A Psychotic Killer Tells His Story

Jim Thompson's short 1952 novel, "The Killer inside of Me," offers a deeply disturbing portrayal from within the mind of a psychopathic killer, Lou Ford. At 29, Lou narrates his story in the first person. He is a deputy sheriff in the west Texas town of Central City in the 1950s. Lou's mother died when he was young, and he was raised by his physician father and a housekeeper. After his mother's death, when Lou was four, his father adopted a six-year-old orphan, Mike. The story begins six years after Mike's covered-up murder.

The novel starts as Lou investigates, abuses, and falls in love with Joyce, a prostitute. He becomes embroiled in a convoluted blackmail and double-cross. Lou and Joyce are to receive $10,000 from a wealthy construction magnate, Conway, whose profligate son has fallen in love with Joyce and plans to elope with her. Lou has a motive for killing young Conway as his father had arranged for Mike's murder years before. Lou kills Conway and Joyce and attempts to cover his tracks. The novel describes his efforts, further killings, and his growing mental deterioration. It focuses more on Lou's character than on the taut suspense from the murder investigation.
Thompson's novel delves into Lou's tormented, vicious, yet strangely sympathetic character. The residents of Central City see him as "that dull good-natured guy who couldn't do anything bad if he tried." Lou speaks slowly, smiles often, uses many clichés, and appears well-liked. He has a childhood sweetheart, Amy, whom he apparently plans to marry. However, Lou's outward demeanor masks a high intelligence and murderous impulses. He does have a compassionate side, as he befriends a young man, Johnny Pappas, who has a propensity for trouble. But this sympathy doesn't stop Lou from acts of great brutality.
The graphic detail and forethought of Lou's crimes belie his exterior image. His character is developed through reflections on his boyhood. The housekeeper sexually abused him, and he developed a lifelong anger towards women, which he calls "the sickness." His adopted brother Mike served a term in the reformatory after taking the blame for the sexual abuse of a young girl that Lou had committed. Thompson skillfully and convincingly develops Lou's psychopathic character from his early sexual experiences.
Lou's character is also developed through his biting, pithy observations of people and places. For example, when observing mismatched couples, he says, "I've loafed around the streets sometimes, leaned against a store front with my hat pushed back and one boot hooked back around the other -- hell, you've probably seen me if you've ever been out this way -- I've stood like that, looking nice and friendly and stupid, like I wouldn't p.. if my pants were on fire. And all of the time I'm laughing myself sick inside. Just watching the people."
Lou is convinced, with good reason, that his guilt is strongly suspected from the start. His self-understanding increases even as his mind deteriorates. The final sections of the book show a highly demented person, filled with illusions, feelings of guilt, and claustrophobia.
"The Killer Inside Me" is an internalized work that captures a psychotic soul. It served as the basis for films in 1976 and 2010. The author, Jim Thompson (1906-1977), was a prolific writer of noir novels and screenplays. This book is his masterpiece. It is available in paperback or in the Library of America's compilation of five noir novels from the 1950s. This is an excellent novel, regardless of genre.

Reading Jim Thompson is like pulling a shiny dark cancer out of an animal.

One discovers that something which is (and definitely should be) regarded as appalling can also be complex, beautiful, and eerily familiar.

His works have a unique allure that draws readers in and makes them question their own perceptions.

The characters and situations he presents are often morally ambiguous, blurring the lines between right and wrong.

It's this ability to create such a captivating and thought-provoking world that makes Thompson's writing so remarkable.

No wonder Stanley Kubrick, a master filmmaker known for his exploration of complex themes and dark人性, loved Thompson's work so much.

Kubrick was able to see the hidden depths and beauty within Thompson's stories, and perhaps draw inspiration from them for his own films.

Reading Thompson is an experience that challenges and intrigues, leaving a lasting impression on the reader.

This was my original thought, with which I was never satisfied.

Until I saw this, my gut feeling was that it would be impossible to bring Jim Thompson to the screen. However, I stand corrected. It's a fabulous movie that precisely captures the spirit of Thompson's writing. I first suggested seeing this to a male who refused, claiming that 'horrible things happened to women'. And indeed they do, but I have no idea why this would be misinterpreted as being about'male hate' or'misogeny'. Like most people, I guess, my reaction is that while at an intellectual level, extreme violence against men is as dreadful as against women, at an emotional level, that simply isn't the case. However, I don't think this movie is any more visually violent than, say, Pan's Labyrinth and the Red Riding Trilogy. The violence in both is sickening. I recall violence against men in both of these as well. I don't think violence like this should ever be shown as 'entertainment'. It diminishes the nature of violence, desensitizes us, and makes it seem normal, even as we complain about it.

