Although I did read them out of order, I finished my last Mr Ripley “murder mystery” today – The Boy Who Followed Ripley – which was actually the fourth of the Ripliad, coming before Under Water. Highsmith wrote about her protagonist over a period of thirty-six years, constituting a time line where Ripley held true to his talented traits, continuing to kill with blunt instruments and witnessing suicides and accidental deaths always near water. Maybe others have delved for symbolic meaning, but I do not feel up to it, or even interested.
As the Ripley saga matures, Highsmith endows his victims with baser qualities, connections to criminal activities themselves whether art forgeries, kidnapping or the Mob. Somehow, this might lead a reader to decide Ripley’s murders are more justifiable. Others could conclude that through his associates, he is lured into executing his proclivities towards the use of violence.
Ripley becomes “heroic” only because he encounters incompetence in his pursuers, indifference in his victims’ survivors and indulgence in his wife. Although not quite as unsettling as Ripley’s Game where he orchestrates the corruption and demise of a neighbor, in TBWFR, he tries to allay the guilt of a teenager who killed his father, initially as coldly and without apparent motivation as Tom’s youthful murders. Tom wants Frank Pierson to shed his guilt, enjoy his family’s wealth and get on with his life. Like Ripley, Frank’s family does not believe him guilty and the only person who does, like most of the characters Highsmith populates the Ripliad with, is made out to be unstable and unbelievable herself.
There will never be a Sherlock Holmes or even Columbo antagonist to bring Ripley to justice. His charm will forever cover his depravity and greed. A reader looking for an uber-theme has to focus on the concept of justice and retribution. One is left to question how comfortable it is to live in a world wherein the scales are not balanced all of the time. How ironic that I was reading these books during the trial of Casey Anthony acquitted in the murder of her three year old daughter. Will Casey become rich from writing her own “If I Did It” book? Will she revert to her partying days? Marry? Ever birth another child? The wisdom of the crowd calls for her punishment, as do those who get to know the fictional Mr. Ripley.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Two More Ripleys Done
Now all that is left is The Boy Who Followed Ripley which I started last night. Read Ripley's Game out of sequence, after I read Ripley Under Water. Will review them however in chronological order. Ripley's Game is most unsettling. In Ripley Under Ground, Highsmith played with layer upon layer of false identities; here she introduces a pyramid of men each and all looking to find an agent to perform a criminal act so as to avoid being personally guilty of murder. Who is more guilty: Ripley for suggesting Trevanny to Reeves or Reeves for asking Ripley to find him some unsuspecting innocent to kill a couple of Mafioso looking to take over illegal gambling in Hamburg?
Is Trevanny less guilty in accepting the "job" because he is terminally ill with leukemia or because he is motivated to provide an inheritance for his wife and son? There is a review quote on the front of TBWFR from the Cleveland Plain Dealer that expresses my thoughts most clearly: "Highsmith skews your sense of literary justice, tilting your internal scales of right and wrong." Coincidentally, when a co-worker mentioned he saw John Malkovich as Ripley in RG and asked me whether I thought Ripley was a good guy or bad guy. I immediately said "bad," especially as in this novel, he entertains himself by using Trevanny as the hit man.
Later that night, I was mentally comparing Ripley to James Bond. Both pile up bodies, live high, and suffer no lasting consequences of their violent acts. But Bond has a license to kill ... Ripley acts exclusively out of self interest, to maintain a high society life style. His veneer of financially endowed well breeding is his cover for being a sociopath. His neighbors and fellow townsmen all seem to ignore the coincidences and rumors that surround his life. To quote: "Tom ... was aware of his reputation, that many people mistrusted him, avoided him. Tom had often thought that his ego would have been shattered long ago -- the ego of an average person would have been shattered -- except for the fact that people, once they got to know him ... and spent an evening, liked him ..." Only Madame Trevanny at the conclusion of the book expresses the readers' appraisal: she spits on him ... but then she doesn't go to the police, preserving her own husband's reputation and the ill-gotten gains that permit her to move out of the small village and move up in social standing.
On the other hand, Ripley Under Water seems to me to be the most contrived of Highsmith's plots so far. While it ties back to Ripley's dumping Murchison's corpse in a nearby canal, his victim from Ripley Under Ground, the character of David Pritchard who comes to France to dredge the waterways for his body seems to have dropped in with no clear motive or cause of justice. Pritchard and his wife are perceived by Ripley as low class almost hippie Americans, completely unworthy opponents. They are so beneath him intellectually, that his doesn't even have to dirty his hands killing them; there greed makes them self-destruct. It was not suspenseful, merely a bridge between others in the series, marking time.
