Arabella of Mars

      I'm switching gears and exploring some fiction outside the typical adult dark stuff I usually read. So, I'm taking a trip into Ya for a bit. The first YA title I'm reviewing is Arabella of Mars by David D. Levine. I had high hopes for this steampunk/regency romance adventure tale. The protagonist shares a name with my youngest daughter and my current WIP is a dark steampunk novel, so I felt this had to be a sign I would love this book. I must admit, I'm a bit conflicted on this one. The parts I enjoyed were not the steampunk elements and there was much I found in the work that was a chore to get through. Spoiler warning from here on out.

       Arabella of Mars has a brutally slow start. Our protagonist goes from restricted wealthy girl to mascaraing as captain's boy about a sky skip  in a streamline manner that lacks building tension. The pieces of the plot are in place and yet somehow they feel like an empty recount of events. It feels as if Levine is getting this opening act out of the way to get to the part of the story that interests him.

        Arabella goes through the motions in the first act, forced from one situation to another. the other characters seem to act in a similar manner. Simon's sudden jump into a murderous plot feels unnatural and paints him as rather flat. It takes only a tiny mention from Arabella that he can travel to Mars quickly and cheaply to spur him into villain mode. Even the "trying to provide for his wife and baby" motivation feels false, as he comes off as uncaring overall. He's the bad guy, pure and simple. Likewise, Captain Singh's motivation is off. I can't imagine a captain chasing down a destitute looking kid for miles through London simply because he thinks this kid might possibly hold some promise in automata repair, merely by hearing her talk about it. He chases her and accept her into the crew because he has to for the story to progress, not for any actual motivation.

       The second act is the seafaring - I mean spacefaring- journey from Earth to Mars. This had your standard adventure on a ship sort of events: Arabella working to be accepted by the rest of the crew, a battle with pirates, a necessary stop on an island- errrr, I mean asteroid, and a failed mutiny. This part wasn't bad, per say, only expected for the most part. It felt like the standard ship journey plot lines thinly veiled with the steampunk technology elements. Instead of on the high seas, this was in space.

        At several points, the technology/science of how the ship and space flight worked hijacked the story and there were long spans of this middle act that were more about how 'cool' the concept for the tech was over characters or plot. The details of how the ship functioned became cumbersome fast. This may be a personal preference, but when I read sci-fi I detest when a story becomes a survey of how hypothetical technology could work rather than a character's journey. Besides the rather awkward romance building between Arabella and the captain, much of this middle act could have been cut down and simplified to speed up the pace of the story.

       Here's the kicker, the third act was interesting and a unique take on the space cowboy type vibe. A tried and true plot line in this act as in the former two. this time, the plot focuses on the indigenous inhabits being offending by the actions of the intrusive ranchers and  settlers who have claimed the territory. It leads to a violent war between the two cultures with our brave heroine the only one capable of bringing the two groups to peace. The creative world building and unique martian culture works to give this old plot structure a breath of new life enough to pull in readers. I was a tad disappointed that the unique culture and environment of Mars wasn't explored as much as I would have liked (Levine seemed to be far more interested in how the ship sailed that how the people in the destination lived) but it was still a satisfying act to read. Simon reprises his role as the villain in the climax, which still comes off as wooden and annoying, but he serves his purpose. The end sets up nicely for the next book in the series.

        Overall, it wasn't a horrible book but not something that grabs my attention. The story felt like more of a way for Levine to explore the idea of space travel that he created rather than about the characters. Perhaps it just wasn't for me, but might appeal to others.

Poe's Psychos

No survey of psychos in fiction would be complete with a glimpse into the works of Edgar Allen Poe. He is also one of my personal favorite authors that inspired me as a child to start writing. Some of his most renowned stories feature an unreliable narrator that has all the trademarks of a psychopath. The Tell-Tale Heart, The Black Cat, and The Cask of Amontillado are prime examples of Poe’s work with psychopaths.

The Tell-Tale Heart was the first story I ever read that made me fall in love with unreliable narrators. By today’s standards, many people might find it slow and the language a bit to antiquated to keep up with the high tension fiction on the market. However, it’s hard to ignore how masterful Poe is in creating the first person narrator as someone the reader instantly mistrusts. This mistrust pulls the reader through the story. That’s not to say the reader feels the narrator is lying to them. Rather, there is a keen awareness that the narrator believes he is sane when his version of what happen blatantly disproves that. Readers know it is impossible he actually heard the heart beating under the floorboards, yet the narrator states it as a fact.

The Black Cat has a narrator with a similar feel. We trust his sanity a touch more, at first at least. A decent man turned sour by alcoholism, this narrator tells his story in a manner to imply a supernatural cause to his downfall. Still, at several points, his irrationality at the cruel and violent outbursts strikes the reader as something crazier. Furthermore, his casualness at killing his wife, who he states was a good woman, makes the reader question how honest he has been about his good nature at the beginning of the story.

In The Cask of Amontillado, the narrator has thought out his murderous plan well with a clear motive. His target has insulted him in the past. What makes this narrator a psycho is the way he is enacting his revenge. Rather than address the insult directly or cut Fortunato out of his life, the narrator chooses to pretend to be fake friends with the man for an extended period so he can lure him to a cruel death. Someone has to exceedingly unfeeling and at least a bit insane to take an insult to that extreme of revenge.

Reading these stories together, it’s impossible to ignore the repeated themes and plot points Poe used. The first two stories had an eye as a significant part of the psychos focus, one driving him to kill the other plucked out as an unprovoked act of violence. In the last two stories the victim was bricked up in a wall, one alive and one deceased. Has anyone checked Poe’s walls for corpses? In all three shorts, the narrator was nice to the victim and held a rather uncaring view of that person up until their death. In all three the killer was overconfident that they wouldn’t be caught. It begs the question if Poe himself was a bit psychotic and these stories were his not-so-hidden desires.

