He invented it. He was neither prolific nor inventive. His seven novels all rework previous inventions. But what emerged from the process is a whole much larger than the sum of its parts. No place is boring in Philip Marlowe's world.
Nothing is unimportant.
Each place energizes the work, and Chandler's novels would be diminished if anything were removed. The people who live in Marlowe's world are equally inextricable. There is no elevator operator who merely runs the car and no thug who provides only menace. All the characters imply a life beyond the novel. For all its romantic luster, his prose is without ornament.