It was truly fascinating to read this, perhaps Thompson's most renowned pulp sensation, right after having perused his final, semi-sentimental potboiler, South of Heaven.

Interestingly, there's even a character in this one who arrives in town after working on the pipeline, perhaps the same one described in that much later novel!

In my review of that book, I noted how, towards the end of his life, after achieving some success in film and TV and garnering important admirers of his pulp works in the movie world, I felt he attempted to blend the gritty pulp style with the greater literary concerns of his first couple of unsuccessful "Okies in the dust bowl" serious Steinbeckian novels.

There, too, I wondered about the hostility Thompson must have felt towards the publishers and readers who, in order for him to survive, kind of compelled him to pen this dreary stuff. He must have both loved it (considering how proficient he was at writing it) and, simultaneously, loathed it, given that it wasn't truly what he desired to write about or how he wanted to depict the people from his region. I imagine he didn't want to portray them as a bunch of greedy psychopaths, degenerates, alcoholics, and murderers.

I believe this novel provides an answer to that question. What if the protagonist is the author, driven to dumb himself down for an unworthy public, a self-repression that, in turn, forces him to brutally murder even those closest to him? It makes perfect sense to me. The additional brutality and extreme cynicism in Thompson's pulp might well be his own way of working through his frustrations with writing. In turn, of course, this intense frustration and cynicism gave rise to the very best pulp. It's simply devastating.

Lou Ford is a deputy sheriff in a small West Texas City approximately the size of Midland. It is 1952, and he has a certain fondness for his work. However, for reasons that are better left to the readers of this violent short novel, he goes to great lengths to conceal the fact that he is far more intelligent than the majority of the people he comes across. Suffice it to say that he harbors a sickness that he has been well aware of since childhood.

THE KILLER INSIDE ME is a work that is violent, sexual, and violently sexual. Despite all of this, it is one of Thompson's finest creations. Do not anticipate dry wit or cunning plotting. Instead, expect a wild roller-coaster ride through a sick mind that is all too eager to share his actions with us. It is recommended if the theme does not repulse you.

This novel delves deep into the psyche of a disturbed individual, painting a vivid and disturbing picture of his inner turmoil and the actions that result from it. Thompson's writing style is intense and engaging, pulling the reader in and not letting go until the very end. While the subject matter may be uncomfortable for some, for those who are willing to explore the darker side of human nature, THE KILLER INSIDE ME is a must-read.

Jim Thompson gets straight to the point. No beating around the bush or flowery language. Just the right and necessary descriptions.

"The Killer Inside Me" is a noir novel, extremely dark, just like the mind of its protagonist: a psychotic, cynical, and disturbed, yet intelligent and lying individual. As if it were about Patrick Bateman (remember, the charming protagonist of "American Psycho"), it will coldly and detailedly tell us how his impulses force him to eliminate those who get in his way at the wrong time and/or place. But of course, Lou Ford is not only the killer; he is also the policeman. And it turns out that he is also a nice guy; an exemplary neighbor.

With these simple ingredients, a rural-set police plot is intertwined, a modern southern western, dirty and macabre, which can be read in a short time and will not disappoint the lovers of twisted minds.

3.5

I find Jim Thompson's perspective truly extraordinary. It is mean-spirited, diabolical, and subversive, yet it is bursting with a kind of honesty that is chilling in its simplicity.

Lou Ford, a deputy sheriff by day and a sociopath by night, is a fascinating character. Thompson is not the first author to put the reader in the mind of a demented killer, as Dorothy B. Hughes preceded him with "In a Lonely Place." However, Thompson manages to do something special here.

Ford is by far the most logical character in the book. His reasoning is so shrewd and sound that you can't help but agree that murder might seem like the optimum solution for his problems. He doesn't view himself as a bad guy and would prefer not to engage in violent murder and kinky sex, but the world leaves him with few other options. Thompson makes you understand and even, to some extent, agree with Ford.

The genius of Thompson lies in his ability to present a melodramatic, fun house version of reality that, the deeper you get into the book, starts to make sense. You might initially smirk at his worldview, thinking it's not that skewed, but then you realize with terror that it could be real.