Overall, these stories are classic. They are older, so the language can be slightly off-putting, but still well worth a read. They are short enough for one to read while waiting at the doctor’s office, yet memorable enough that they remain in the popular conscious today. Definitely read or re-read them.

The Killing Joke Graphic Novel

I’ve been a fan of Batman since I was a kid. Actually, I’ve been a fan of the Batman villains since I was a kid. I don’t read many comic and I wasn’t interested in much of the superhero type stories, but something about Batman’s antagonists drew me in. They are colorful, and, more importantly, psychologically interesting. Each nemesis is clearly insane in their own unique way to contrast and compare Batman’s instability as a costume wearing vigilante. But for this post, I’m going to focus on just one of those villains. My personal favorite, the Joker presented at his delightfully psychotic best in The Killing Joke by Alan Moore and Brain Bolland.

The character of the Joker had gone through many incarnations since he arrived on the scene

Such a happy fellow

in the early 1940’s, from corny gag villain to extreme chaos spreading murderer. Many feel The Killing Joke is the definitive Joker story, with good reason. Not only is the Joker in full sadistic and psychotic glory in this piece but he is also shown with a tragic origin story to add a touch of sympathy to the character. Though the truth of the origin story is debatable by his statement, “Sometimes I remember it one way, sometimes another ... If I'm going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice!” the sad backstory still hits enough emotionally to make the Joker’s actions in the present story feel even more disturbing.

The origin story not only makes the Joker a more dimensional character in this piece, but beefs up the theme. The Joker’s “one bad day” that drove him to lunacy is the inspiration for the message he is trying to convey in paralyzing Barbara Gordon and torturing her father, the Commissioner. He intends to prove it only takes one day of traumatic events to draw out the dormant insanity in every man. Gordon manages to remain sane, proving the Joker’s belief false, but this one bad day idea has more to do with the Joker’s relationship with Batman that it does Gordon. The message reflects Batman’s origin story in a twisted way. The one night that Bruce Wayne lost his parents drove him to become the crime-fighting, cape-wearing Batman, so truly it was only one bad day that changed each of them into their current forms. Yet Batman still manages to hold on to some of his sanity and can survive in everyday society as Bruce Wayne. The Joker has lost all hope in recovering any of his lost sanity or rejoining society, as he explains in his final joke.

Just brutal

No review of this story would be complete without discussing the fridging of Barbara Gordon, A.K.A. Batgirl. As much as I love the themes and dynamic between Batman and the Joker in The Killing Joke, the treatment of Barbara will always bother me. Her whole role in the story is as a plot device without showing her a person. Her injury drives Batman to have a more emotional reason to confront the Joker and is used by the Joker as part of his plot. Even more frustrating, unlike countless other comic stories where a male hero is badly injured, Barbara doesn’t make a full recovery. She will always be paralyzed. Though she is later revised as Oracle in the DC universe, this is still an unjust and cruel end for the strong female character of Batgirl.

Fridging is one of my personally most hated tropes. The story needs some plot device that will ensure the hero takes action, so they add in a female character to maim/torture/kill/depower that is close to the protagonist to give him reason to confront the antagonist. This shrinks the female character’s worth to only what she meant to the male characters instead of her being a person in her own right. I could go on for hours about the treatment of Barbara in this story from a feminist perspective but I’m going to halt here as there are dozens of blogs and articles that explore this topic in depth. It was a bad choice for the story and stains the brilliance of the piece.

This story has an ambiguous ending, another thing I highly enjoy in fiction. After Joker’s final joke where he basically explains his perspective for refusing Batman’s offer of rehabilitation, the panels show both characters sharing a good laugh and then pan down to the rain puddles at their feet. When I first read this book many years ago, I believed Batman kills the Joker out of frame. It made sense for the title The Killing Joke and explained why the laughing stopped all of the sudden. Batman offered a truce, the Joker refused, so Batman had no other option but to kill him.

Since then I’ve considered a couple of other possible endings. It doesn’t fit with Batman’s moral code to kill the Joker. He always strives to restrain all the criminals he encounters so

Everyone loves a good joke

that they receive justice in the court system. At this point, I’m more inclined to believe the ending shows that nothing has changed in their dynamic. It is more like the relationship has been reset. In the opening, Batman feels a mounting tension to defuse their growing rivalry. The Joker gives him just cause to hit that final battle where one of them kills the other, but it doesn’t come to that head. Instead, Gordon wants him brought in “by the book.” Batman makes his rehabilitation offer, the Joker refuses, and they share a laugh at the futility of their situation. After this moment, they go back to the dynamic of hero and villain from before the story. The opening and closing panels of rain falling on the ground helps to solidify the circle as the end is the same as the beginning.

Overall, this is a much hyped story for a reason. If you can work your way past Barbara’s fridging, there is a meaty story here with deep themes and wonderfully done creepy images. The Joker shines as a true psycho. If you are a fan of the character this is a must read. 

Joy Ride

After reading so many unique takes on psychos recently, it is somewhat jarring to read about a more average variety of serial killer psycho. In Jack Ketchum’s novel, Joyride, Wayne Lock is a realistic psycho in that he hits all the marks for the kind of killer police encounter on a regular basis. He’s a loner, unable to connect with others, and infatuated with killing. I wouldn’t count him among the Lecter types in regards to intelligence or the Sculptor for murderous creativity. He’s your average psychopath that gets the final push he needs to go on a killing spree. Sadly, I found the overall book mirrored the character – violent but average.

