This review of The Church of Dead Girls is a moderately long analysis I did on the book in an attempt to get at why I liked it so much as a reader and how I could emulate the parts that worked as a writer. As a result, what follows might be a little dry for some readers, since I'm reviewing from an author's perspective. And it's chock full of spoilers. But that shouldn't keep you from running out and grabbing a copy of this imminently creepy, thoughtful, and suspenseful tour de force. If you do, come back and see if you agree with my thoughts.BTW, I highly recommend reading it as close to Halloween as possible. :) (view spoiler)[SummaryThe Church is a crime fiction/thriller/whodunit set in upstate New York in the fictitious? town of Aurelius. Three teenage girls and two adults are killed in classic serial killer fashion, throwing the town into a state of chaos and fear. Reminiscent of Twin Peaks, but without the zany antics and humor.ThemesThe story tracks the actual events of the murders, of course, but the book is more a treatise of the evils inside rather than the covert evil of the actual killer: how do we treat one another, what do we suspect of each other, when someone starts breaking the accepted rules of civilization? And what evils are we hiding from each other and to what degree do those evils run (from vandalism to promiscuity and infidelity to racism and homophobia/bias to hatred to murder committed in the most heinous fashion)?StyleThe single most significant thing about the style of the book--and maybe just the book itself--is that the P.O.V. is first person (“authorial omniscient”), yet the story is told from a naturally limited third person style most of the time. This is a daring and difficult use of P.O.V. on Dobyns's part, but pulled off with grace.* The four modes are:1.tRegular first person as the narrator either talks about himself or describes events that he actually witnessed or participated in.2.tFlashbacks as told to the narrator by another character so as to widen the scope and allow the narrator to impart story that he wouldn't otherwise be able to (“Ryan told me later that...”).3.tDeeper flashbacks (e.g., Franklin's interview with Donald Malloy near the end in complete dialog).4.tStandard, limited third-person with no real acknowledgment or reasoning; it just is and the reader goes along with it at that point...kind of like Dobyns is dispensing with the props of #2 or #3, above.The reason for the P.O.V., and why it's so devious yet necessary, is that the narrator is himself a suspect until the last 40 pages of the book. From the very beginning, we have doubts about the narrator and Dobyns (purposefully, of course) plants red herrings all over the place suggesting, but never demanding, that we choose the narrator as the killer. This is the “unreliable narrator” taken to extremes, but done effectively. It works especially well in a modern literary context because we have the 20th/21st century's familiarity with the “gentleman serial killer”, i.e., an educated and otherwise rational person given to obscene behavior, a person that can diagnose themselves and/or otherwise recognize that they are a monster and articulate it well (e.g. Hannibal Lecter). This isn't something that an early 20th century (or earlier) audience would be able to recognize or read, but a modern reader has no issue with (potentially) listening to a first-person account of a serial killer's actions.Secondarily, it's a perfect vehicle to impart the moral message of the book, as well: a town being torn apart at the seams because of its hidden corruptions. The narrator can reveal what he thinks of his neighbors, colleagues, and friends (rightly or wrongly); how he remembers the town in a more golden era (the 50's and 60's); the perversion of children (his students) into ignorant and violent or prejudiced adults. A distant third person narration wouldn't have been able to do justice to this second but arguably more important subject.The theme of “who knows the evil in men's hearts” is capped by the narrator stealing Donald's hand at the end. It's creepy, outlandish, but he does it for the best of reasons: to be reminded of the lesson of Donald's inner corruption.* First pointed out in Fiction: The Art and Craft of Writing and Getting Published by Michael Seidman, pg. 139-140.Issues1. Many, many characters and relationships to keep track of. This is a necessary evil, as Dobyns wants us to know the town like our own and the people in it. Life is messy and complicated; this book can't be otherwise. But that doesn't keep it from becoming difficult for some readers (these complaints seen on Amazon's reviews).2. Revealing the killer 40 pages from the end took the sting out of the discovery. How else to do it? Perhaps a quick unveiling, then more on the retrospect end (since you can't leave the reader hanging with “What?! It was the pharmacist? Holy crap!”, you have some explaining to do). But Dobyns drags out the chapter from the discovery of Donald Malloy to the end, THEN does retrospect.3. Other Amazon reviews complained of the slow pace. This might be inevitable for a story like this. Pace is what sets the tension.Miscellaneous1. We never know the narrator's name.2. We never find out the unfortunate things that happened to the narrator in New York City.3. Latent political commentary with the IIR (Communist reading group) being the focus of so much of the (assumed) right-wing/conservative community.Quotes1. Frightening description of being alone in a house:Imagine being alone in a house at night and hearing a noise, a floorboard creaking or a window sliding up. The mind at once interprets what it might be: something benign like wind or the house resettling or something wicked. You wait for another sound. You hear the furnace click on, the humming of a light, a clock ticking. Lists of alternatives roll through your mind. If you feel guilty or scared, maybe, you fear the worst. If you feel content and live in a place you think is safe (but what is safe?), you might return to your book. Then comes another noise.2. Verisimilitude, we've all done this:Sheila had both hands on the bar, leaning towards Ryan. He was turning his stool slightly to the left, then to the right. There was something almost childlike about it.3. In general, Dobyns's excellent descriptions of the quiet of falling and fallen snow, the ambiance of mid- to late autumn in a northern town, Halloween in a traditional American way, the catalog of a typical small American town. (hide spoiler)]