Ford's idea of entertainment is to talk in cliches and platitudes, convincing everyone he is an idiot. He learned this from prayer meetings, and his argument makes sense. People who indulge him do so out of condescension, not realizing that he is actually patronizing them with old-fashioned decency.

The plot is simple: Ford kills people and outwits the law. He never kills without a reason and genuinely wants to do right by his friends. The best part of the book comes when he has to choose between saving his friend's neck or his own.

It is fascinating when Ford reveals his true self in front of people. He abuses the latent hypocrisy that the world tacitly encourages. There is an excellent interrogation scene where he manages to slither out of a difficult situation by chiding the cop for suggesting that a woman of good grooming could have lurid thoughts, even though the whole town knows he was having sex with her.

Stephen King calls it a great American novel because it helps us understand leaders like Nixon or madmen like Lee Harvey Oswald. My reason for calling it a great novel is different. Ford sees through the world's hypocrisies and claims he can do better. He becomes the greatest hypocrite his town has ever seen and is deemed crazy for being so good at it.

Thompson had a difficult life. He was one of the best crime writers of his generation but never sold well in the USA. He became a great scriptwriter, writing for "The Killing" and "Paths of Glory," but Stanley Kubrick screwed him out of credit and downplayed his contribution. Despite this, those two movies helped make Kubrick one of the best directors in the world, while Thompson was forgotten.

This book starts as a noir and ends up taking an interesting look at mental illness. Thompson was called the Dimestore Dostoevsky for a reason. Among noir authors, he was the most profoundly pessimistic and the most charmingly cynical. It's a violent, misogynistic, and very dark book, but it's definitely worth reading. Rating - 5/5.

Quotes: "I found out long ago that the place where the law is apt to be abused most is right around a courthouse."

Ravings of a mad man or a visionary? You decide. "How can a man ever really know anything? We’re living in a funny world, kid, a peculiar civilization. The police are playing crooks in it, and the crooks are doing police duty. The politicians are preachers, and the preachers are politicians. The tax collectors collect for themselves. The Bad People want us to have more dough, and the Good People are fighting to keep it from us. It’s not good for us, know what I mean? If we all had all we wanted to eat, we’d crap too much. We’d have inflation in the toilet paper industry. That’s the way I understand it. That’s about the size of some of the arguments I’ve heard....it’s a screwed up, bitched up world, and I’m afraid it’s going to stay that way. And I’ll tell you why. Because no one, almost no one, sees anything wrong with it."

P.S. Why do I always relate with the erudite losers and the sarcastic psychos? : )

07/2019

From 1952.

I had read this once before, and to be honest, I didn't have a favorable impression of it at that time. Now, after a deeper exploration, I've come to realize that a significant portion of his plots seem to descend into a non-literal hell. It's as if the consciousness is being seized by extreme insanity.

I'm still in a state of uncertainty regarding how I truly feel about this as a means to conclude a book. This particular work definitely has the precedent of insanity from his past. It makes me wonder if this is a recurring theme in his writing or just a unique aspect of this one book.

Perhaps with more analysis and understanding, I'll be able to form a more definitive opinion about it. For now, I'm left with a sense of confusion and curiosity as to why the author chose to end the story in such a way.

1952! This classic crime novel by Jim Thompson was penned in 1952! I continuously had to remind myself of that date as it felt contemporary and novel. It is a brutally harsh noir book.

It gives the impression of a gritty and dark movie that could have been produced in the 1970s, complete with the cinematic graininess of that era. It's a book that astonished me, and I simply didn't anticipate such from a book written in 1952. The story is narrated in the first person, meaning the reader inhabits the mind of a killer and gets up close and personal with his thoughts. Rarely does any book feel so intimate with a killer. It's disturbing and shocking... and truly, really good.

Our narrator, Lou Ford, is a sheriff’s deputy in the small town of Central City in west Texas. On the surface, he's just a Texas boy. He's good-natured and has friends and family he cares about. But the title says it all. Lou has a killer residing within him. The fascinating aspect is that Lou seems to regard the killer as a person distinct from himself. The killer cannot be controlled by him and often slays the people that Lou loves. In fact, somehow Mr Thompson enables the reader to believe that Lou still truly loves some of his victims despite his brutality towards them.