This ride starts with Lee and Carole, who feel there is no way out from the continued abuse of Carole’s ex except to murder him. Unfortunately, Wayne is watching and decides that if they can do it, he can finally break through his hesitation and commit murder too. He forces the couple on a road trip killing spree. I’ve been rolling this book over in my head for several days trying to figure out why it came off as merely an ok book for me. It’s a quick, easy read, the characters aren’t entirely flat, and the plot was well executed. All the pieces fit into place and yet I felt resoundingly meh about it.

I felt Wayne was a solid psycho, even with the overly done cliché background of childhood abuse and Mommy issues. His sexual excitement regarding killing is disturbing, especially considering this is a fairly accurate representation of many real life rape and murder serial killers. Yet, I wouldn’t say he scared me. I think that perhaps Lee and Carole cooled off the fear for me. I didn’t feel they had a genuinely loving relationship, in fact it felt like killing Carole’s ex was an attempt at mending their broken love affair. If Carole was as wealthy as the book made her sound, why didn’t they simply move away or go on  long vacation to get away from the ex? They seemed like rich snobs that blocked out any real emotion with alcohol. I had a hard time really feeling for them. The detective had more of a sympathetic view of Carole than I did. Since I didn’t like them, I wasn’t terrified for them while Wayne waved a gun in their faces.

The plot is a straightforward journey, without any real twists and turns. I didn’t get any shocking surprises that shook me up and drove me to care. It’s set up early on how the book will end. That’s not to say the plot is bad, just expected. If I were reading this simply to occupy a lazy day, I probably wouldn’t take issue with it. Personally, I enjoy reading books that take me off the standard course and veer off to someplace I wouldn’t have guessed it was headed.

There were several points that I just felt were conveniently built in to serve the story. For example, Carole reminds the detective of his recent ex, whom he’s not completely over yet, who was also abused by her former husband. This makes the cop emotional invested in the case. That felt contrived to me to give him a reason to be in the story above just doing his job. I get it; the plot has to move forward so things have to fall together. However, much of it felt forced in this book.

Overall, this isn’t a bad book. If you are looking for some reading that doesn’t require you to focus much on it, this will satisfy. If you’re craving a book that is more the average, possibly leave this one for another evening.

Se7en

Everyone has their favorite films that they watch ad nauseam to the irritation of everyone else in the household. A common showing after the kids go to bed in this house is Seven (also known as Se7en), much to the dismay of my squeamish about horror movies husband. Although he never fails to ask dramatically, “what’s in the box?” when a package arrives, so I doubt he dislikes the movies as much as he insists. This 1995 film delivers what I like to think of as an unapologetic view into the life’s work of a truly calculating and petrifying psycho.

Near retirement detective Somerset (Morgan Freeman) teams up with the new transfer, Mills

Strike a serious detective pose

(Brad Pitt) to solve a series of horrific murders that have the common theme of the 7 deadly sins. Like many stories featuring detectives, our protagonists have personal struggles they are dealing with while they delve deeper into the case. Somerset is contemplative of his upcoming life change from detective to retiree. Mills is adjusting to the move and ambitious to make a name for himself in the new department. Mills wife is trying to figure out what to do about her pregnancy, which she has kept secret from her husband, as she feels the city would be a bad place to raise a child. These personal character arcs seamlessly support the main plot rather than distract. They also help flesh out Somerset and Mills personalities in the time restrictive format of a fast paced thriller type movie.

Gore can be a tricky element to handle in psycho horror. Too much and you enter the realm of “gore porn” in which the carnage becomes almost laughable in it’s over exposure. Too little blood and guts and the story might become lack luster, feeling like the psychological tension building never reaches a payoff.  Seven handles the gore brilliantly.

The killer, John Doe (Kevin Spacey), has spent a great deal of effort and time perfectly setting

At least he used some air fresheners

his murder scenes to express his message. Therefore, these visuals aren’t skimmed over as they are vital to the plot and theme of the film. The murder scenes are disturbing and hit the audience exactly as they should. Viewers feel appalled with Doe’s “work” while becoming fascinated with how Doe patiently executed and thoroughly planned out the serial killings. In this manner, each crime scene is brutal with purpose. None of what is shown comes off as needless violence shown for pure shock value, as the details of Doe’s murders are vital to the plot.

My love of symbolism won’t allow me to neglect discussing how Doe preaches his message through the murders. While many, if not most, killers follow a pattern when killing, Doe uses a different and specific method for each of the sins. Each murder technique (and torture technique in the case of Sloth) is tailored to use the very idea of the sin to kill the victim, like over-eating to the point of death for Gluttony. The only common clue connecting them for the detectives is the name of the sin found at each scene. This is the best serial killer message execution I can think of in fiction. It’s impossible not to understand Doe’s intent is to show the 7 deadly sins are alive and well in modern society.

The ending of this film still has people reeling 20 years later. Generally, people expect psycho

If you're going to surrender, do it in style

stories to end with the protagonist besting the killer in some manner. All of the stories we have reviewed this term have followed that structure (American Psycho excluded). This is to return the audience from their terrifying experience in the story back to safe reality. The boogeyman has been conquered and now the audience can go back to sleeping at night. That’s not how this film wraps up. Although Doe dies, making him incapable of killing again, he completes his work and message by adding the last two sins. The idea that a psycho can finish all his intended targets off  leaves the audience apprehensive.

