If you read Hammett's other Continental Op books and stories you become rather befuddled by how he became such a titanic figure in noir. He's officious, just as judgmental and snotty as any more classical detective, and lacks any kind of style at all. Then you read Red Harvest and you get it. It isn't just that the character is ruthless, its that the whole world is soaked in viciousness, ugliness, madness, hatred, hatred, hatred. It's a delicious book and it tastes like a slug of cheap liquor. It isn't the Continental Op who is judgmental, who sees the world as a sluice of corruption and stupidity - it's Hammett, and it's perfect.