One of the finest parts of this character portrayal of a killer was that we witnessed Lou's glee when he taunts the others in the story... he challenges them to figure it out. He makes fun of them. He toys with them. And he is absolutely ecstatic about it. As a reader, it was petrifying and shocking, yet also comical and absurd.

Recently I binge-watched the television show "The Americans" and found it a disconcerting and strange experience where I was often rooting for the Russian spies. (As an American veteran of the Cold War, this was incredibly odd for me.) Reading this book was a similar experience. There were moments when I really liked Lou and wanted him to somehow get away with it. To cease killing. To marry his girl. To move on with a better life. But then my mind would shout at me, "Kelly, stop it! He is insane!"

********

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In many of the books that I have read, it often seems that the writer loses all sense of control whenever he reaches a crucial or exciting moment.

He will then begin to omit punctuation marks, run words together haphazardly, and start babbling about stars flashing and sinking into a deep, dreamless sea.

As a result, it becomes extremely difficult to determine whether the hero is engaged in an amorous encounter with his girl or laying the cornerstone of a building.

I suspect that this kind of muddled and incoherent writing is supposed to pass for profound and meaningful stuff.

I notice that a lot of book reviewers seem to lap it up without question.

However, in my opinion, the writer is simply being incredibly lazy and not bothering to do his job properly.

Unlike such writers, I am not lazy, regardless of what other qualities I may possess.

I will tell you everything in a clear and straightforward manner.

“In lots of books I read, the writer seems to go haywire every time he reaches a high point. He’ll start leaving out punctuation and running his words together and babble about stars flashing and sinking into a deep dreamless sea. And you can’t figure out whether the hero’s laying his girl or a cornerstone. I guess that kind of crap is supposed to be pretty deep stuff—a lot of the book reviewers eat it up, I notice. But the way I see it is, the writer is just too goddam lazy to do his job. And I’m not lazy, whatever else I am. I’ll tell you everything.”

RTC

3.5/5 Stars.

Deputy Sheriff Lou Ford is a highly regarded sheriff's deputy in a small Texas town. However, Lou harbors a sinister secret within him. He has a perverse inclination towards killing people.

Nevertheless, Lou's days might be numbered as his past misdeeds start to haunt him and his friendly exterior begins to crumble.

"The Killer Inside Me" presents a first-person narrative of a morally corrupt sociopath. Although this book, written in the 1950s, has lost some of its initial shock value over the years, it still manages to be both deeply disturbing and captivating.

I must confess that at times, I was perplexed by certain plot twists and found it challenging to keep track of the characters due to their lack of depth and development. However, in all honesty, the plot wasn't the main focus for me, nor was I particularly interested in the other characters. Therefore, this didn't overly concern me.

Lou's internal monologue is truly fascinating and entertaining in a warped and darkly comical manner. It's a strange and engaging journey to spend 220 pages inside his mind.

In the 90s, there were several remarkable works that delved deep into the psyche of a truly disturbed individual.

Take, for example, "The Getaway" by Jim Thompson. This novel takes readers on a wild ride as they are immersed in the thoughts and actions of a man with a seriously warped mindset.

Another notable work is "Pop. 1280" by the same author. Here, we once again find ourselves inside the mind of a very sick man. The repetition of "very. sick. man." emphasizes the extent of his psychological turmoil.

Finally, "After Dark, My Sweet" also offers a chilling exploration of a deeply troubled character.

These books from the 90s provide a fascinating and often disturbing look into the inner workings of a mind that is far from normal.
The Getaway
Pop. 1280
After Dark, My Sweet
.

Jim Thompson’s The Killer Inside Me is truly terrifying. In the mind of a sociopath murderer, we can all see some aspects of ourselves. I know it’s not just me!