Many people dislike stories where the villain(s) wins in the end. They might feel jibbed as they have been rooting for the protagonist(s) throughout the story. That is understandable. In Seven, Doe completes his 7 deadly sins including himself as Envy and Mills as Wrath. He’s victorious in bringing his message to fruition. More alarming, the audience realizes he has been in control of the situation the entire film. Everything went according to his plan. The detectives never caught him, he

Caution Fragile

surrendered. He led them out to the exact spot at the exact time his package was set to arrive. He provoked Mills into doing exactly as he wanted. The iconic line, “what’s in the box?!?!” is that clear moment when the audience realizes the story isn’t the safe controlled variety and the psycho has been at the helm through it all. Personally, I love this sort of hard hitting ending. It’s this break from the standard structure that makes the film the classic it is.

Overall, this is a must see. It’s a uniquely chilling story, with an unforgettable psycho, and amazing acting performances. Grab a comfort item if you’re squeamish and prepare to be haunted by this film far after the credits have finished.

Taxi Driver

            There’s a long list of unforgettable emotionally unstable cinematic characters, but among the top of that list is Travis Bickle. If you don’t recognize the name, the line “Are you talking to me?” will probably jog your memory. The infamous Bickle from Scorsese’s 1976 classic Taxi Driver is still fascinating audiences 40 years since the movie debuted. There much to love about this film, especially De Niro’s portray of the lonely cabbie spiraling down into a delusional break with reality.

            The plot of Taxi Driver is simple. Vietnam veteran Travis Bickle picks up a job as a night time taxi driver which fuels his perceptions of New York City as a demented Hell hole. After he is rejected by a campaign worker he is infatuated with, Bickle becomes increasing unhinged. He plans to assassinate the campaign worker’s candidate, but once that fails, he ends up saving an under aged prostitute through a blood bath instead. The irony at the end is that Bickle is praised as a hero for saving the prostitute when, had he been successful at the campaign rally earlier, he would have been labelled a villain. This makes an interesting point about society, violence is viewed by not the mental/emotional state of the person committing it, but by the people it is aimed at. Since Bickle killed the “bad guys” his actions are not only acceptable, they are perceived as brave. Had he killed the “good guy” politician, his action would have been seen as cowardly and wrong. Either way, the fact remains that Bickle was unstable to the point he was going to kill someone.

            The plot itself isn’t the highlight of this film. The actual pacing of the movie is somewhat slow and choppy, but that is because this movie is about the character not the action. De Niro’s Bickle captivates, as he should considering the movie is more about his insights. De Niro is brilliant, there is no denying that. I think Bickle also fascinates us because we only get a present view of his life. A common element to most stories containing a psychotic type killer is to explore the background events of the life that created them. Bickle’s backstory is blank. No flashbacks to his time in the war. The audience doesn’t even know what job he had  in the marines. There is also nothing about his childhood. The note he writes on a card to his parents only shows the audience that he is detached from them enough to lie about his life in order to keep them away. All the audience has are the thoughts at present during the film, which makes him an enigma.

            This is a “show, don’t tell” sort of film in that manner. The audience is shown his decent, and all the pieces of his everyday life that pile on to lead up to the brutal mass murder at the end, but they are never told why Bickle saw the world so negatively in the first place. Loneliness and the desire for connection, especially romantic, are a theme that drives Bickle to the end of his rope. As much as he hates the view of the streets from his cab, he also longs for the companionship he witnesses. It’s a brilliant inner tension battle for a character; he both wants to be included in society while loathing it at the same time.

This push and pull is the main conflict of the film. His failed attempt at a relationship with Betsy, the campaign worker, causes him to think of her as just like everyone else, meaning he lumps her in with the rest of the depraved and selfish people he sees the rest of society as. Iris, the twelve year old prostitute, he becomes attached to because although she is one of the street walking sort he detests, he believes he can save her from that. That fact that she doesn’t reject him, actually he rejects her advances, makes Bickle feel like she is a special case.

The film wraps up on a surreal note. Having killed three people, Bickle survives to be announced as a hero by the media and Iris’s parents. He resumes his taxi work, picking up Betsy. She seems to have a renewed interest in him now that the papers have labeled him a hero. Bickle seems to bury the hatchet but doesn’t pursue her affections. There is some talk that this is all Bickle’s fantasy as he dies at the shootout, which the writer and director deny.

Personally, my interpretation is that these events actually happen in the end. However, it isn’t the happy ending it seems at first. For one thing, Bickle has gotten away with murder. He may seem better in his emotional and mental state, but the paranoia still lies beneath. He is distant from Betsy, which means he is no closer to intimacy than before. In the final moments of the film, his eyes in the rearview mirror still look upon the streets with a mix of disgust and fear. If anything, the shootout reset the ticking time bomb and he will inevitably go off again.

Overall, this is a classic film for a reason. It may seem slow at points, as this a highly character driven story, but well worth the viewing. The acting is exception, specifically De Niro’s performance. If you haven’t seen it, or seen it recently, it’s time to give this movie a watch.

Helter Skelter

            I don’t believe Charles Manson and his infamous Family needs any introduction. As far as serial killers go, Manson is probably the most recognizable name. Even people who know little to nothing of famous killers have heard of Manson. To get a deeper look at the story of the Tate/LaBianca murders and the Manson cult, Helter Skelter: The True Story of The Manson Murders by Vincent Bugliosi with Curt Gentry is an enlightening read. It should also come with a wall length corkboard and push pins for the reader to construct a visual diagram of all the information packed into this volume.