In the meantime, I've squeezed in some movie nights and afternoons, finally finding The King's Speech perchance on the library shelves, despite being 182 in line on the reserve list. I liked it but not as much as the Hollywood hype lead me to expect as well as elevator talk at work. A bigger surprise and enjoyment was Nowhere Boy, the late teen years of Lennon as he grows into music. Excellent performances and engaging story.
Is Trevanny less guilty in accepting the "job" because he is terminally ill with leukemia or because he is motivated to provide an inheritance for his wife and son? There is a review quote on the front of TBWFR from the Cleveland Plain Dealer that expresses my thoughts most clearly: "Highsmith skews your sense of literary justice, tilting your internal scales of right and wrong." Coincidentally, when a co-worker mentioned he saw John Malkovich as Ripley in RG and asked me whether I thought Ripley was a good guy or bad guy. I immediately said "bad," especially as in this novel, he entertains himself by using Trevanny as the hit man.
Later that night, I was mentally comparing Ripley to James Bond. Both pile up bodies, live high, and suffer no lasting consequences of their violent acts. But Bond has a license to kill ... Ripley acts exclusively out of self interest, to maintain a high society life style. His veneer of financially endowed well breeding is his cover for being a sociopath. His neighbors and fellow townsmen all seem to ignore the coincidences and rumors that surround his life. To quote: "Tom ... was aware of his reputation, that many people mistrusted him, avoided him. Tom had often thought that his ego would have been shattered long ago -- the ego of an average person would have been shattered -- except for the fact that people, once they got to know him ... and spent an evening, liked him ..." Only Madame Trevanny at the conclusion of the book expresses the readers' appraisal: she spits on him ... but then she doesn't go to the police, preserving her own husband's reputation and the ill-gotten gains that permit her to move out of the small village and move up in social standing.
On the other hand, Ripley Under Water seems to me to be the most contrived of Highsmith's plots so far. While it ties back to Ripley's dumping Murchison's corpse in a nearby canal, his victim from Ripley Under Ground, the character of David Pritchard who comes to France to dredge the waterways for his body seems to have dropped in with no clear motive or cause of justice. Pritchard and his wife are perceived by Ripley as low class almost hippie Americans, completely unworthy opponents. They are so beneath him intellectually, that his doesn't even have to dirty his hands killing them; there greed makes them self-destruct. It was not suspenseful, merely a bridge between others in the series, marking time.
In the meantime, I've squeezed in some movie nights and afternoons, finally finding The King's Speech perchance on the library shelves, despite being 182 in line on the reserve list. I liked it but not as much as the Hollywood hype lead me to expect as well as elevator talk at work. A bigger surprise and enjoyment was Nowhere Boy, the late teen years of Lennon as he grows into music. Excellent performances and engaging story.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Ripliad
Our face to face book club is on summer hiatus. At the June meeting, several of us suggested we just meet showing our true reading addictions -- mystery novels. Blog buddy mentioned she'd like to read The Talented Mr. Ripley and maybe double header the group get together with the movie. No date was agreed to, but off I went into the wealth of Patricia Highsmith.
Finished TTMR over a week ago, and the movie, as I recall it, holds remarkably true to the novel. If anything, Ripley comes across as more swarmy, a very high functioning sociopath. What surprised me was that TTMR was the first of five Ripley-centered novels Highsmith wrote. Finished the second in the series published fifteen years later, Ripley Under Ground. These books are well-written page turners and I could hardly wait for Tom to kill his first victim and construct his rationalization and sit back for his alibis to successfully acquit him.
RUP has Tom involved in art forgeries. The theme of being something that is not appears everywhere in the plot line. As well as the artwork being faked, Tom and another character maintain disguises, both pretending to be the long-dead forged artist Derwatt. Now Tom has garnered a couple of slightly awry accomplices: the unexplained wife Heloise and Reeves who uses Tom to convey incriminating tapes.
Highsmith does not follow the standard murder mystery formula: Tom is not brought to justice. He is not a likeable rogue; she portrays him as a cold-blooded opportunist with a dandy's demeanor, hungry for the finest trappings life affords. Can't wait to finish the other three.
