Wednesday, July 30, 2025
Book Review: Time for Death
Thursday, February 27, 2025
Book Review: Nocturne House
Thursday, January 2, 2025
Book Review: Whickering Place
Wednesday, November 20, 2024
Book Review: Dark Roots
Thursday, November 14, 2024
Book Review: The Quest for Captain Sammy's Treasure
Wednesday, November 13, 2024
Book Review: The Neighbor
Monday, November 4, 2024
Book Review: Ketil and Yitzy's Adventure in the House of Lost Dreams
Monday, October 28, 2024
Book Review: Girlgoyle
Monday, July 1, 2024
Book Review: With a Blighted Touch
Monday, May 27, 2024
Book Review: Beneath the Flesh
Friday, May 10, 2024
New Book Review: Pearse
Friday, April 26, 2024
Book Review: The Hanging Tree
Tuesday, April 23, 2024
Book Review: Echoes of Insanity
Tuesday, November 7, 2023
Book Review: We Are the Crisis
Monday, May 8, 2023
A Book I Refused to Sell: The Exorcist
Book Too Bad to Sell: The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty
This one is not a book you can buy from me. I heard about, but didn’t see, the 1974 movie, so when I found this former bestseller at a benefit sale I bought it. I paid a dime. After reading the book I feel that I was overcharged.
Here’s what I knew could be expected from The Exorcist: A child, whose parents don’t believe in demons but who may be possessed by one, becomes ill and, in addition to all the normal disgusting things sick patients do, says a lot of bad words. A priest is called in to exorcise the demon. Priest dies. Child recovers. The only intellectual curiosity I was able to bring to this book was the question of whether it had more of a plot than that. The answer is that it has...but people never talked about the plot, because it’s an incompetent plot. Our standards for cheap horror stories have been raised by Stephen King. I can’t imagine how Blatty ever got this clunker printed.
The child’s parents are divorced. The father’s name is Howard. The child starts chatting with someone called “Captain Howdy” via Ouija board. (This device was marketed as a board game, along with Parchesi and Monopoly, in leaflets in cereal boxes in 1973.) The mother has a foul-mouthed alcoholic friend. When teachers note that the child has become hyperactive, she’s started using bad language just like Mommy’s friend Burke. Then the child really starts acting out, coming downstairs into a grown-up party and wetting the carpet. There’s a suggestion that Burke has been “outside” the child’s bedroom. The child’s not the only one who saw him.
So what does the mother do? She calls a doctor and starts frantically feeding the child psychiatric drugs. The child gets sicker. This actually happens and there’s nothing supernatural about it. The child doesn’t need exorcism, although Burke and the child’s mother might need that. The child needs detox.
But, for whatever reasons, Blatty didn’t spin a simple tale of the kind of child abuse by a family friend that was indeed going on in 1974. At the time there was a lot of sympathy for the idea that “a gentle sexual initiation” that didn’t obviously damage the body of a preadolescent child might be considered a good thing—or where the psychological consequences were the stuff of horror movies. But Blatty seems to want it to be part of the reality of the story that the evidence against Burke is just a bonus effect thrown in by a Demon of Fevers and Confusion. A lot of things apparently are being done, and we never find out who’s doing what.
Clearly the standards for popular horror fiction have been raised by Stephen King, whose novels may feature demons with the power to becloud characters’ minds (consider the powers of evil in Pet Sematary), but always make it possible for the reader, at least, to figure out what’s supposed to be going on.
Blatty, I suspect, just wanted to sell a lot of copies by breaking a current taboo. Certain rude words really had been unprintable, and seldom used in company that was “mixed” either in genders or in status levels, for long enough that some readers really wanted to read examples of how the words were used. Blatty did not actually tell them. In The Exorcist the sort of people who used bad language use it, but they don’t use it realistically; they use unprintable nouns where in real life they would have used unprintable verbs, and vice versa. The child utters obscenities she might have heard her mother actually use, but the laborers use obscenities like a lot of foreign exchange students who hadn’t been here very long.
The title suggests that The Exorcist ought to be a psychological study of a priest. Perhaps Blatty didn’t pick the title; he doesn’t even try to write anything so challenging. All three of the priests who get speaking parts are flat characters, given little more in the way of personality than the child. The narrative is such a flimsy connection between gross-out scenes that there’s room to imagine that Father Karras, the priest who gets the biggest part in the book, just might have been the baddie, the “sick priest” who, in the moments of doubt and depression we’re told he’s had, committed the blasphemies that awakened the demon. But if that had been what Blatty was trying to say, why didn’t he say it? Possibly because he wasn’t really trying to say anything; just trying to cash in on people’s fascination with the forbidden by writing a book with lots and lots and lots of formerly unprintable words in it. He shows no more concern with Karras’s soul than with Regan’s. Which makes his book a kind of psychological pornography.
The real deal breaker is that Blatty insisted not only on getting the rude words all wrong but also on getting the medical details all wrong. You don’t feed that much Librium to a 75-pound child in the hope that that child will ever go back to school again. Or walk.
So this one is not A Book You Can Buy From Me. If a child starts saying rude words just the way one of the parents’ friends does, it’s probably a bid for attention—needed attention. If the child says the parents’ friend has been outside the child’s bedroom, dumping a whole bottle of pills into the former friend as he lies concussed on the floor might be the sort of thing a jury would understand, but don’t even think about doping the child.