            Multiple books, interviews, documentaries, blogs, and movies tackle the story of Manson, his followers, and the murders. Each source offers a different perspective on the topic. This book is authored by the DA that prosecuted Manson and the three girls involved in the murders. It comes as no surprise then that the book is structured from the perspective of building a case against Manson, Atkins, Krenwinkel, and Van Houten. The details of the crime scenes, pieces of interviews conducted by the authorities regarding the case, and the details of the court proceedings are thoroughly explored. For anyone interested in the case, this book is a wealth of knowledge. It’s downright addicting as the reader gets to help construct, through Bugliosi, how the murders occurred and the warped lives of the Manson Family.

            This flood of information is a much as a negative as it a positive. The list of names at the beginning of the book is only one small sample of how much knowledge the reader is going to drown in. There is no way to keep track of everyone. At some point, the reader will have to figure out who this person is that just took the stand. The name is familiar, but there were dozens of people mentioned by this point in the book. The time frame the Tate’s maid washed down the windows with vinegar is discussed. The backgrounds of each person involved, including such players as the two inmates that Susan Atkins told she was involved in the murders. Dates, times, and police slip-ups; all documented and ready to be waded through by the reader. This is a book that begs for the reader to take notes while reading it, or utilize their giant cork board. Simply put, this is not a lite, easy read.

The work includes the thoughts and assumptions of Bugliosi, which adds a nice personal touch to the text. Bugliosi isn’t overly preachy; however he does make it clear what he thinks of the people he encounters during the investigation/case. This made the book a bit more accessible. Instead of a dry reading of a case file, this had tid-bits that provided a tone for the story. His impressions, especially of the girls, and his openness about the often problematic way the police handled the investigation gave a sense of informalness to an otherwise formal recount of the events. At the same time, Bugliosi is obviously presenting his take on the case. The exact happenings at Spahn Ranch and the Family dynamics are his interpretations. The book therefore lacks any other viewpoints (interviews aside) besides Bugliosi and the facts of the matter.

As to the psychos of the book, Manson and his murderous followers, the text gives interesting insight into these people. Backgrounds, interviews, and outrageous courtroom antics are all recorded.  The Family’s vision of the future by a Helter Skelter race war is pieced together throughout Bugliosi’s investigation. As far as hooking the reader, this is the real kicker. The murders were savage, but the bizarre scheme that motivated them still captures the public. Although the book isn’t able to take us into the cult fully, Bugliosi does a fantastic job bringing up all the relevant disturbing activities/fantasies of the Family. It’s chilling.

I’m torn on how much I want to delve into my thoughts on Manson and the Family for this blog post. Honestly, I could keep a blog devoted solely to the topic and never run out of things to write. However, I also want to keep my focus on the book I’m reviewing and not wander too much to the overall topic behind it. So, I’ll briefly mention a couple of my own curiosities on the case and what Begliosi mentions of them.

There is much debate over whether Manson’s followers were mindless slaves to his will or willing participants. I got the impression from this book that Begliosi believed Manson had completely brainwashed his followers, yet they already had the potential for violence before meeting him. To a degree, I feel the same. However, I don’t think Manson is the mastermind that he is usually portrayed as. He strikes me a brilliant manipulator, but I think the people that surrounded him helped to build the Helter Skelter fantasy. I think they weren’t so much slaves as they were under the influence of a frenzied group delusion with Manson as the messiah.

Was the evidence of the trail enough to prove guilt or did the media hype of the murders and the defendants lead to a guilty verdict without enough substantial proof? This question has always fascinated me. I feel there is enough evidence to prove the family is involved in the murders, but besides a few fingerprints of one suspect and the gun (which could have been in anyone from the ranch’s possession), much of the case was built on testimony. It’s hard to sift out the truth from the lies in this case.

The book does give a through explanation as to how the DA built their case. A lot more evidence was used than I previously thought, but I’m still not fully convinced it was enough on its own. The ineffective attorneys for the defense and the outbursts of the defendants were an evident perk for the DA’s case. I still wonder if Manson and the others had run a better defense, if Bugliosi would have gotten the conviction. Several times in the text, Bugliosi points out instances, like Krenwinkel denying to give a writing sample, that could have lead to the defendants freed of charges or at least reduced sentences.

Overall, this is a book for those that want to get a deeper view into the Manson murders. It’s a long read, but one packed with interesting information on the case that will keep pages turning. Devote some time to this one. Prepare to be inspired to do more research and spend a chunk of your life boarding on obsession over the case… and don’t forget the big board to plaster all your notes on.

Misery

Misery was the second novel I read from Stephan King, after Carrie (still have a soft spot for that one). As an adolescent, I felt I resonated way more with the plot and characters in Carrie than I did of Misery. That’s not to say Misery didn’t scare the pants off of me, it certainly did, just that I wasn’t at a place in my life to appreciate the book the way I am now. Reading it again, I have a greater appreciate for this work. This is one of those King novels that are classic for a damn good reason.

Plot wise is book is about the author of a popular romance series, Paul Sheldon, finding himself trapped by his mentally ill, sadistic “number one fan”, Anne Wilkes, after a car crash. She gets him addicted to meds while she nurses him and tortures him (yeah, heal and hurt dished out by the same warped character) while demanding he bring her favorite romance character, Misery Chastain, back to life in a new novel written just for her. Seems straightforward enough. A tense situation ripe of all manner of horror to play out.

King is brilliant in the way he presents the story through Paul’s perspective. There was never a point that I felt the tension was dipping by having just the two main characters together in a limited space. I found Paul to be a highly engaging character, though perhaps the fact I’m a writer might make me a bit bias. It’s easy to feel for Paul’s plight, and in turn, feel invested in his wellbeing. The setting added fuel to the fire as the isolated and trapped sensation makes the reader feel desperate for Paul to escape.

