Back to Ripley

Last night D and I were discussing book shifting. We are attempting to group unread books from books that we love but have read. It's a constantly changing landscape. I daresay a landscape based on mountains because there are very tall piles of books. Very. I am reluctant to part with books that I might read again, a recurring problem as winter approaches. Boredom for me is almost always solved by re-reading.

Anyway, D wanted to move Patricia Highsmith. We have a Ripley omnibus containing the first 3 Ripley novels. I objected because I re-read old Tom on a fairly regular schedule. Almost as often as I re-read Holden Caulfield. So Ripley stayed on the bedroom bookcase.

Then I read Charlaine Harris' book and blog. Apparently, Jack Reacher was put on trial as a panel discussion at Bouchercon. And found guilty. Murdering and what have you. Bad form you know. This made Charlaine think about all the various protagonists who are seriously flawed. Not in that personal, self-destructive way. No the ones who are a danger to the people around them. As she said, she'd want Reacher around on a desert island to work his magic, but if she had a broken leg and he was hungry, maybe not.

So I started wondering about all the characters we love in spite of ourselves. I really, really want Tom Ripley to get away with murder. I want Dexter to continue to rid Miami of pond scum. And as a nod to Charlaine, I don't want people staking my favorite vampire, Eric, even though he kills other people pretty regularly. Examining this impulse closely makes me feel slightly immoral.

My rooting for the bad boys goes beyond actively wanting these murderers to go free. I detest the goody-two-shoes of literature as well. My first memorable experience involved The Heart of Midlothian by Sir Walter Scott. I wanted to shoot the heroic Jeanie Dean. Her dilemma involved telling a lie to prevent the execution of her sister or going all around the houses to prove her sister's innocence. Seriously, she knew the girl was innocent. Tell the lie and be done with it. The other method required her to walk all over Scotland, importuning people. I still shake my head after reading that. Expediency, girl. The end result was the same and much less exhausting.

I know most of my loving these rascals means that the authors are just that good. I understand the murdererer's motivation and approve of it. Mysteries being little moral dramas allow the reader to see the world in black and white. Bad guys and good guys are easy to recognize in this moral drama. The good guy wears a white hat. He has good intentions, even if he uses unconventional methods. He hunts down the bad people. You know you cheer when the bad guy dies. And really you shouldn't. But isn't it delicious to play god? And after this ghastly election, isn't it refreshing when the good guys win?