Darkly Dreaming Dexter

I really wanted to like this book, and everything about the premise should have been a win for me. I find well-developed unreliable and unlikable characters extremely interesting. Reading from the POV of a killer or stalker (e.g., You by Caroline Kepnes) can be wonderfully disturbing and morbid. I like reading crime novels and true crime, and I find the psychology of serial killers fascinating. Unfortunately, I was severely disappointed in this whole book.

First let's talk about characters. Dexter is wildly inconsistent. He doesn't have emotions, but he has emotions. He doesn't have human desires, but he does. He's a sociopath, but he's not. He “isn't human” and doesn't care, yet somehow he cares about kids and has a moral code. It felt like the author didn't really know who the character was, or what serial killers and sociopaths are like. It may have been an attempt to create dimension to the character, but I don't think it worked and just left me confused.

That being said, I found Dexter's stress about his lost time compelling. It ultimately added to him feeling inconsistent, but the emotion itself was better described than in other books. Where it falls flat is on the follow-through. I wish his emotions had been more explored instead of him just thinking, “Woah I am feeling an emotion. That's weird. I don't have emotions.” Then he'd do something that was extremely emotionless. I'm pretty sure I have whiplash from all the back and forth.

Moving on, the female characters were awful, and it was apparent from the second chapter how bad it was going to be throughout the whole book. Dexter's sister was worthless, argumentative, and wanted him to do her job for her yet never believed him. Somehow she felt she deserved a promotion, though it was clear she'd make a terrible detective and couldn't do her own job without Dexter spoonfeeding her. His boss was a useless detective who was described as “outwardly feminine” but definitely couldn't have slept her way to her position, oh no, because she has a “masculine” personality. Somehow she's a stupid person who falls for a lot of bullshit, yet she's the only one to think about tailing Dexter. They were all useless characters and were so one-dimensional that they became caricatures. Across the board, the character development was lacking.

I started highlighting every instance that women were described as stupid, irrational, or in that ridiculous way male writers tend to describe female appearance, but I stopped after 41 highlights (many of which included whole paragraphs). I don't know why male writers can't write real women. I'm not saying every woman has to be smart and likeable, but write them in a realistic way. Maybe we were only seeing women as Dexter sees them, but if that's true then he also isn't consistent in that. He both thought sex workers didn't deserve to die but also thought they were “just prostitutes” so it didn't matter if they died. In the end, I don't believe these were simply Dexter's views of women because of how characteristic the descriptions were of male writers in general.

As for the plot, I always find dreams to be a weak plot-moving device. I also don't find lost time very interesting at all, in any book. It always feels like a cheap way to create suspense. I wasn't aware this book had that, otherwise I would've skipped it altogether (definitely my bad, given the title). It was obvious Dexter wasn't actually the murderer, and we had to go through most of the book waiting to find out who it really was, but not in a suspenseful way. It was more boring and dragged out than anything. The reveal was nothing short of lackluster.

I can't get on board with one traumatic event making two brothers (who were raised separately) serial killers. Nature vs nurture is incredibly complex, and they not only have different genetics but majorly different upbringings outside of one awful event. We're supposed to believe they're basically the same and the only difference between the two of them is that one kills with a moral code. It's a stretch.

The humor was okay sometimes, occasionally making me chuckle, but severely tone deaf other times. I don't personally find sex worker or race jokes funny, but they may hit the mark more with other people.

The alliterations and Dexter's inner voice grated my nerves. It was okay at first, kind of like personality quirks you find endearing in a new partner that you start to hate after the honeymoon phase is over. It became cheesy and annoying very quickly. It's definitely a personal preference, so your miles may vary.

I think because I read so much true crime, this book never stood a chance. It was so interesting at the start and had a ton of potential. The author could have delved so much deeper into the mind of a serial killer, but ultimately it felt really surface level and boring.

Egy évembe telt, mire végigverekedtem magam ezen a rövid kis regényen. Kb. a háromnegyedétől ráfanyalodtam a hangoskönyv verzióra, ami mellesleg szörnyű minőségű volt, ráadásul nem is Michael C. Hall mesél, amit lényegében ostobaságnak tartok, legalábbis én simán fölvettem volna vele újra, miután megkapta a szerepet a sorozatban.
Ja, igen, a könyv. Egyáltalán nem fekszik nekem Lindsay stílusa, bár nem tudnám konkrétan megfogalmazni, mi bajom van vele. Untam nagyjából elejétől a végéig. Közben többször elgondolkodtam, vajon akkor sem tetszene-e, ha előbb olvastam volna, s csak aztán látom a sorozatot. Végül arra jutottam, hogy Juci értékelésével kell egyetértenem, Lindsay közel sem olyan érdekfeszítően alakította a történetet és a karaktereket, mint a forgatókönyvírók.
Azért a folytatásoknak is adok esélyt, hátha jobban sikerültek. Mindenesetre az első rész lelombozó élmény volt.