I first encountered the work of Patricia Highsmith, in the shape of the novel The Glass Cell, when I was in my mid-teens. I got perhaps fifty pages into the book, loathing every moment of it. A few years later I tried one of her Ripley novels (Ripley Under Ground, I think); this time, though abhorring the central character and the whole ethos of the book, I did manage to grind my way through to the end. Twice bitten, I thereafter remained permanently shy of Highsmith . . . which is strange for someone who's written about so many of the screen adaptations based on the work of this most noirish of authors.I've seen both of the big-screen adaptations of The Cry of the Owl -- Claude Chabrol's Le Cri du Hibou (1987), which I remember adoring, and the 2009 English-language version -- and according to my somewhat hazy memory they both give the tale a certain gravitas, a mythopoeic import, a deliberate ambiguity that, while it might work fine for a two-hour movie, didn't much entice me into a reappraisal of Highsmith's work.And then, the day before yesterday, I picked up the copy of The Cry of the Owl that I dutifully bought a few months ago ("I really must give Highsmith another try!"), wearily opened it . . . and was bowled over! This is a heck of a good yarn that gripped me from the very first page and caused havoc to my writing schedule.The story's outwardly simple enough. Recovering from his short but intensely painful marriage to uberbitch Nickie, Robert moves from NYC to a small Pennsylvania town. There he falls into the habit of observing 23-year old Jenny Thierolf through her kitchen window at nights -- not with any sexual intent but simply in order to share what he believes to be her contented existence as she awaits marriage to her devoted fiance Greg. One night, though, she catches Robert in the act of spying on her; rather than calling the cops, she invites him in for a coffee. It proves that the life Robert thought was so contented is anything but. Jenny nurtures serious doubts about her feelings for Greg, and in fact very soon starts falling profoundly in love with Robert. He, though flattered and becoming very fond of Jenny, cannot reciprocate that love -- perhaps because he still has too much healing left to be done after the horrors of his marriage to the sociopathic Nickie.Greg, we discover, is every bit as much a sociopath as Nickie, and the pair set out to destroy Robert's life. Other lives suffer . . .The ending's perhaps a tad grand guignol, but it seems not inappropriate for what has by then become such a savage tale. Otherwise, I can't really find any fault at all with The Cry of the Owl: it knocked my socks off. I sense that I'm going to be reading a lot of Highsmith this year . . .
This is the opposite of a book you can't put down. This is a book that you have to put down over and over again, because you're so horrified by what is happening to these characters who you care about so deeply that you just have to look away.I find myself in the same fix as the person who wrote the back-cover blurb, in that I can't describe the novel without giving away an absolutely priceless surprise. I mean a great moment, one of those "great novel" moments, that comes almost immediately in the book and sets the scene for every little thing that follows.This is a story about a man who is stalking a woman whom he does not know. And then a lot of things happen, and there's a murder or two. It's a sort of reductio of stalking, which in the 50s and the 60s was seen as slightly more romantic. "Even if you were this guy," says Ms. Highsmith, "and you're not. And even if all this happened; which it won't. It still won't work out, and here is why." "Stalking," she is saying "is not romantic, it's creepy and small, and you will embarass your poor mother."The book works on the good man/bad man good woman/bad woman axis. The good man pushes the bad man out, but there is a tragic flaw in the way he does it, so the bad man goes to the bad woman who then pushes the good woman out. And then there are murders.This book definitely competes with Philip K. Dick for realistic depictions of horrible marriages between schlubby supermen and women of active malevolence. I've read so many 50s and 60s novels about horrible, evil, malicious, cruel, scheming wives and ex-wives that I'm starting to suspect the women of the time were angry about something. If there's one major weakness to the novel it's that the protagonist's ex-wife is so scheming and wicked that only the art of the author can make her live. Nicki Forester Jurgen is a scary woman.At first I suspected the author was trying to say something about the CIA (the protagonist lives in Langley, PA, and works for a mysterious but highly-secure helicopter manufacturing plant there) but after a while I was so totally caught up in the machinations and abominations presented that I forgot all about it. My theory sorta works because this is all about "when you spy on people bad things happen" but I'd have to read it again to convince myself or a literature professor.
What do You think about The Cry Of The Owl (1999)?
The conceit of the stalker stalked is what attracted me to this book. Because he finds the spectacle of her apparent happiness and innocence soothing, Robert entertains harmless fantasies about a young woman whom he observes going about her evening routines. But as soon as she becomes aware of his presence in her backyard, Jenny pretty much forces Robert to take centre stage in her life, with devastating consequences. An ingenious plot, but the writing is middling. I know it's been used as a basis for at least one movie, and I can see why a director would be attracted to the material.
—Pascale
"As pessoas que espreitavam pelas janelas de outras eram anormais - quer observassem mulheres a despir-se, quer elas estivessem apenas a fritar frango."Como sempre, as personagens de Patricia Highsmith são emocionalmente instáveis e dotadas de personalidades danificadas, delineadas por experiências de vida pouco comuns. Numa atmosfera desagradável e pouco confortável, o pequeno grupo de personagens interage entre si e estabelece relações perigosas e obsessivas. Por um lado, temos duas mulheres distintas: uma jovem sonhadora, temperamental que não tem receio da morte e uma mulher psicótico, promíscua e, de certa, forma, tóxica. Por outro lado, temos dois homens de intensidades opostas: um apaixonado e violento e outro solitário, depressivo e pensativo. Estas quatro pessoas vêm-se emocionalmente envolvidas, numa cadeia de eventos únicos, guiados pela obsessão pela morte e pelo ciúme agressivo."O Grito do Mocho" explora o julgamento colectivo sem fundamentos, numa pequena cidade. De certa forma, o livro centra-se na paixão desigual entre um homem e uma mulher, o que representa um ligeiro desvio na abordagem da autora, que normalmente se foca em relações obsessivas entre pessoas do mesmo sexo. A relação principal da história, contudo, tem como origem uma rotina obsessiva compulsiva, onde a espionagem se assume inofensiva e compreensível, apelando ao nosso consentimento, que facilmente é dado por nos podermos imaginar na mesma situação."Os psicopatas têm forçosamente aspecto de psicopatas? Decerto que não."
—Maria João Fernandes
3.5 starsRobert, recently divorced and lonely, decides to trespass on youthful Jenny's property and watch her through her first-floor window. Not a terribly bright decision, but Robert is more lonely than creepy, at least how Highsmith writes him. Robert notes youthful Jenny has a suitor (Greg) that visits her frequently, and it's likely that the match will lead to marriage.Jenny discovers Robert spying on her. In an unusual twist, she finds him intriguing and ditches Greg for Robert. Here is what's rather implausible. Robert, who is lonely, isn't interested in Jenny once she switches her affections toward him. And then you wonder if Jenny is the unbalanced one... And then Greg disappears, which heightens the mystery. While a bit implausible, interesting story that makes you wonder who is the crazy one. Then you realize that the answer might be D. All of the above.
—Beth Gordon