Truly impressive is the book’s psycho, Anne Wilkes. She is believable in a way many fictional psychos aren’t, she’s unpredictable. While most fictional psychos are given a tragic backstory to explain their motives for killing, Anne is simply a killer. Her mental instabilities are probably genetic more so that created by a tragic past. Anne Wilkes isn’t becoming a killer, she just is one. In fact, she doesn’t see anything wrong with what she is doing. She sees herself as a good person doing the best she can in the world, which makes her all the more terrifying. King crafts a character that is believably suffering from multiple mental illnesses. At the same time, she is generally unaware she has severe problems. She thinks this is just a part of who she is, a part of her personality.

I also liked how King gave her a common sense sort of intelligence (no fancy psychology Dr. Lecter type here). Anne is smart; she ensures Paul is dependent on her by setting up his drug addiction and his need for food/care from her right at the beginning of the kidnapping. No frills, no toying with her prey. Anne knows what she wants and takes the best direct route to get it, even if that is through a foot or a thumb. She has a hearty sort of intellect that is far too often misunderstood as being simple. As a small side note, Kathy Bates does an amazing job of capturing the character in the film.

There is another dimension of this book that I didn’t grasp in my teenage reading. The whole story can be seen as symbolic of an author’s journey writing a novel, with many parts of the story directly reflecting King’s struggles at the time he wrote it. Anne Wilkes is Paul Sheldon’s biggest fan, but she also represents the harshness of readers in a more general respect. Anne punishes Paul severely for trying to break out of his genre, much like what happens quite often with established writers. Anne demands Paul doesn’t take shortcuts with his writing and insists the story be everything she expects while also being something that isn’t stereotypical. Readers can be unforgiving and demanding. As much as Paul is afraid of displeasing Anne, he is also addicted to not only the drugs but writing the story. I willing to wager that most writers feel at least a smidgen of fear regarding what their audience will think of their work, and yet we are driven to do it anyways. I could go on and on about how much I related to this side of the story as a writer, but I’m sure you get the point.

Overall, like all of King’s classics, this is a great read for any horror fan. As fantastic as the movie is, the book is still superior. Well worth settling in and devouring a page at a time.

The Silence of the Lambs

After the Lecter appetizer in Red Dragon, I dove into film The Silence of the Lambs (1991) with an appetite for a terrifying and startling psycho. I have seen the movie before, numerous times, but watching it again with more attention to how the story works brought me another perspective. This movie is even more impressive once it is viewed with a critical lens.

The portrayal of the FBI was solid. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not an expert on FBI/Police work, but everything in this film felt real. Not just the basic protocol or tools of investigation, but the interactions between the authority characters. There is some tension between local police and the FBI in almost a bit of a territorial manner. I would expect this is true to some degree in the field. The FBI, especially Crawford, uses every possible advantage to get information. Crawford essential uses the ambitious Starling as a tactical tool to get Lecter’s cooperation. A fake deal is offered to Lecter, which is countered by Chilton’s deal. A higher degree of politics weaved through this plot than what one might realize if viewing it just for entertainment.

The dog eat dog mentality of many of the characters makes Starling stand out as almost an innocent among the wolves (or in this case, a lamb among those who would slaughter her). Crawford will use any means possible to catch his man and Chilton would do the same to gain notoriety. Starling’s focus is on saving the girl, which gives her a more heroic vibe among the rest of the cast. This is why her interactions with Lecter feel real. He can see the genuine need to protect and rescue that is missing from the other people that have come to consult him. This fascinates Lecter, who lacks the very empathy that is Starling’s defining feature.

Such a polite host

This film features two serial killers. This actually works well to heighten the growing tension and danger in the story. There is a heavy sense of psychological terror in Starling and Lecter’s encounters, while Buffalo Bill is the physical threat. The killers are also beautifully contrasted. For Lecter, killing is a pleasure in and of itself. He has no sympathy for his victims. Buffalo Bill kills for an end product. He purposely dehumanizes his victims, calling them “it” as the killing is a chore to get him what he really wants. Buffalo Bill does have the capability for sympathy but he makes a choice to ignore it. While both are horrific killers, Lecter rises as the more chilling psycho.

The main criticism of this film is typically the presentation of Buffalo Bill as an LBGTQ character. When the film premiered in 1991, positive portrayals of LBGTQ character were rare. I have torn feelings on this. In some ways, this character did seem like he was sending the message that LBGTQ people are mentally ill and potential dangerous. It’s hard to ignore the only character that isn’t straight in this film is a serial killer whose gender orientation/sexuality is one of the greatest motivating factors in why he kills.

Nice nipple ring dude

However, I also don’t think it’s fair to assume that a negative representation was the point for the character’s confused sexuality/gender issues. It is mentioned by Lecter that Buffalo Bill isn’t really transsexual, rather he just hates himself so much he desires to be someone else and being a woman would fulfill that desire. This is vital to the motivation for his murders. He needed to have a reason that made sense in his head for abducting, killing, and skinning his victims for his suit. I know I might get slack for this but I don’t think this is a purposeful jab at the LBGTQ community, just like there are many women or black characters in fiction that may be antagonistic or villainous not because of their gender or skin color but because of their personality and actions. There is more to Buffalo Bill that has led to his warped interpretation of the world.  I’m going to chalk this up to freedom of expression in art, even if I found it personally on the distasteful side for the LBGTQ community.

