Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Red Dragon

Red Dragon
by Thomas Harris

Red Dragon is a fascinating book that takes the unusual step of getting into the killer's POV early and often. The unique narrative gives the reader greater insight into Francis Dolarhyde's motivations and beliefs, and at times almost paints him as a sympathetic character. However, that very structure makes the novel a little unsatisfying in some ways.

Compared to some other killers in fiction, Dolarhyde is a nuanced character. He undergoes some change throughout the course of the book and has a fleshed out history. He fits many of the profiles for serial killers (childhood trauma, sexual repression, sadism, etc.) but the change in his character when he meets Reba starts to unravel his perception of himself. It was an interesting way to take a more or less stock "serial killer" character and turn him into an actual person, with actual emotions and relationship issues. It was as though not only did the reader learn that Dolarhyde was more than just a cardboard cutout of a monster, so did Dolarhyde.

What was unsatisfying about it was the way he went right back to where he started. He sees Reba with another man and snaps, and all the tension from his character building arc abruptly stops. The scene between him and Reba in his house near the end of the novel sort of worked, until it turned out that he was merely faking the whole thing as a way of escaping capture. What previously looked like real emotional trauma turned out to be fake, and the fact that the reader didn't get to see Dolarhyde preparing for this switcharoo (where previously we had a front row seat to his side of the story) felt like a cheat. It really undermined a lot of the other work that had been done on that character.

Will Graham is also an interesting character, and his ability to mirror the thinking patterns of others is pretty fascinating. Harris does a great job with the reasons that sort of ability would be more of a curse than a gift - particularly given Graham's line of work. It's odd how he feels that being able to empathize with a killer makes him a villain as well -- an uncomfortable line of thinking, considering we're writers trying to train ourselves to do the very same thing.

I'm not going to say much about Lecter in this post, mostly because I'll have more about him when we watch Silence of the Lambs. One thing that does fascinate me about him is the way he was handled in the film version of Red Dragon, released in 2002. He gets a much bigger role in the film,  acting as an advisor to Graham, presumably to parallel the relationship he later develops with Starling.  He's really quite a minor character in Red Dragon, but he's definitely the breakout of the group, and it's neat to see him retroactively become a major character in that version of the story.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

The Church of Dead Girls


The Church of Dead Girls
by Stephen Dobyns


Spoilers ahoy -- don't read this 'till you finish the novel.

Stephen Dobyns’ haunting story of a town ripping itself apart in the aftermath of children disappearing was a great read. The horror was subtle for the most part, although there was enough graphic descriptions of sex and violence (particularly toward the end) to keep a veteran horror reader interested.

There are, to my mind, two ‘psychos’ in this novel. The first, and perhaps least interesting of the two, is the primary antagonist, revealed at the novel’s conclusion to be Donald Malloy. I say uninteresting because of the rather cut and dried depiction of his insanity--at the end of the novel he has become quite unhinged (rather suddenly, I might add) and spills his whole story out in one great swoop. And it all fits together rather neatly. His pedophilia and deranged attitude toward sex leads him to fixate on hands, specifically the left or ‘bad’ hand (interesting side note: the Latin for left, sinistra, is the root for the English word “sinister”. There are lots of theories as to why this is: a popular explanation is that prior to the widespread use of toilet paper, the right hand was used for eating and the left for cleaning up waste). Several of his victims were simply people who knew that he had unusual sexual appetites. It was a little too simple for me. It reminded me of episodes of CSI, where the cop tosses off a casual explanation for the crimes and kind of shrugs. I expected a deeper pathology, particularly after that much build up.
   
The reveal that Donald was the kidnapper/murderer was disappointing not just because of the clinical way in which the madness was treated, but also in the way he abruptly becomes insane. Whereas previously he is a ‘professional man’ who seems perfectly able to go about his business and blend in with society, the moment the reader realizes he is the bad guy he becomes an irrational boogie man that literally carries body parts around with him and basically commits suicide-by-cop. I was left wondering how on earth someone that far gone could have remained hidden as long as he did.
   
The second and substantially more interesting disturbed character is the nameless narrator. I suspected him throughout the novel (and so did the other characters, which was fun). It was clear that the author was playing with the expectations of the reader throughout, and I very much wanted something to come of the little quirks revealed throughout the book about him. Ultimately I was very disappointed by the ending. His open admission of defiling the corpse of Donald was, in my mind, unnecessary. The line from the psychic who departed the city, saying the hand was now in “a jar among other jars” was brilliant. I literally stopped reading and put the book down for a moment to savor that one line and everything that it insinuated. If he'd stopped there it would have been fantastic. But to have the narrator admit that it was him shortly afterward ruined the effect.
   
The story of the novel really wasn’t about either of these two characters, though. The story was about the town and a host of other people who live there, told under the backdrop of these crimes. There was a lot going on in the book; too much at times. I agree with reviews that have accused the book of having too many characters and spending more time than necessary on description and exposition. The narrator was fun to read about, but seemed to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the town and its residents. Many scenes contained far more detail than the narrator could plausibly have heard from the other characters, particularly in scenes with characters who had an avowed dislike of the narrator (Ryan Tavich springs to mind).
   
All in all I enjoyed this novel. It was an interesting story, and well told. This is the first novel I’ve read by this author, and I will certainly read more of his work.