Scan barcode
A review by ojtheviking
Psycho by Robert Bloch
4.75
Sometimes you have to check out the classics, even if you basically know all about them already. I've obviously seen Hitchcock's adaptation, and I've heard people discuss the original novel a few times. But again, sometimes you just have to see for yourself, and I consider it an accomplishment in life to have finally read this one.
I've also been curious about Robert Bloch in general, as he's also written some episodes of the original Star Trek series (I'm a huge Trekkie), and to think that the Trek franchise and the Psycho franchise are connected based on him is very cool.
In simple terms, this was an awesome read. As mentioned, I already knew the main plot of the story - especially the big twist - but this only helped me be aware of some clever bits of foreshadowing early on in the novel. Subtle enough that someone unfamiliar with the overall story might not immediately catch it, but retrospectively nice enough easter eggs for those who know.
One thing that struck me as fascinating was how daring this felt for a book published in the late 1950s. Because sometimes you have to take the time period into consideration. It's quite similar to Hitchcock's movie; by today's standards, it could be considered a not-too-gruesome little horror story, but it was still sort of the predecessor to the 1980s wave of slasher flicks, and even such a simple thing as showing a toilet being flushed was new and controversial at the time. Also, the whole third-act exposition scene where everything is explained to us may seem redundant today, but again, at the time, the movie did present some brand new ideas in cinema history.
So, in a similar way, I'd think some of the topics Bloch has written about in this novel would be borderline too deviant and controversial back then. The kills, even though they are still heavily implied rather than graphically described, are still slightly more brutal than how they were presented in the movie (it of course makes sense why they were toned down in the movie just for that reason, as the visual brutality would have been too much back then). But again, even some topics that are discussed and described stood out to me as more shocking than they might have done if it was from a much more recent novel. It caught me off guard that Bloch managed to write about these things back in 1959.
For example, Norman's unhealthy connection to his mother is also more deeply explored here. There's even a direct reference to the Oedipus complex, giving the story some highly uncomfortable subtext. There are also indications of his mother being aware of his sexual impulses, so the line between what's inappropriate or not among family members is somewhat blurred. Given how Psycho is one of the stories inspired by real-life serial killer Ed Gein (along with Silence of the Lambs and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre), these elements of the book, with the whole Norman/mother relationship, are clearly a watered-down yet still disturbing portrayal of Gein's own morbid mother/son relationship.
Some parts of the novel also explore a general theme of dark secrets, raising the question of how well you really know another person. It creates a sense of uneasiness, almost like a social paranoia that's rather deep for a 1950s novel. Maybe that's my impression being warped by the happy, sunny Hollywood movies of that era. But Bloch's novel is like a counterpoint to that, exploring the possibility that someone you have known for a long time may suddenly turn out to have done something horrific. That in and of itself may also have been somewhat inspired by the real-life reactions to Ed Gein since his neighbors would say in interviews that he always struck them as a nice, quiet fella who never seemed capable of hurting anyone.
Moreover, as we get a better insight into Norman's mind than we do in the movie, it's interesting to see how he actually wonders about his own mental health a bit more actively. Just a tad more self-aware compared to in the movie, but obviously still quite unwell and oblivious.
Hitchcock was known as the master of suspense, but one could certainly say that the road was somewhat paved for him with this novel, as Bloch very skillfully creates a sense of tension and urgency. All the questions and uncertainty around Mary's disappearance, the way we almost start sweating along with Norman when Arbogast starts applying a bit of pressure when questioning him, and so on.
I also like how Bloch has sometimes grouped two chapters together, in the sense that these two chapters combined describe two sides of the same scenario. Thus, the second of those two chapters does a tiny jump backward in time and sort of restarts a specific moment, only from someone else's perspective, until it's caught up with where the previous chapter left off. It's a neat way to establish the whereabouts and activities of everyone involved.