Finished TTMR over a week ago, and the movie, as I recall it, holds remarkably true to the novel. If anything, Ripley comes across as more swarmy, a very high functioning sociopath. What surprised me was that TTMR was the first of five Ripley-centered novels Highsmith wrote. Finished the second in the series published fifteen years later, Ripley Under Ground. These books are well-written page turners and I could hardly wait for Tom to kill his first victim and construct his rationalization and sit back for his alibis to successfully acquit him.
RUP has Tom involved in art forgeries. The theme of being something that is not appears everywhere in the plot line. As well as the artwork being faked, Tom and another character maintain disguises, both pretending to be the long-dead forged artist Derwatt. Now Tom has garnered a couple of slightly awry accomplices: the unexplained wife Heloise and Reeves who uses Tom to convey incriminating tapes.
Highsmith does not follow the standard murder mystery formula: Tom is not brought to justice. He is not a likeable rogue; she portrays him as a cold-blooded opportunist with a dandy's demeanor, hungry for the finest trappings life affords. Can't wait to finish the other three.
Summer Escape Movies
The past few weeks, I have been neither scholarly nor dedicated about reading or even watching movies, only marginally adhering to the 2011 lust list theme. Last night, did an old chick flick, the 1991 Oscar- nominated Prince of Tides -- mainly because I remembered the story was written by Pat Conroy, not for any movie idolatry of either star, Nick Nolte (before we knew he was a drunk) and Barbra Streisand at the acme of her NYC Jewish princess cycle. The movie is so old that Blythe Danner is Nolte's wife, but she still evidences the source of Gwenyth's acting ability and good genes.
And yes, the story is about adultery and Nick leaves NYC and returns to his wife and three daughters in South Carolina. Conroy writes of violence and repression and has a wonderful subplot of what it took Nick/Tom's mother to claw her way to social prominence whereas both Blythe and Barbra are credentialed doctors. Nick seems to have inherited his mother's dissatisfaction with life and it is only after another family crisis and a time of reaffirmation coaching Barbra's son, that he can re-center. I was going to say when I started writing about Conroy that most of his characters are portrayed as worthy. Even Barbra's cheating, taunting husband has passed his musical genius on to their son; Nick's mother, despite her greed and cultivated false facade, has made him resilient and sturdy.
In contrast, last week I watched Swept Away by Lina Wertmuller, that is the original 1974 version in Italian, not the remake with Madonna (I can't even imagine). Yes, the male lead slaps his women around and the sex with the wealthy woman he becomes shipwrecked with is at times rough. Funny, I remembered that I saw the movie before not during those scenes of sex on the beach, but when Giannini is in the phone booth at the end of the movie trying to convince Mariangela not to return to her husband. So how do I stretch a comparison of these two films? At the end of each, both are couples are back with their wedded partners. The movie-viewer is left to imagine which marriages will last, be happy, or even be improved from the adulteries. In my mind, Nick fares the best. Although he pines for a parallel life in NYC, he has matured and returns to an intact, functioning family where his wife's infidelity itself only was a call for attention. Barbra might lose her post-coital smile but she is left with her career and probably significant alimony. Mariangela's class identification and lust for money prevails ; her interlude of passion occurred only because of timing, place and crises. Comfort and status are restored and her previous posture and politics readily resumed. Giannini, too, seems to revert to his class surprisingly to a wife who has the innate talents to hold her own with his machismo.
Finally, a comment about both films having been directed by women (Streisand did hers). Although Prince of Tide is a stronger narrative thanks to the talents of Conroy, Barbra's version seems to women's movement dominant to me, with the heroine successful in terms of outer appearances and status symbols. Wertmuller's subliminal message is European class distinctions and the dance of their interactions and envies. Both cover themes in ways that are not nostalgic despite their releases 20 and 40 years ago.
And yes, the story is about adultery and Nick leaves NYC and returns to his wife and three daughters in South Carolina. Conroy writes of violence and repression and has a wonderful subplot of what it took Nick/Tom's mother to claw her way to social prominence whereas both Blythe and Barbra are credentialed doctors. Nick seems to have inherited his mother's dissatisfaction with life and it is only after another family crisis and a time of reaffirmation coaching Barbra's son, that he can re-center. I was going to say when I started writing about Conroy that most of his characters are portrayed as worthy. Even Barbra's cheating, taunting husband has passed his musical genius on to their son; Nick's mother, despite her greed and cultivated false facade, has made him resilient and sturdy.
