The original 1981 novel by Thomas Harris, the first ever appearance of Hannibal Lecter. Peak weirdo fiction.
“Special Investigator” Will Graham (never properly FBI) has retired with his wife and stepson to Florida following a series of traumatic experiences with serial killers – notably his near-death at the hands of Dr Hannibal “the Cannibal” Lecter (psychiatrist and professional crap-stirrer). Now, Graham’s old overseer Jack Crawford has brought him back to catch a new killer who slaughters entire families on the full moon. Meanwhile, the quiet and disabled Francis Dolarhyde seeks both a new family to “Transform” and the approval of the now incarcerated Lecter to his “Becoming” as the violent Red Dragon. To probably no one’s surprise, this book ranges from disturbing to nearly perverted. However, what makes it truly special is how darkly funny and also deeply empathetic it is. It bluntly presents serial killing for what it is: a tragedy on all sides where innocent people die because of how society failed one person.
Maybe it’s because I have the “scared disease” (GAD) but horror is a staple of the “adrenaline” genre since, for me, adrenaline and emotion cannot be separated. But “adrenaline” doesn’t have to be horror. People often debate if Red Dragon or its sequel The Silence of the Lambs count as horror. What is not debated is their intent to put you on the edge of your seat, eyes glued to the page/screen (sometimes regretfully), and think fast. In fact, this final aspect of the “adrenaline” genre for me is the most frustrating. It is my first time reading something of this genre and the book certainly had its desire effect. Even knowing the ending already, I burned through it in two days. But this means there are details I likely missed in that fever of fear and excitement and I dislike that feeling…especially when the book is so good.
Harris, T. (1981). Red Dragon. G. P. Putnam’s Sons
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