Stephen King once explored some of his favorite opening lines in novels, and how important that first sentence is; the way it has to grab your attention immediately. I also think that a book will leave you with something lasting if it has the perfect closing line as well. And I truly feel that Psycho has one of the most classic closing lines in history.
I've also been curious about Robert Bloch in general, as he's also written some episodes of the original Star Trek series (I'm a huge Trekkie), and to think that the Trek franchise and the Psycho franchise are connected based on him is very cool.
In simple terms, this was an awesome read. As mentioned, I already knew the main plot of the story - especially the big twist - but this only helped me be aware of some clever bits of foreshadowing early on in the novel. Subtle enough that someone unfamiliar with the overall story might not immediately catch it, but retrospectively nice enough easter eggs for those who know.
One thing that struck me as fascinating was how daring this felt for a book published in the late 1950s. Because sometimes you have to take the time period into consideration. It's quite similar to Hitchcock's movie; by today's standards, it could be considered a not-too-gruesome little horror story, but it was still sort of the predecessor to the 1980s wave of slasher flicks, and even such a simple thing as showing a toilet being flushed was new and controversial at the time. Also, the whole third-act exposition scene where everything is explained to us may seem redundant today, but again, at the time, the movie did present some brand new ideas in cinema history.
So, in a similar way, I'd think some of the topics Bloch has written about in this novel would be borderline too deviant and controversial back then. The kills, even though they are still heavily implied rather than graphically described, are still slightly more brutal than how they were presented in the movie (it of course makes sense why they were toned down in the movie just for that reason, as the visual brutality would have been too much back then). But again, even some topics that are discussed and described stood out to me as more shocking than they might have done if it was from a much more recent novel. It caught me off guard that Bloch managed to write about these things back in 1959.
For example, Norman's unhealthy connection to his mother is also more deeply explored here. There's even a direct reference to the Oedipus complex, giving the story some highly uncomfortable subtext. There are also indications of his mother being aware of his sexual impulses, so the line between what's inappropriate or not among family members is somewhat blurred. Given how Psycho is one of the stories inspired by real-life serial killer Ed Gein (along with Silence of the Lambs and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre), these elements of the book, with the whole Norman/mother relationship, are clearly a watered-down yet still disturbing portrayal of Gein's own morbid mother/son relationship.
Some parts of the novel also explore a general theme of dark secrets, raising the question of how well you really know another person. It creates a sense of uneasiness, almost like a social paranoia that's rather deep for a 1950s novel. Maybe that's my impression being warped by the happy, sunny Hollywood movies of that era. But Bloch's novel is like a counterpoint to that, exploring the possibility that someone you have known for a long time may suddenly turn out to have done something horrific. That in and of itself may also have been somewhat inspired by the real-life reactions to Ed Gein since his neighbors would say in interviews that he always struck them as a nice, quiet fella who never seemed capable of hurting anyone.
Moreover, as we get a better insight into Norman's mind than we do in the movie, it's interesting to see how he actually wonders about his own mental health a bit more actively. Just a tad more self-aware compared to in the movie, but obviously still quite unwell and oblivious.
Hitchcock was known as the master of suspense, but one could certainly say that the road was somewhat paved for him with this novel, as Bloch very skillfully creates a sense of tension and urgency. All the questions and uncertainty around Mary's disappearance, the way we almost start sweating along with Norman when Arbogast starts applying a bit of pressure when questioning him, and so on.
I also like how Bloch has sometimes grouped two chapters together, in the sense that these two chapters combined describe two sides of the same scenario. Thus, the second of those two chapters does a tiny jump backward in time and sort of restarts a specific moment, only from someone else's perspective, until it's caught up with where the previous chapter left off. It's a neat way to establish the whereabouts and activities of everyone involved.
Stephen King once explored some of his favorite opening lines in novels, and how important that first sentence is; the way it has to grab your attention immediately. I also think that a book will leave you with something lasting if it has the perfect closing line as well. And I truly feel that Psycho has one of the most classic closing lines in history.