Reviews

He Died with His Eyes Open by Derek Raymond

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remlezar's review against another edition

3.0

This kind of nihilistic crime fiction stuff, ala True Detective, is usually right up my alley, but this one didn't do all that much for me. There were flashes of brilliance, but it was mostly forgettable and yammering. Not terrible, but a bit of a letdown.

beentsy's review against another edition

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5.0

I really enjoyed this. The grit, the bleakness, the truly awful humans that populated the story.

emilybryk's review against another edition

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3.0

This feels like an older book than it is. It owes so much to the bleakness of "Double Indemnity," but maybe it owes more than it fully wants to acknowledge. I don't know. I get that there's a lot to be said for thinking to place this kind of book in Thatcher-era London, but it felt less fresh and exciting than most other reviewers seem to think it does.

kurdt's review against another edition

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challenging dark medium-paced

Plot- or character-driven? Plot
Strong character development? No
Loveable characters? It's complicated
Diverse cast of characters? No
Flaws of characters a main focus? No

3.0

rebus's review against another edition

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4.0

A bit of an existential thriller that builds slowly into something that is greater than it seems at first, with its awkward style and lack of adherence to the typical tropes of such police procedurals (that's a good thing). He shows boldly for the time the inner mind of the cops, the racism and other prejudices that lead them to having frequent homicidal thoughts and urges toward everyone they see as villains. The writer also exposes some class issues, seeming to know that the world can't bear the truth, a concept pounded home by characters who can't resolve such cognitive dissonance either.

It's also at times a profound meditation on artistic pursuits, writing in particular, with a fair bit of history mixed in (the victim left behind both writing and recordings). The character astutely notes that 'anyone who conceives of writing as an agreeable stroll towards a middle class lifestyle will never write anything but crap.' He additionally notes that state commissioned art is always terrible due to ignorant bureaucrats with 'senile' tastes, and that true believers can go beyond their limits. He even assures us that voting for Democrats proves that one has no real opinions and never takes risks, a bit of advice the modern electorate--particularly the youth--could take.

I laughed aloud when he said that to write is to engage in a naked fight with existence, after having pointed out earlier that few of us see our naked existence except during a most terrible hangover.

Heady stuff that turns the detective novel on its ear.