In contrast, last week I watched Swept Away by Lina Wertmuller, that is the original 1974 version in Italian, not the remake with Madonna (I can't even imagine). Yes, the male lead slaps his women around and the sex with the wealthy woman he becomes shipwrecked with is at times rough. Funny, I remembered that I saw the movie before not during those scenes of sex on the beach, but when Giannini is in the phone booth at the end of the movie trying to convince Mariangela not to return to her husband. So how do I stretch a comparison of these two films? At the end of each, both are couples are back with their wedded partners. The movie-viewer is left to imagine which marriages will last, be happy, or even be improved from the adulteries. In my mind, Nick fares the best. Although he pines for a parallel life in NYC, he has matured and returns to an intact, functioning family where his wife's infidelity itself only was a call for attention. Barbra might lose her post-coital smile but she is left with her career and probably significant alimony. Mariangela's class identification and lust for money prevails ; her interlude of passion occurred only because of timing, place and crises. Comfort and status are restored and her previous posture and politics readily resumed. Giannini, too, seems to revert to his class surprisingly to a wife who has the innate talents to hold her own with his machismo.
Finally, a comment about both films having been directed by women (Streisand did hers). Although Prince of Tide is a stronger narrative thanks to the talents of Conroy, Barbra's version seems to women's movement dominant to me, with the heroine successful in terms of outer appearances and status symbols. Wertmuller's subliminal message is European class distinctions and the dance of their interactions and envies. Both cover themes in ways that are not nostalgic despite their releases 20 and 40 years ago.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
This Time, He Dies: To Be Sung Underwater
At the half way point of 2011, I guess I should assess my efforts so far on the lust list. It has not been all that I'd hope for ... including the latest novel, To Be Sung Underwater by Tom McNeal. A bit reminiscent of The Last Time They Met, we have two middle aged people trying to reconstruct the passion of first love. Judith has her summer of Willy Blunt just before she leaves for Stanford from Nebraska. Willy marries her best friend Deena and Judith marries Malcolm. (I think the names have a subconscious, or not so hidden, class elitism implicit in them). Willy remains a carpenter, Judith an unfulfilled screen editor. Her boredom at work, her inability to connect with her daughter and her aloof husband who may or may not be having an affair, all contribute to her withdrawal from social engagements ... actually hiding out in a self-storage space with the furniture from Nebraska.
The stored bedroom set reminds her of the lazy summer afternoons of lovemaking with Willy and she hires an investigator to track him down, not difficult as he hasn't really moved. She calls, he says to come immediately.
Yes, all the key elements of passionate love are ticked off but rather formulaically. Rather than a lost love theme, I am left with the uber-theme of "what directs your life." Judith was already plotting her adult life out before she was legacied into Stanford. Malcolm appeared as the ideal husband to execute her plan. However, Judith also heard the chides of her mother along with the muted success of her father. She ends up as cynical about marriage and mothering and the book concludes with her living as before by default.
No, I wouldn't recommend TBSUW; but then again none of the R-rated French movies I'm watching appeal to me lately either. Rather than getting charged up from film or novels, I go to work happiest when I've seen a doe and her fawn in the yard followed by the rampant rabbits ... when I find two pair of jeans and two tees on sale for $42, total ... when I make three batches of kale chips ... when I read how my son and his fiancee didn't want to head back home after their visit. Yes, I am as restless as Judith; queasy at work, worried about my health, wanting to do something out of my normal boundaries. But I promised myself that over the summer I will live fully in the moment, the moment being my definition of pleasurable comfort.
The stored bedroom set reminds her of the lazy summer afternoons of lovemaking with Willy and she hires an investigator to track him down, not difficult as he hasn't really moved. She calls, he says to come immediately.
Yes, all the key elements of passionate love are ticked off but rather formulaically. Rather than a lost love theme, I am left with the uber-theme of "what directs your life." Judith was already plotting her adult life out before she was legacied into Stanford. Malcolm appeared as the ideal husband to execute her plan. However, Judith also heard the chides of her mother along with the muted success of her father. She ends up as cynical about marriage and mothering and the book concludes with her living as before by default.
No, I wouldn't recommend TBSUW; but then again none of the R-rated French movies I'm watching appeal to me lately either. Rather than getting charged up from film or novels, I go to work happiest when I've seen a doe and her fawn in the yard followed by the rampant rabbits ... when I find two pair of jeans and two tees on sale for $42, total ... when I make three batches of kale chips ... when I read how my son and his fiancee didn't want to head back home after their visit. Yes, I am as restless as Judith; queasy at work, worried about my health, wanting to do something out of my normal boundaries. But I promised myself that over the summer I will live fully in the moment, the moment being my definition of pleasurable comfort.
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