Jeff Lindsay - Darkly Dreaming Dexter
Meet Dexter Morgan, a polite wolf in sheep's clothing. He's handsome and charming, but something in his past has made him abide by a different set of rules. He's a serial killer whose one golden rule makes him immensely likable: he only kills bad people. And his job as a blood spatter expert for the Miami police department puts him in the perfect position to identify his victims. But when brutal murders bearing a striking similarity to his own style start turning up, Dexter is caught between being flattered and being frightened-of himself or some other fiend.
I waited eagerly for this book to come up on my booksfree list, and then had to wait longer for it to be available. It was totally worth the wait. I've had it for about three weeks now, and I really don't want to send it back.
The story is narrated by Dexter, and he makes himself so sympathetic that it takes serious gore to jolt the reader back into remembering that he's a cold-blooded killer. "Whatever made me the way I am left me hollow, empty inside, unable to feel. It doesn't seem like a big deal. I'm quite sure most people fake an awful lot of everyday human contact. I just fake all of it."
Some traumatic incident in Dexter's past, only obliquely referred to by his foster father, left him a killer. A killer obsessed with cleanliness, blood, and with a strange soft spot for children. His foster father Harry was a cop, slowly losing his faith in justice. So when he discovers that young Dexter has been killing animals, he doesn't have Dexter put away. He understands that Dexter can't help himself, and that Dex has managed to take in some kind of moral code from Harry. And so he steps in and changes Dexter's life again, by telling him that some people deserve to die.
Throughout the book, Dexter reveals more about Harry and his training. Harry is the one who instructed Dexter not only in constructing his human facade, but also in finding and tracking his victims and cleaning up after himself. Despite Dexter's sociopathy, Harry gave him a framework within which to live his life, and Dexter stays within it, even after Harry's death.
Dexter is used to not feeling things, so when the Miami police department begins to investigate the brutal killings and dismemberment of hookers, he is nonplussed to find himself admiring the killer's method and vision. His confusion is worsened when his foster sister and policewoman Deborah wants to solve the killings to get herself into the homicide department and out of the hooker department. Dexter is torn between loyalty to his sister, the one person he might care about, and admiration of the killer.
Later, Dexter begins dreaming about the killings, and becomes concerned that his carefully constructed sanity has broken, and that he himself is doing the murders while he sleeps. His attempts to convince himself otherwise work, until Deb finds a photo of the killer, who happens to look a lot like Dexter.
I first read the book right before I went to bed, and maybe it was pregnancy hormones, but the characterization and imagery were so evocative that I had nightmares about Matt being a serial killer. I haven't had nightmares about a horror novel in years. And then, a few days later, I picked up the book and read it all the way through again. I love Dexter. He's an amazing character: a sympathetic psycho. Sympathetic because of his traumatic past and his choice of victims, he's a fascinating glimpse into insanity, and his observations of "real" humans give an outsider's view of human behavior.
I don't think I'll be waiting for the paperback version of the next book, Dearly Devoted Dexter. My crappy local library says they have it, so I'll put a hold on that and get back into Dexter's head much sooner.
I waited eagerly for this book to come up on my booksfree list, and then had to wait longer for it to be available. It was totally worth the wait. I've had it for about three weeks now, and I really don't want to send it back.
The story is narrated by Dexter, and he makes himself so sympathetic that it takes serious gore to jolt the reader back into remembering that he's a cold-blooded killer. "Whatever made me the way I am left me hollow, empty inside, unable to feel. It doesn't seem like a big deal. I'm quite sure most people fake an awful lot of everyday human contact. I just fake all of it."
Some traumatic incident in Dexter's past, only obliquely referred to by his foster father, left him a killer. A killer obsessed with cleanliness, blood, and with a strange soft spot for children. His foster father Harry was a cop, slowly losing his faith in justice. So when he discovers that young Dexter has been killing animals, he doesn't have Dexter put away. He understands that Dexter can't help himself, and that Dex has managed to take in some kind of moral code from Harry. And so he steps in and changes Dexter's life again, by telling him that some people deserve to die.
Throughout the book, Dexter reveals more about Harry and his training. Harry is the one who instructed Dexter not only in constructing his human facade, but also in finding and tracking his victims and cleaning up after himself. Despite Dexter's sociopathy, Harry gave him a framework within which to live his life, and Dexter stays within it, even after Harry's death.
Dexter is used to not feeling things, so when the Miami police department begins to investigate the brutal killings and dismemberment of hookers, he is nonplussed to find himself admiring the killer's method and vision. His confusion is worsened when his foster sister and policewoman Deborah wants to solve the killings to get herself into the homicide department and out of the hooker department. Dexter is torn between loyalty to his sister, the one person he might care about, and admiration of the killer.
Later, Dexter begins dreaming about the killings, and becomes concerned that his carefully constructed sanity has broken, and that he himself is doing the murders while he sleeps. His attempts to convince himself otherwise work, until Deb finds a photo of the killer, who happens to look a lot like Dexter.
I first read the book right before I went to bed, and maybe it was pregnancy hormones, but the characterization and imagery were so evocative that I had nightmares about Matt being a serial killer. I haven't had nightmares about a horror novel in years. And then, a few days later, I picked up the book and read it all the way through again. I love Dexter. He's an amazing character: a sympathetic psycho. Sympathetic because of his traumatic past and his choice of victims, he's a fascinating glimpse into insanity, and his observations of "real" humans give an outsider's view of human behavior.
I don't think I'll be waiting for the paperback version of the next book, Dearly Devoted Dexter. My crappy local library says they have it, so I'll put a hold on that and get back into Dexter's head much sooner.