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3.62 AVERAGE
3.62 AVERAGE
This is one of the better Highsmith novels that I've read. It does what her best books do best, and that, to me, is to push a character through a series of often fairly mundane mystery or crime drama sequences until they start to really get under your skin. I hate to second guess the master's method, but it seems to me she dreams up these slightly off, edgy people and then just follows Heraclitus's maxim regarding character being the stuff of one's destiny until they fulfill themselves in something--a series of events, I guess--that comes to resemble a plot. It works for me.
Here we have Vic, a man who goes to great lengths not to be petty. Needless to say, pettiness catches up with him in a big, big way.
Here we have Vic, a man who goes to great lengths not to be petty. Needless to say, pettiness catches up with him in a big, big way.
dark
reflective
medium-paced
It’s always interesting to read a book where you can’t decide who the villain is. I guess every person has their sides of good and evil. Trying to justify the two main characters in this book and their actions, it’s definitely going to keep me thinking.
It was messy, good but not great. I hoped for more tension; the chaos was fun but often dull. Melinda’s affairs, while I do not condone, make sense because Vic bored me too—except when handling her suitors. I also found the ending very frustrating. Everyone was in the wrong, yet the conclusion was still unsatisfying even though I can’t think of a more preferred one. Honestly, I wasn’t thrilled to read it, but determined to tackle my physical TBR by the end of the year. I bought it on a whim during a visit to the Shakespeare and Co. bookstore, mainly because I wanted a book from said location and for the Gillian Flynn (author I love) interview mentioned on the back. Overall, it was okay, but I don’t think it’s my kind of book.
If Tom Ripley had been born into money, he might have set up a little printing company in a sleepy Massachusetts town, where he and his one employee handset all the type. If he didn't have to con and scrape to get by, he might have lovingly raised snails and bedbugs (which he feeds with his own blood) in his garage. Instead of marrying an heiress as amoral as himself, he might have married a rather amoral young woman without money. And after having a child together, she might find herself bored with both husband and child and begin to, not so secretly, take lovers.
But this isn't Tom, it's Vic Van Allen (who is inexplicably played by Ben Affleck in the movie adaptation coming out next year -- because if his bestie can play Tom, then why not?) who is apathetically cuckolded, to the horror of his friends and neighbors. And it's Vic, with his coldly detached sense of humor, who "jokes" to one of Melinda's playthings that he killed one of her previous lovers, found beaten to death in his New York apartment. Even after the actual murderer is arrested, suspicion lingers, and when more of Melinda's lovers die or disappear under mysterious circumstances, she knows it has to be him. (The story is told in third-person with insight into Vic's very interesting mind.)
This is my fifth novel by Ms. Highsmith (including [b:The Price of Salt|52258|The Price of Salt|Claire Morgan|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1628139806l/52258._SX50_.jpg|50983], which she originally published under a pseudonym), and she's becoming a favorite.
But this isn't Tom, it's Vic Van Allen (who is inexplicably played by Ben Affleck in the movie adaptation coming out next year -- because if his bestie can play Tom, then why not?) who is apathetically cuckolded, to the horror of his friends and neighbors. And it's Vic, with his coldly detached sense of humor, who "jokes" to one of Melinda's playthings that he killed one of her previous lovers, found beaten to death in his New York apartment. Even after the actual murderer is arrested, suspicion lingers, and when more of Melinda's lovers die or disappear under mysterious circumstances, she knows it has to be him. (The story is told in third-person with insight into Vic's very interesting mind.)
This is my fifth novel by Ms. Highsmith (including [b:The Price of Salt|52258|The Price of Salt|Claire Morgan|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1628139806l/52258._SX50_.jpg|50983], which she originally published under a pseudonym), and she's becoming a favorite.
Not my kind of murder, and not as compelling as The Talented Mr Ripley
Hahaha. What? WTF is this book even and WTF did I read it? Oh yeah I read it because they announced Ben Affleck starring in the movie. A lot of times, I’ll see a production announcement that says “based on the book” and add the book to my queue as a result. And this book just happened to be available. I NEED TO STOP DOING THAT.
The movie description was “erotic thriller.”
Things this book ain’t:
Erotic
Thrilling
A married couple who can’t stand each other. Pretentious, unlikeable people who attend cocktail parties on, like, a weekly basis. Honestly, I was just trying to finish the damn thing to see if it went anywhere, speed reading the last half. Something kind of happened finally. Still neither erotic nor thrilling.
I didn’t even have a handle on when this book takes place. The 1920s? 1950s? 1980s? “Pre-internet and cell phones” is as close to an era as I could get. Ugh. Dreadful.
If you like this sentence, which I highlighted for the ridiculousness of it all, knock yourself out: There was something demoniacal and insuperable about typographical errors, as if they were part of the natural evil that permeated man’s existence, as if they had a life of their own and were determined to manifest themselves no matter what, as surely as weeds in the best-tended gardens.
The movie description was “erotic thriller.”
Things this book ain’t:
Erotic
Thrilling
A married couple who can’t stand each other. Pretentious, unlikeable people who attend cocktail parties on, like, a weekly basis. Honestly, I was just trying to finish the damn thing to see if it went anywhere, speed reading the last half. Something kind of happened finally. Still neither erotic nor thrilling.
I didn’t even have a handle on when this book takes place. The 1920s? 1950s? 1980s? “Pre-internet and cell phones” is as close to an era as I could get. Ugh. Dreadful.
If you like this sentence, which I highlighted for the ridiculousness of it all, knock yourself out: There was something demoniacal and insuperable about typographical errors, as if they were part of the natural evil that permeated man’s existence, as if they had a life of their own and were determined to manifest themselves no matter what, as surely as weeds in the best-tended gardens.
Though the writing was skillful, I simply couldn't find anything likable about the main characters. They were unpleasant, unhappy people in an unloving marriage doing unkind things.
Am loving Highsmith’s tone and the last probably three chapters or so of this had me in suspense, not for what will happen but how.