Tuesday, April 11, 2023
New Book Review: The Game with No Name
Wednesday, September 7, 2022
Book Review: Legion
Years ago, I read two of the most horrific works of fiction ever written about Washington. Worse than (the candidate you most oppose)'s campaign biography, even. William Peter Blatty's Exorcist and its sequel, Legion, are horror stories. At least The Exorcist is a horror story; Legion qualifies as another one, but in Legion the diplomat-turned-novelist seemed to be trying to explain what he really believed about the Christian theological concepts his fiction exploited. Anyway I said this web site would never sell The Exorcist, because (I grew up with the various violations of taboos that made the movie so controversial, but) I could not endorse even a fictional depiction of anyone giving a child that much of those drugs. Right. But I did sell Legion, despite having better books by Arab-American authors including Blatty's presumably nonfiction memoir, and here's the review.
Title: Legion
Author: William Peter Blatty
Date: 1983
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
ISBN: none
Length: 248 pages
Quote: "He stared at the sun coming up behind the Capitol, streaking the Potomac with orange light, and then down at the outrage."
Twelve years after the end of The Exorcist, surviving characters see a new outbreak of horrific senseless murders. And who's doing them? Physical evidence found on one victim seems to implicate a little old lady. A neurologist with a brain tumor sees and meets his double, which became a harbinger of death, according to superstition, because it's an hallucination associated with the kind of cancer that's killing Dr. Amfortas. Some of the murders involve medications in use in a psychiatric hospital, where one of the doctors is definitely an evil person, but is he a murderer? And then, deep inside the maximum-security psychiatric unit in the hospital...
Blatty, a Christian Arab-American, focussed on the Jesuits at Georgetown University in The Exorcist; the main protagonist, Father Karras, reacted to the satanic murders as a Catholic priest. Readers undoubtedly remember what happened to him. In Legion the main protagonist, Bill Kinderman, is Jewish, with a cosmopolitan philosophy, a snarky sense of humor, and a tendency to use a wider Yiddish vocabulary than the average American has...and a philosophical preparation for the idea that what he thought for all this time had happened to Karras just might have happened to someone else.
Although its ending is in some ways less horrific, and its medical science is less outrageously wrong, Legion is still a sequel to The Exorcist. It's not meant to be a pleasant read, not even an enjoyably scary "Aren't you glad such things don't really exist?" sort of horror story. Sadistic, satanic, serial murders do exist. Evil, as well as good, lurks in the hearts of men (and women) in the real world, as in the world of these novels.
What you'll like, if you read this book at all: the sense of place, Kinderman's philosophical musings, that making a movie of this one wouldn't require a child to act out things children shouldn't know about.
What some readers will love, and some will hate: Legion is literary fiction. It starts out like a detective story, but doesn't follow the rules for one. I've toyed with the idea of writing a detective story where the murderer is clever enough to use different methods. Legion goes further outside the rules than that.
What you probably won't like: it's about evil. Evil is banal. Fictional murders are tedious reading.
If you want to read a novel that takes you back, mentally, to dear old D.C., Legion will do that, and the fact that most of the bad things happen in snooty old pay-more-for-less, rather-be-killed-in-city-traffic-than-risk-outsiders-coming-in-by-Metro Georgetown might be considered a plus point. (Contractors who commute all over the Metropolitan Area fantasize about bad things happening to Georgetown.)
In a way, despite having a Jewish protagonist, Legion can be considered a Christian book. So could The Exorcist--although in my judgment it was a bad one, and when a bookseller rates a book too bad to be resold at a profit, it's very bad indeed. In a way Legion might be considered a palinode, a retraction of some things Blatty seemed to be saying in The Exorcist about the nature of good and evil.
His views of good and evil are, however, his own. They're not the doctrine of the Church. They're not heresies; they're just the musings of an individual Christian, as distinct from the doctrine of Christianity. At the end of Legion Blatty seems to have reached the point of saying what I often say about "devils" or "demons": I don't claim to know that such creatures exist in any "real" or personal sense, but some human behavior can only be rationally explained by postulating some sort of Evil Principle. Blatty goes further: In the Bible a person suffering from the kind of painful self-destructive insanity then identified as "a devil" says to Jesus, channelling the man's "devil" or devils, "Our name is Legion, for we are many." Blatty locates the "many devils" within humans. Kinderman asserts toward the end that "we," including Kinderman, "are Legion."
Well, yes, ultimately...Churches I attended called the sort of points most Christians concede to the Evil Principle a matter of temptation not possession. If evil "possesses" Charles Manson enough to make him delight in murder, it's lucky to get as far, with most of us, as suggesting "Someone else will take care of your job." There are, however, Christians who think it's generally healthy to remind people that keeping a library book a day overdue might be genuinely uncharitable (whether anyone else has shown any interest in that book in the past ten years, or not) and the thought "Lots of people keep library books overdue" might come directly from the Evil Principle. Other Christians concede that this may be true but think it's an uncharitable, unhelpful thing to say...and some Christians get into debates that generate heat rather than light, and Blatty goes home and writes Legion.
It's not a Christian book.There must be more edifying Christian books to read.