s predecessor, so I got all of his, too. By the time I took my next class, I was chomping at the bit to write a hard-boiled P.I. story of my own.

The punchline of this anecdote is that the instructor was Tobias Wolff. His first published short story, “Smokers,” came out in The Atlantic Monthly in the middle of our class. Much later, I attended a signing of his for his novel Old School and he told me he didn’t even like Chandler.

JKP: Did Chandler turn you into a crime-fictionist, or were there other more influential forces pushing you in that direction?

MC: It was solely my exposure to Chandler (and, by extension, Hammett) in Wolff’s class that led me to try my hand at hard-boiled P.I. fiction. The next class I took was from Ron Hansen and it was there that I wrote a story called “There’s No Such Thing as Private Eyes,” which was ultimately published in The New Black Mask, a revival of the famous Black Mask pulp magazine where Hammett and Chandler got their start. The character of August Riordan was introduced in that story, and I’ve been writing about him ever since.

JKP: Do you own other items closely associated with Chandler?

MC: I had a full set of Chandler first editions, as well as a full set of Hammett firsts. I also had the Black Mask edition featuring Chandler’s story “The Curtain,” which was partly the basis for his first novel, The Big Sleep. I recently donated all of those items and many more volumes of detective fiction to the University of California, Berkeley’s Bancroft Library, where Randal S. Brandt curates the California Detective Fiction Collection.

JKP: How did you hear about this Doyle’s auction? And were there items other than the typewriter in which you were interested?

MC: I’m not on Twitter or Facebook/Instagram any longer, but I am on Mastodon, and I happened to see a post there about the auction the night before it was scheduled. I rushed to register on the auction site, feeling rather awkward and nervous about participating, since I had never bid at a live auction before and had never contemplated bidding on items as valuable as those in the Chandler collection.

I was interested in the typewriter, but I actually thought it would be out of my price range. I was instead focused on Chandler’s edition of The Maltese Falcon, in which Chandler had rather surprisingly pasted the table of contents from the Black Mask edition containing his story “Killer in the Rain.” It was almost like he was saying to Hammett, “Look, I can sling hard-boiled argot, too!” It seemed like a great association piece for the two writers.

(Right) Chandler’s 1931 hardcover edition of The Maltese Falcon.

The estimated auction price for Chandler’s Falcon was $500-$800, but others must have seen the appeal, too, because it ended up selling for a whopping $4,800. I submitted two bids during the auction—which took place before the typewriter—but was quickly outgunned.

JKP: What was the bidding process of that auction like?

MC: The format for the auction was rather unusual. It was live, but there were three sources for bids: people sitting in a room at the auction house raising paddles, people calling in by phone, and people like me who were using the auction house’s Internet bidding software.

Bids from all three sources were coming in fast and furious during the typewriter auction, and I actually don’t remember the starting price or the number of steps. I do recollect that, after a certain point, it seemed like the contest had come down to two bidders who kept one-upping one another. I had decided that my maximum bid would be $7,500, so, at a certain point where there seemed to be a lull, I nervously “shot my wad” with a bid of that amount, fully expecting that one of the two other bidders would quickly outbid me. To my great surprise, there were no other bids and I won the auction.

I have to confess that I didn’t fully understand the concept of a “buyer’s premium,” so my so-called maximum of $7,500 turned into $9,600 when that was included in the tally. I’m still paying it off on my credit card.

JKP: What do you know about Chandler’s use of this typewriter now in your possession? And where has this typewriter been for the last half century? Has it been publicly displayed, or in someone's private collection, hidden from sight?

MC: The typewriter was willed to Jean Vounder-Davis, who was Chandler’s secretary during the final years of his life. Her daughter, Sybil Davis, received it after her mother passed and she is the one who put it and all the other items in the collection up for auction. She shared this with me in e-mail correspondence after the auction:

Congratulations on now owning the typewriter that Ray Chandler used to write Playback, his last novel, as well as his personal correspondence, short stories, and even some poetry. I’m sure having it will bring you much satisfaction, joy, and perhaps inspiration.

Did you know that Chandler once compared it to an Italian racing car? He was not a “touch typist.” He preferred the “hunt and peck” system using only his two index fingers. …

I … observed him using it on a daily basis. I even have some of his stories, letters and poetry that were typed on the Olivetti.

JKP: Will you actually be using Chandler’s typewriter in your work?

MC: I discovered that, through lack of use, the mechanism is pretty gummed up and some of the rubber parts have failed. Also, the carriage return has broken off (perhaps because Chandler liked to fling the carriage back with hard-boiled authority?). I have taken the machine to an expert repairman and he assures me he can get it back into tiptop shape.

(Left) Mark Coggins—only a temporary “steward” of this Chandler souvenir?

I expect to use it minimally—perhaps to compose a few paragraphs of works in progress. I drafted my first few stories on a typewriter, so it will be fun to go back to the old-school way of writing.

Ultimately, I would like to donate the typewriter to an institution that can preserve it and enable others to see it. I’m already in discussion with the Bancroft Library.

JKP: Have you collected relics from the careers of other crime novelists? Hammett, perhaps—I know you are interested in him, too.

MC: Yes, in addition to my full set of Hammett firsts, I had a signature card from him. I donated this to the Bancroft with the other items.