"The Church Of Dead Girls" is as perfect as it is unusual. Half cerebral literary fiction and half mystery thriller, this book tells the story of a serial killer targeting preteen girls through the eyes of a nameless narrator who serves as the lens and the conscience of a small-town community in upstate New York. Dobyns, who developed his ability to create a community with a cast of intriguing dozens in his "Saratoga" mystery series, broadens his palette even as he narrows its focus — Aurelis, N.Y. is much smaller than Saratoga, but it seems bigger because it introduces us, in remarkable depth over its 432 pages, to more than 40 locals. Many seem innocuous on the surface, and those who appear to be the most outwardly sinister often prove to be anything but. And the breaking points of nearly all are exposed with a strange blend of the narrator's sympathies and empathies. There are some great ones. Aaron McNeal, who left town after his mother was murdered a few years before, returns with a murky agenda and immediately sets most Aurelians on edge. Barry Sanders, a gay albino known to all as "Little Pink," and Harriet Malcomb, a silent but seemingly corrosive young woman, become his curious recruits in an undeclared war. Ryan Tavish is the bewildered town cop with secrets of his own, and his best friend is newspaper editor Franklin Moore, a man who drowns his own deadly sorrows in his role as the community's unwanted mirror. I could easily list a few dozen more.Even as these characters are developed, all under the benign but watchful eye of the narrator, more girls disappear. More people snap. More people take on authority with more bluster than competence. More people are needlessly destroyed. A once pleasant, even sleepy community threatens to collapse needlessly under the weight of malignant paranoia and suspicion. And that breaking point finally flushes the killer out into the open in a way that makes the entire town his accomplice and jury in the same strange surging final moments of this stunning story. I pretty much see "The Church Of Dead Girls" as Booklist did: "Methodically peeling back the veneer of civic pride and community harmony that holds the town together, Dobyns reveals the dark impulses and tangled relationships that lie underneath. He's not as interested in the pathology of the serial killer in their midst as he is in the pathology that exists within us all. An unusually thoughtful psychological thriller."It's one of my favorite novels ever, one that grows richer and more rewarding with repeated readings.
What do You think about The Church Of Dead Girls (1998)?
This is how they looked: three dead girls propped up in three straight chairs.The suspicion didn't just go away. It just slipped back to wherever it hid. Wow. What a meaty and cerebral read -- textured, layered, nuanced. It is a quiet novel that takes its time to carefully contemplate on its subject. And what is its subject? Despite the title, not the disappearance and death of three young girls, not really. Solving the crime, locating the victims, is secondary to the examination of a small town under siege marinating in fear and gripped by suspicion. Dobyns takes a microscopic approach and in rich, solid prose draws a detailed portrait of a townspeople succumbing to the worst of their prejudices and paranoia. It's excruciatingly intimate and painfully honest. At times, I was reminded of Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle. As with Jackson's novel, Dobyns is able to disturb and unsettle me with his insight into dark hearts and the secrets humans keep. What is that stranger sitting next to us on the bus hiding? Our neighbor? Our friend? Our lover? What impulses lurk behind expressions of devotion and fidelity? What impulses do we see when we look in the mirror? Most of us will never act on them, but they lurk there nevertheless. Waiting, for a crack, for a moment of weakness. I liked how the first person point of view not only kept me in the dark for much of the novel, but kept me off-kilter and suspicious too. Like the town's inhabitants, everyone became a suspect for me as well, including the narrator himself. I did not trust him. I was never able to satisfactorily confirm his reliability. I was on my own, unnerved and watchful, plagued by feelings of dread, outrage, and melancholy.Don't let the sleepy start in a sleepy town fool you. This book has teeth. For me, no one writes the mad psychology of small towns better than Stephen King. Dobyns makes a helluva case though. Fans of Donna Tartt's The Secret History may also enjoy this.
—Trudi
If you can semi-ignore the 180 minor characters and just concentrate on the 60 major ones, you'll have a much easier time reading this intelligent horror novel. Also, accept the fact that the novel will unfold very slowly.In a small town in upstate New York, a middle-aged woman who happens to be the town slut is murdered and her left hand cut off. Over the following months, three young girls, ages 14 and 13, are abducted. We find out in the novel's opening flash-forward scene that they have been
—Lobstergirl
In dem Psychothriller "The Church of Dead Girls" ("Die Kirche der toten Mädchen") geht es um die Auswirkungen des Verschwindens von drei Mädchen auf das Leben in einer beliebigen amerikanischen Kleinstadt. Es entsteht eine Atmosphäre von Misstrauen und Angst, keiner ist vor den Verdächtigungen, der Täter zu sein, gefeit.Was verbirgt der Nachbar hinter seiner öffentlich sichtbaren Fassade? Welche Geheimnisse lauern im Verborgenen?Das eigene Verhalten (des Ich-Erzählers) wird vorsichtiger, er wägt ab, was er sagt und tut, um nicht auch noch in Verdacht zu geraten.Die dabei entstehende Spannung ist eine, die implodiert und die simple Frage "Wer wars?" in den Hintergrund drängt.Ein Roman, der die Untiefen der menschlichen Schwächen und Verhaltensweisen auslotet und damit zu überzeugen vermag.
—Esme