There are oodles of motifs and themes coursing through this story. The idea of transformation is clear here in Buffalo Bill with the moths. Not only does Bill feel he is transforming into a new form with his suit, but he feels the women he kills are transformed as materials for his purpose. Death is also transformational in other regards, such as for Starling. Her father’s death and her uncle’s slaughter of the spring lambs transformed her from girl into one seeking to save others. Animals as representation of characters appear for both Starling as a lamb and Buffalo Bill as the moth. Lecter’s god complex is visually shown through his treatment of the guards body splayed open and positioned on the cage like an angel. The treatment of women as inferior or objects is repeated through the murders and how Starling is treated throughout the story.

Overall, this film lives up to praise and awards it’s received. It’s visually disturbing at points and hits all the right psychological notes to conjure nightmares. This solid of a tension fueled plot will never become dated. Watch it again, and then again.

Red Dragon

Certain characters rise above the basic idea of a crazed killer to become a pop culture phenomenon. Norman Bates from Psycho has been firmly planted in the minds of the public since the 1960’s as a memorably unique character. However, in more recent pop culture, the idea of a psychotic serial killer is exemplified by one highly intellectual doctor, Hannibal Lecter. Reading his debut in Red Dragon by Thomas Harris, his infamy is easy to recognize, even as a more minor character. With a book this good, it’s impossible not to have iconic characters and a permeant mark on the horror genre to spring forth.

To be clear, Red Dragon has two fascinating psychotic serial killer adversaries for the FBI and Will Graham to contend with. Lecter isn’t the primary threat, as he is locked up securely throughout the course of the story. The Red Dragon (the press initially calls him the Tooth Fairy) is the killer on the loose.

The Dragon is well built as a psycho; a shy man with an extreme case of low self-esteem and body-dysmorphic issues based on his hare-lip. Harris includes a backstory section that gives the reader the opportunity to see how the Dragon grew into the serial killer he is, yet he is careful to leave the tid-bits in the past for the reader to construct for themselves. Specifics on his trauma from his mentally ill grandmother as well as his unloving mother and step family seep into his method of killing and choice of victims. This was done brilliantly to allow the audience the feeling of piecing the Dragon’s mind together themselves. It also created a twinge of sympathy for the man, while building disgust of him by his actions.

At the same time, Harris takes care to give Lecter a chilling sense of mystery. Graham isn’t able to give any more insight into why Lecter kills besides the fact that he enjoys it. Lecter is unnervingly calm and calculating. His interactions with Graham and the Dragon are limited, yet the reader gets the sense he is manipulating some of the action, watching over the other characters and deriving pleasure from the blood spilt. His code to give the Dragon Graham’s home address leads not only to the end demise of the Dragon, but the eventual erosion of Graham’s marriage and physical harm to Graham. Readers can’t help but wonder if Lecter had planned this all along. While the Dragon draws some understanding and a bit of pity from the audience, Lecter is irresistible interesting without explanation. It’s no wonder audiences have been insatiable for the character ever since.

Will Graham is also a well-developed character. The audience instantly identifies with him from the opening scene- a man who has put his demons behind him to have a relaxed family life only to have the past pull him back. I think everyone can sympathize with that, people are often plagued by the past. Readers might identify with him as an empath type character that must confront human violence in its extreme over and over again. He’s not the gloating, glory seeking hero, which is refreshing. His intuition isn’t magical either. There is a whole cast of specialists that add to his natural gut-feeling. The hunt for the Dragon is pieced together a clue at a time, not in a quick accurate succession. Graham does find a way into the killer’s head, but it is hard and painfully won. Although Graham wasn’t the most interesting of the characters (who really can compete with two bizarre psychos?), he does manage to hold his own in the story. I cared about his and his family’s safety enough to feel the tension in the story.

I felt adding in the Reba McClane character to disrupt the killer’s routine was an interesting twist. People expect that psychos have a pattern that is repeated over and over again. Harris explores here what would happen if something occurred in such a life changing way that the pattern is broken. The Dragon has a set ideas of himself and the world, and along comes this beautiful blind woman (careful crafted to be a strong individual and not just some helpless victim) that gives him evidence the world is not as he has assumed. His concerns about his physical appearance don’t matter to her, and he is confronted with a genuinely loving interaction with a woman which he never had expereinced before. Harris splits the Dragon from the man and records the battel between them for the reader. I’m not sure exactly how I feel about this deviation for the killer. While this was an interesting peek into the complicated workings of the killer’s mind, it felt as if we had gotten off track as far as plot goes. Suddenly the next family on the list took a backseat and the possible redemption took over. It also made the surprise attack at the end awkward. The reader now perceives the Dragon as a troubled man, not a soulless killing machine. Having this character ruthlessly attack Graham in the manner he did just didn’t sit completely right with me. For some reason, I felt slightly disappointed.

The investigation felt authentic for the most part. At some points, it did seem that Graham had some special treatment I wasn’t positive he could get, such as being able to wander through the Leedes’ house/crime scene alone and being able to visit Lecter on a whim. However, I honestly have no idea what the FBI is actually capable of, so maybe I’m not the best person to judge the authenticity. Nothing popped out to me to be incredible inaccurate.

I would like to add that in many ways, The Sculptor felt like a poorly executed imitation of this book after examining them side by side.

Overall, this is a great read. Any little slips of head-hopping POV and such are invisible under the strong storytelling. A solid read that anyone who enjoys a good psycho and a creepy story. 

The Sculptor

Nothing is more of a letdown than a book that has a good concept but was executed poorly. The Sculptor by Gregory Funaro is definitely one of those books that underwhelms when it could have been something unique. From the plot, to the setting, to the unrealistic killer, this is a nightmare of a disappointing read.

