A review by johndiconsiglio
Blood Will Out by Walter Kirn

2.0

Talk about burying the lead! Walter Kirn is handed a true crime story: His high society pal of 15 years isn't a Rockefeller, but a con man & gruesome murderer. It's noir gold. A charming homicidal charlatan, a dismembered body, even human bones buried under a swimming pool. But Kirn’s pretentious prose focuses on, well, himself. Dude, you’ve got bones in a swimming pool! Instead we read endless musing on Kirn’s affected Princeton literary persona, his afternoons sipping gin at the Lotos Club, his conquests with women who “treated sex like naked theater.” (Huh?) Even his childhood thumb-sucking. This book is why people hate writers.