The novel is narrated from the perspective of Lou Ford, a seemingly harmless and trustworthy small town Texas deputy. However, he is well aware of his own demons and knows that he is far from being a pillar of the community. Ford’s mind and emotions fluctuate between being cold and calculating, viciously angry, and desperate and full of need. But he manages to keep them under control because he understands that maintaining a spotless image is crucial for staying above suspicion. As the story progresses, Ford’s dark past gradually seeps into the present, and his rational plans collide with factors beyond his control.

The terror in this novel lies in Thompson’s brilliant portrayal of Lou Ford. The deputy’s complexity is not particularly sympathetic, yet it is recognizable. He expresses a vague sense of sorrow for his deeds and develops a painful and superficial understanding of their origins, but he is committed to ensuring that his actions appear innocent. His blind rage is tempered by an icy premeditation; having been a lawman for a long time, Ford knows how to stage a murder. And Ford’s rationalizations are common enough for the reader to accept as part of the hidden recesses of human nature. The killer inside Lou Ford is within shouting distance of the killer inside the reader.

Thompson’s book is not without flaws. Some of the psychology may seem a bit heavy-handed, but considering it was written in 1952, our understanding of killers at that time was limited. The plot also wraps up a little too neatly, almost like a pulp novel. Nevertheless, I liked this book so much that as soon as I finished it, I immediately went to the library website to look for more of Thompson’s works. The Killer Inside Me is a dark noir classic of the highest quality.

The Killer Inside Me is a novel that truly needs no introduction. It is, and will always remain, a classic of American noir fiction. It has been adapted into two movies, in 1976 and 2010 respectively. Chances are high that if you haven't read the novel, you've at least watched the film. Or, if you're really胆小的 (fainthearted), you've experienced neither, as both the book and the movie are dark, disturbing, and well beyond the point of being unsettling. It's also one of those books that has been extensively studied from all angles, inside and out, and has even been the subject of numerous dissertations.

This book is extremely challenging to read due to the sadistic, misogynistic violence it contains. Yes, I'm aware that this is something I generally try to avoid, but I had to read this book as it's a classic. However, what really draws me is trying to untangle what's in Ford's mind. The novel is Lou's confession, if you will. It's his way of attempting to make us understand the logic behind his actions, laying out his plans in advance for our perusal, and revealing just how easily he can deceive people - until he can no longer do so. In cliché terms, he is the ultimate wolf in sheep's clothing.

There is so much more to this novel than just the violence. But going through everything I discovered in this book would take an eternity. As I mentioned earlier, this novel has been closely examined, studied, and written about both academically and otherwise. So, there are numerous places where one can dig deeper to learn more about it. It's among the books that made me feel like taking a shower after reading it, yet it's so incredibly good that I just couldn't stop. And that, actually, scares me a bit.

Insanely good, but to be completely honest, I liked his Pop. 1280 even more.

much more here: http://www.crimesegments.com/2016/12/...

So far, I find myself hating Jim Thompson a great deal more than I initially remembered. I'm not even sure if I'll be able to endure reading this entire book. It's quite a strange follow-up right after Proust.

Well, it seems that Jim Thompson writes in a style that resembles that of a demented fourth-grader who has been brought up in a rather rough whorehouse. This isn't exactly my preferred style of writing. However, that doesn't mean I wasn't drawn into the story. The only other book I recall reading about West Texas is the Lyndon Johnson biography, which made this one somewhat interesting as I could picture the cliched, cigar-chomping, rampaging psychopathic sheriff being portrayed by LBJ.

I suppose I understand why some people enjoy Thompson's work. I bet all the graphic violence and sex was quite thrilling back in the fifties, before such content became commonplace on primetime television every night. It's not really to my taste, but I was reluctantly compelled to keep reading. It may not be Proustian, but is that necessarily a bad thing?

If I could award this book an additional half star, I would do so for its ability to hold my attention despite my initial snobbish attitude. However, Thompson's lazy soap-opera-style expository interior monologues, such as "that there bloody boob reminded me of the sunny day back in July of 1945 when my armadillo Shep was tragically kilt by the insensitive social worker named Barbara Johnson who fractured my psyche forever," kind of make me want to vomit.