This brings to mind a discussion I started in my review of Stendhal's Memoirs of an Egotist. http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...

We were talking about the fact that a picture can give an impression that, if read instead, would be found cheap and coarse. At the time, I suggested that the reverse would surely sometimes be true, that a nasty picture could be ennobled by a description in words. This kept coming back to me while watching the movie. One of the things Thompson does is describe violence in the most gripping, gut-wrenching way, making one feel there and part of it. I say this as someone who generally finds descriptions of violence, both visual and by word, tedious. His writing of this kind of thing is staggeringly good. And although I haven't read this book yet, I've read enough Jim Thompson to be sure that the scenes where Winterbottom attempts to force us to watch women (as it happens) being punched and kicked to death would have been utterly readable in a way they were not - and indeed should not have been - watchable. However real Thompson's descriptions are, they still haven't been robbed of the reader's imagination in the way film steals. I wish more film directors understood that suggestion is so much more powerful than blatancy. Strangely, I think the way to transfer to the screen what I expect to have been the explicit nature of Thompson's description of these scenes would have been to draw back from the explicit. Maybe this is because in the end, in a movie, you are watching rather than taking part in the way you are when reading.

Jim Thompson, out of favor for decades, has suddenly become the flavor of the month. His books are back in mainstream print, and now this movie. All I can say is that he should never have been out of fashion. He is a splendid writer, and I don't want to put a genre on him any more than I would on Simenon's non-Maigret books. They are part of a movement of mid-to-late-twentieth-century studies of sociopaths, which, in my opinion, are a very important part of the literature of that period. So get trendy and read him... and yes, by all means, see the movie too.

End of initial thoughts. Having taken these off this review, the discussion http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/... with Paul prompts me to repost.

And express a reconsideration. In retrospect, I consider the way in which the violence was portrayed here to be absolutely legitimate. Maybe there are other ways of doing it that would have worked. I think of the film The Boys, in which there is almost no explicit violence, and yet the threat looms far larger than the execution. But still, in order to get inside the head of the killer, I can see that the approach taken by the director maybe worked in a way that was utterly horrific but still meaningful. I do not think that of either Pan's Labyrinth or the Red Riding Trilogy, where the violence served no purpose whatsoever.

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I feel like I've failed this book, so I'm starting again...

It was watching the movie of this book that gave me one of those moments of understanding.

There are those who say what they believe, who say what they mean. Then there are those who believe what they say, who mean what they say. This second group is convinced that their very act of saying something makes it true. 'I've said it, therefore I mean it, therefore it is true.'

The - I really don't know what to call him, villain??? - kicks and punches a woman to death. He explains as he is doing it that he has to do it, it cannot be helped, and, of course, he has said it, therefore in his view of the world, it is true. In a deeply moving moment as the woman is lying on the floor, dying, a gentle pool of her urine growing on the floor, she reaches for her handbag. Why? Is there something with which to belatedly defend herself in there? Her hand doesn't make it. She dies first. Later we find that she was reaching to find a letter she had for this man, her love. I suspect some critics thought we were supposed to see this woman as weak, not putting up any resistance as she was so brutally assaulted, but they don't get it. She loved the man who was kicking her to death. Not at any point did that love waver. It was strength, not weakness that we witnessed in this scene. She loved this man. She wanted to deliver her letter.

The Killer Inside Me is an exemplary illustration of Noir in its most unadulterated state. It is deeply disturbing, dark, gritty, and chilling.

The protagonist, Lou Ford, appears to be an all-round nice guy on the surface. However, beneath that façade lies a depraved sociopath. Ford attributes this to boredom, stating, "If there's anything worse than a bore, it's a corny bore."

The book is written in the first person, which intensifies the chilling and disturbing nature of the sadomasochistic relationships, child abuse, and insanity depicted within its pages.

This book is not for the faint of heart. It is violent and disturbing, even more so than one might anticipate from a book written in the early 1950s. Lou Ford's inner demons can make you feel queasy at times, reminding me of the same sensation I experienced while reading Lolita. Both are great novels that have the power to turn your stomach.

Just the title held my interest. And then I started reading. Well, I didn't buy his "sickness" like everyone said.

At 40% into the story, it seemed to me that it was all in his mind and yet everything was okay. There was nothing crazy. Yeah, he totally killed Elmer and Joyce (maybe not). Still, he was motivated by revenge and we don't know what he did or who she is.

