The house of horrors

One of the primary challenges faced when reading a work as iconic as Psycho is familiarity. This was the third time I had read the book, and I’ve seen the movie at least as many times. There was no element of surprise waiting for me in reading this. At first, I tried to read as someone coming new to the story might, but I quickly discovered that was not working. I was simply too familiar with it. But then again, I thought, “Isn’t everyone?” This story is so much a part of our shared popular culture that I doubt anyone could honestly come to this book without some knowledge of what was going to happen.

I didn’t really want to approach my critique as a comparison between the book and the movie, but I think there are some significant elements there that I would like to address. I want to avoid the question of “which is better” because in this case, I think both forms bring something interesting to the story. One area where the film clearly excels is in the creation of atmosphere. While some of this is simply the difference between a visual and written medium, I think there is care taken on the part of Hitchcock to add to the atmosphere in a way that Bloch did not. Take a look at the following clip:

 

 

Notice the way that Hitchcock plays with chiaroscuro lighting to create depth and atmosphere and bring focus to the stuffed birds. Granted, it may be hard to create “lighting” in a book, but I do think you can create a feeling of “darkness” with words, something I don’t really feel Bloch does. There are also elements of foreshadowing in the film that seem to be absent from the book (and since I already knew the story, I was looking for them). In the scene above, for instance, Norman’s obsession with taxidermy is emphasized in a way that it isn’t in the book. In fact, it’s barely mentioned in the book. Also, the fact that the first several birds shown are birds of prey adds an element of foreshadowing not present in the book. Norman’s claim that he likes to stuff birds because they are “passive” is belied by his posing of these birds in aggressive positions. This incongruence between what we see and what he says help to alert us to the fact that he may not be what he seems. What’s more, when Norman states that Marion “eats like a bird” (a phrase I don’t recall seeing anywhere in the book), he is connecting Marion to these dead creatures, once again creating an element of foreshadowing. This connection is heightened and sexualized as Norman absent-mindedly strokes the one stuffed bird as he talks to Marion. These are elements of atmosphere that I felt were really lacking in the novel.

Where the movie excels in atmosphere, however, the book excels in characterization. First, I’d like to talk about the difference between the physical description of Norman Bates in the book and the actual physical appearance of Anthony Perkins in the movie. To me, this made a tremendous difference in how I related to Norman. In the book, Norman is the stereotypical “momma’s boy”—shy, bespectacled, fat, and sweaty—whereas Anthony Perkins did not give off the same vibe for me. He was reserved and awkward, yes, but not nearly as painfully shy as the Norman in the book and certainly not as physically repulsive (not that I necessarily think there is anything wrong with shy, bespectacled, fat, sweaty men—but Bloch’s tone as he described Norman, and Norman’s own reactions to himself give the air of repulsion).

 

 

Nor was Perkins as sympathetic to me. I felt for the Norman in the book. I saw him as nearly as much of a victim as Mary. Perkins’s portrayal of Norman was more sinister. Without the access to his internal monologue, the character loses his sympathetic motivation. Likewise, Perkins’s appearance does not evoke the same kind of pity or revulsion that we might tend to have toward a character that looks as Norman does in the book. For me, Perkins’s Norman is creepy and uncomfortable. He sets me on edge immediately, despite the fact that he looks “normal” and acts very innocent. Unlike the Norman in the book, who I know from the start is “not quite right,” the Norman in the movie seems like he could be anyone I might know. I think this might have been intentional on the part of Hitchcock. It seems to me that he could have been playing off the idea that the psycho can be someone who appears perfectly normal to everyone else, whereas Bloch seemed to be playing off the idea that no matter how “odd” someone seems, no one wants to believe there is a psychotic killer among their own. Although I think Perkins’s portrayal of Norman Bates is brilliant and still one of the best horror film performances ever, I think in this instance, I prefer the book-Norman to the film-Norman. I like the complexity that is lent to the story through the sympathetic character.

I also appreciate the fact that Mary was not “demonized” in the book as she is in the movie. What I mean by this is that in the book, Mary is characterized as a “good” girl. She is not a “slut,” sleeping around on her lunch hour as she is in the movie, and her theft is done out of a “wholesome” desire to finally be able to marry the man she loves (who is also an honorable man valiantly trying to pay off a debt that wasn’t even his). Furthermore, just before being murdered, she realizes she has been wrong and plans to make amends. This is all very different from the movie, where the character of Marion, and her subsequent murder, can be read as a “warning” to “immoral” women. Once again, I feel the interior monologue available in the book offers a more complex and humanizing view of the characters.

The other thing I really liked about the book as opposed to the movie is Bloch’s commentary on our cultural obsession with psychos in the last chapters. The fact that Bloch specifically mentions the real murderer, Ed Gein, whose story was obviously the inspiration for Psycho, is interesting considering Bloch’s social commentary on the sensationalizing of this kind of story by the media, the local “rumor-mongers” (210) and “morbid curiosity-lovers” (211) who would pay exorbitant prices to stay in the motel. It seems that he is profiting off this national obsession while simultaneously condemning it. I’m not sure it is the best policy for a writer to criticize the very audience he is trying to appeal to. Although, this kind of metacommentary is certainly not unheard of in literature, it is not very common in popular/genre fiction, which is what makes it noteworthy in this book. It seems that maybe Bloch was attempting a social critique that was lost in the story’s popularity.