Some of the concepts behind the killer caught my interest. I’ve long since been interested in Bodyworlds and the plastination process. The idea of a human being preserved in such a manner without consent is both unnerving and uncanny. Having the killer utilize this new preservation technique is a fascinating idea. Then Funaro adds an obsession with Michelangelo to the killer, so that he uses the plastination process to create replicas of the artist’s sculptures from human flesh. I’m still in. Sounds like a creepy yet smart sort of killer who selects his victims based on more than pure emotional/sexual gratification. Now add in some weird “awakening from the stone” purpose crud with incest and physical abusive mommy issues. Pile on warped homosexual urges, confusing spiritual revelations, and genius intellect. But, that’s not all! This guy is also a highly skilled chemist that is so buff he can lift a statue that took four FBI agents to carry. Plus, he’s a multi-millionaire. Sound believable? Yeah, I didn’t think so either. This psycho is conveniently overkill on every level he needs to be to the point he’s basically the Terminator (for the record, the book does reference him as looking like the Terminator).

The villain is perfect in every way he needs to be to not only kill but explain where his psychotic tendencies originated. Sadly, everyone else is perfectly suited to their role in the story as well. Pretty Dr. Cathy Hildebrant is flawless heroine material. Her only fault is putting up with her cheating ex for too long, however that was remedied by divorce at the beginning of the book. She has already moved on. FBI Agent Sam Markham is the perfect hero, using personal tragedy in his past to fuel his need to stop serial killers. They fall into a predictable romance, which works surprisingly well to track down the killer and save each other from him. Everything in pretty little boxes that are wrapped up in matching bows.

The plot is the standard serial killer on the loose, FBI agent on the case while protecting the main female character who the killer has a particular interest in. Yep, that straightforward. It’s been done into the ground. I think what makes this plot exceptional irritating is that there was no new spin on that formulaic structure. Actually, it wasn’t even done well as just the basic plotline. The authorities figure everything out about the killer like magic. There are no real surprises in their investigation. They actual use many of the phrases identically to the way the sculptor uses them, like referring to the people he kills as “materials” and guessing his vague “awaken from the stone” motivations. The POV hops head at random places when the  author felt someone else’s perspective was better at the moment, then hops somewhere else. My point is, all the characters, the POV, and the plot points were conveniently perfect to move the story along the way it needed to go.

Funaro did his research for this book. I’m sure he went through mounds of articles and books on Michelangelo to get all the information required for this novel. It shows, because he dishes out large chunks of this research in wads of info dumps throughout the story.  A large amount of the text was occupied by conversations that went into long speeches of background information on Michelangelo, his history, and theories regarding the artist and his work. At several points, Markham is discussing these topics with Cathy, who is an expert on Michelangelo, and reading her sections of her own book. At one point, he actually say “as you know” to her before going into a word vomit about information she already knew that came from her own book. This hurt some soft squishy place inside me. Why go through all the trouble to do such detailed research only to present it in info dumps that don’t engage the reader? Why?

As much as Funaro took steps to ensure the reader got ever bit of the information on Michelangelo he felt was necessary for the story, the sensory details and setting is severely lacking in this book. I forgot on several occasions where we were as far as location goes, not that the area itself was of any importance in the story. It could have taken place anywhere in the country and would have played out the same. No particular smells or sounds that left any impression me or engaged me deeper into the story. Funaro stuck mainly to describing the visual, except when he goes into the sensations of the painful “awakening” deaths. This only served to distance me further from the story.

The biggest let-down of this book was the ending. The overpowered villain is easily tricked by Cathy as she magically understands his twisted history with his mother in a sudden revelation. Cathy proceeds to hit all the right notes to get the sculptor to release her, as if she had studied his past in detail. Interesting, I didn’t realize she was psychic before that scene, but she must have been in order to pull off that performance. Our Hero, Sam, miraculously manages to survive numerous gunshots in order to save the heroine at just the right moment. She, in turn, is able to save them both moments later while everything goes up in over-budget explosions. Ka-boom! Yet, the final few paragraphs prove the Terminator style sculptor has survived the unsurviable in order to kill again. The whole ending is unrealistic and ridiculous. All I can guess is that the author wrote himself into a corner having Cathy captured by the sculptor and decided that he had no other option than to go all out unbelievable to wrap up the book.

One final thing I would like to note about this book is on themes and meanings. Funaro hinted, repeatedly, at several themes in this book but none of them panned out to make any sort of significant meaning. The “awakening from the stone” motive throughout the book was vague in that it seemed to be about the dwindling intellectual content of entertainment and arts in the modern world, then became about realizing the buried fear of life through death, and then about personal spiritual revelations that connected the sculptor to Christ in weird incest pact with his mother. By the end, it made zero sense what the sculptor hoped to accomplished with the killing or what the point of the book was. The same goes for the homosexual themes. Originally, the killer was profiled as being attracted only to males, mirroring Michelangelo, and only using males for his sculptures. I thought there was going to be some sort of theme building there about the cruel treatment he received regarding his sexual orientation that lead in part to his need to kill. Instead, the story shifted away from that towards the sexual relationship between the killer and his mother. I’m particularly fond of messages and themes in books. I want to feel a story has made me think about something, especially if it’s in a new light. In this story, nothing panned out. I would have rather there been no themes or underlying message at all than a bunch of weak attempts that amounted to nothing.

Overall, this a great book to show what not to do with a psycho. Even if you’re a fan of structured plots that give reader exactly what they are expecting, the info dumps and blandly perfect characters will likely leave an unsatisfying taste in your mouth. Now, I’m going to go take my copy of this book, soak it in acetone and light it on fire. Hopefully, it won’t survive.