And then the psychopath's speech begins. Seriously, what he did with Pappas and Amy was heartbroken and yet he felt absolutely nothing. Gosh, why she stayed with him was beyond me. But we know sooner or later he would do it again. Or he would kill someone else.

Lou knows that he won't live long. He just has to have his grand finale.

I have some doubts about the medicine and if he indeed killed his housekeeper or someone else. The story keeps me on the edge of my seat, wondering what will happen next. Will he be caught? Will he continue his rampage? Only time will tell.

I feel rather silly expressing this particular opinion regarding a highly renowned and deeply revered classic within the noir genre.

This genre, as we all know, is characterized by a rather disturbing combination of sex, violence, and amorality all intertwined.

However, this book in question was simply too much for me to handle.

It was just way too ugly in its portrayal and exploration of these themes.

The level of explicitness and the lack of any redeeming qualities made it a difficult read for me.

I understand the allure and significance of the noir genre, but this particular work seemed to take it to an extreme that I couldn't quite stomach.

Perhaps others may find value and enjoyment in it, but for me, it was a bit of a disappointment.

Nonetheless, I still respect the genre and its place in literary history.

This is a rather tricky book to rate and review.

I feel the need to issue at least a minor warning as I believe some readers will find the book somewhat disturbing to a certain extent. That being said, it is regarded as a classic of its kind, and I can understand why. The writing can indeed be described as masterful.

This novel was penned in 1952. Apart from a few outdated terms, the story holds up remarkably well and in no way feels dated. Yes, we have older cars, limited phone availability, and a '50s society, but it doesn't "jump out" or intrude into the storytelling or reading experience in any way.

As a side note, there is a 2010 movie adaptation of this book. I have never seen it, so I am unable to comment on it. I do know that the movie was widely criticized for violence against women. As I mentioned, I haven't seen the movie, but if it remains true to the book, there is no way to avoid that aspect.

Lou Ford is somewhat of a psychopathic sadist. The book is told from Lou's perspective, and the most terrifying thing about it is Lou's voice. He seems so normal, and everyone likes him. Lou, on the other hand, has been aware all along of the monster imprisoned within him. He has struggled to keep it in check. He has been cautious for years to keep it chained. The book will take us on a guided tour of Lou's descent into madness. We get a front-row seat to his mind. He moves among his friends and neighbors, and no one knows who or what he truly is.

None of the above is a spoiler, but I cannot say any more without spoiling it. I don't wish to do that. However, I do want you to know that you will encounter some graphic violence (although still not as graphic as some more modern books, but it gets the job done). It is emotionally straining and draining, but it is extremely well-written.

I can recommend it with certain reservations.

What do you think about one of the most significant paperback original novels of all time? It's a novel that Stephen King lauded as a masterpiece worthy of sharing shelf space with Moby Dick and Huckleberry Finn. I might not go to the same extreme as King (since I find Moby Dick rather unreadable), but it's indeed both an important and an incredibly well-written book that far exceeds its humble beginnings. Killer didn't even have the prestige to be initially published as a Fawcett Gold Medal book; instead, it was released by Martin Goodman's Lion Books.

Deputy Lou Ford is just a nice, somewhat square, good-old-boy. He'd rather communicate with troubled kids using truly awful clichés than arrest them. Oh... and he's also a complete psychopath. He manages to fit into the small world of Central City, Texas, where his father was the town doctor and he has spent a lifetime conforming. That is until a beautiful prostitute arrives in town and sets Ford on a path that unleashes the killer within him, which he claims to have kept in check for decades. And I say "claims" because Ford is definitely an unreliable narrator. There's evidence here suggesting that Ford isn't nearly as intelligent as he believes himself to be, and that his anti-social tendencies are much closer to the surface than he reveals in his narrative. And that's one of the brilliant aspects of Thompson's story. Not only does this book foreshadow the abundance of psycho/serial killer literature that would emerge in the following years (such as Tom Ripley, Hannibal Lecter, Dexter, etc.), but Thompson's use of the first-person narrative allows us to peek into the killer's mind... although we can't always be certain that we're seeing everything.

It had been a long time since I last read this book. And it remains a chilling read. Great things can come in small packages... like inexpensive paperback novels.

Welllllllllllllllllll, poop.

I have to say that I really love the premise of this story. We are given a first-person perspective of a Deputy Sheriff who appears to be so wholesome on the outside. However, as we delve deeper, we discover that there is a killer lurking within him. Woo!

