Brilliance Amidst Mediocrity

When I finished reading Red Dragon over a week ago, I was happy because I thought I would finally get a blog done ahead of schedule. But all week long, every time I sat down to write this blog, I could think of nothing to say. Don’t get me wrong, I like the book well enough. I just don’t know that I have much to say about it. I don’t hate the book; I don’t love it. It’s just kinda “meh,” in my opinion.

A few years back, I went through a true crime/forensic thriller phase in my reading. I devoured books just like Red Dragon, and the more technically forensic, the better. That’s one area where I feel that Red Dragon excels—the forensics. The forensics in this novel are quite detailed and seem—at least to my knowledge—to be fairly accurate. The plot is also fairly well-constructed. But in other areas, the book felt a bit flat to me.

One thing that struck me as I read is how dated the book is. The story line of Red Dragon could not happen today. In today’s digital world, Dolarhyde would not have the access to home movies like he does in the book. Sure, there are ways the story could be updated—he could select his victims from family videos posted on Facebook, for instance—but as it stands, the novel as-is could not exist in a modern setting. Of course, that happens to books all the time. Technology changes. What struck me, however, is that Harris seemed to know that is book was dated, and chose to write it that way anyway. At one point when the story is focused on Dolarhyde obtaining infrared film, Harris explains that the rise in video cameras had hurt the home-movie business. Here Harris seems to acknowledge the dated-ness of his own novel, which I find curious.

For me, I think one of the bigger let-downs of this novel has always been in the characterization. Usually, Harris’s later novels just teem with brilliant characterizations, but the characters in this novel are blah. They all seem very flat to me. Graham is whiny, and I totally don’t believe the relationship between him and his wife. It feels very forced. I understand that there is tension between them because of the choices he makes, but it’s all just a little too polite and stilted. Crawford is also very one-dimensional. Although he does demonstrate some of the manipulation he later becomes known for, he doesn’t have that delicious sliminess that he develops in later stories. Dolarhyde is also very stereotypical—although, to be fair, maybe it was different in 1981, before the veritable explosion of forensic novels, movies, and television shows hit the pop culture scene. Still, the character reminded me a bit too much of Norman Bates, and I had to wonder if Harris used Bates as a model for Dolarhyde.

The one thing that does make this book remarkable, however, is its legacy. To me, the most interesting character in Red Dragon is Hannibal Lecter, but not because of how Lecter is portrayed in this book, but because of what I know he will evolve into. Harris recognized the spark he created in Hannibal Lecter and went on to use that character to build one of the most memorable and oddly loved villains in literary and cinematic history. The brilliance is in his ability to recognize this goldmine.