Quite honestly, he doesn't seem all that different from some of the guys I've known in the past. They are all about the frills, show, and manipulation until things don't go their way. And then it's KILL KILL KILL.

As a Deputy Sheriff, I expected him to be a bit more careful and not so sloppy. I was actually quite surprised at the messiness of it all. But then again, I have to remember that this was written in the 50s, and I need to take that time period into consideration.

The thing is, I didn't really feel creeped out by Lou. The synopsis alone states that he's not the brightest or most interesting man in town. But he does have a certain streak within him that's kind of fun to see come out once in a while.

I did enjoy the writing style, but overall, I found Lou to be pretty freakin' boring. Or maybe it's because I've read way too many truly creepy books that I'm now numb to the greatness that I've heard this one to be. It was likely dark and a bit controversial for the time it was written, but for today's chilling factor, it's a bit lukewarm.

First of all, a stern warning: if by chance you come across the edition I have that features an introductory essay by Stephen King, make sure you read it after you've completed the book. Goddamn it, either the whole concept of *spoiler* completely escapes this man, or he just loves being a jerk about such things. After the Twitter controversy in 2014 where he spoiled a major death for fans of HBO's Game of Thrones series, I'm quite certain it's the latter.

It's not that he doesn't understand - he simply doesn't care!!!

And he does the same thing here, spoiling a crucial scene from Thompson's classic noir novel. Thanks a lot, Uncle Stevie!!! I don't care that the book was published in 1952 - it's not the same as revealing that the Titanic hits an iceberg and sinks or that Janet Leigh gets stabbed in the shower in Psycho! And it's especially not the same as revealing that Romeo and Juliet die in Act 5. Now you're just being an asshole, asshole!

Anyway, setting aside all the anger and annoyance, Uncle Stevie provides a great introduction (heh). This essay is particularly inspiring as it deals with Jim Thompson, his influence on dark literature, and the lasting legacy of his psychopathic, unassuming small town Deputy Sheriff, Lou Ford.

Told in the first-person, The Killer Inside Me gets as close as you'd ever want to the inner thoughts and uncontrollable urges of a psycho killer. The most spine-chilling part? On the outside, Lou Ford is a regular, down-home good ol' boy, with charm and even a bit of wit. But beneath his carefully constructed facade lies a sharp mind and inexplicable violent compulsions. First published in 1952, I can only imagine the impact this book had on its original readers. Even for this jaded 21st-century reader, The Killer Inside Me still holds within its unrelenting prose the power to shock and unnerve.

And despite Ford's obvious dark side - his \\"sickness\\" - you still find yourself rooting for the guy (that is, when you're not yelling at the characters to run for their lives as far away from the crazy man as possible). It made me wonder who I'd take my chances with in a locked room - Lou Ford or Annie Wilkes? ::shudder:: There's a Sophie's Choice I'm glad I never have to make.

Without Jim Thompson - and especially without Lou Ford - I firmly believe 'country noir' would not be what it is today. Donald Ray Pollock, Frank Bill, Daniel Woodrell, Ron Rash all owe a debt to Thompson. And as readers, so do we.

Harsh and unflinching, this is truly a brutal and chilling book. It's not just the violence and murders that make it so, but rather the cheerful daily microaggressions that Lou Ford inflicts upon the town folk. As you delve into his warped mind, you witness the insidious nature of his actions.

I initially thought this would be a simple pulpy noir, but it turns out to be much deeper and darker. The exploration of the sociopathic killer's psyche is masterfully done and perhaps ahead of its time.

It's a well-written piece that likely influenced a great deal of popular fiction, film, and TV in the past 50 years. The debt owed to this book is significant, as it offers a unique and disturbing perspective on the human condition.

Overall, it's a captivating read that will leave you with a sense of unease long after you've turned the last page.

A very dark book, which was written in 1952 and was decades ahead of its time. The protagonist, Lou Ford, a local cop, seems to be a bland and easy-going person who can get along with everyone. However, in reality, he is a screaming sociopath. The novel is written in a first-person narrative, which vividly描绘s a solid picture of a West Texan town that is dominated by oil and its primary profiteer. Despite this, Thompson fails to explain Lou's sickness. Maybe that was the entire point of the story, but it was lost on me. I found myself constantly wondering about the root cause of Lou's sociopathy. Was it something in his past? Or was it an inherent part of his nature? Without a clear explanation, it was difficult for me to fully understand and empathize with the character.