Truman Capote is a masterful storyteller in the book In Cold Blood. It is a true crime story of the brutal murder of four Clutter family members in Holcomb, Kansas. I listened to it on audiobook and Scott Brick is a phenomenal narrator.

The format of the story structure keeps the tension high because it flips back and forth from a timeframe standpoint. This enables the reader to get to know the killers as young children and adolescents.

Highly recommend!

Chilling
An outstanding and powerful work of literature, even more impressive because it conveyed true crimes, a profound investigative insight, the vivid sense of time and place, and the atmosphere that cloaked the evil events carried out on November 15 in 1959, in Holcomb, Kansas. Truman Capote is an artist that painted every detail of the story with such a detailed flow that causes us to stop and appreciate the surroundings rather than wishing the story was being pushed at a faster pace.

Looking at America in the 50s from the perspective of a foreigner we often think more of a Holywood version of an innocent age, affluent, white picket fences, apple pie, and rock and roll pervading the airwaves. If anyone asked me when and where I'd liked to have lived it would have been the US in the 1950s. In Cold Blood smashes that image with the reality that cruelty can take away life, a community’s character and the idyllic vision I'd imagined above.

The murders of four of the Clutter family by Dick Hickock and Perry Smith for $40, stunned not only the population of Holcomb but ultimately a world-wide audience. My vision, I so wanted to believe of the US, couldn't have been better envisioned than by Holcomb in the 1950s, where families rarely locked their doors and the safety of the neighbourhood was never doubted. Hickock and Smith not only brutally destroyed the lives of four innocent people but destroyed the fundamental promise of safety in our own homes.

The story explores the background of the murderers, what drove them, how they considered what they had done, the investigation into the crimes, and the community that became fearful and suspicious that for a long time they did not know who was responsible. To achieve this nonfiction novel with such beautiful prose is a seminal point in literature where it is arguable that Capote created a new genre.

I have for a long time been fascinated by the relationship between Truman Capote and Harper Lee and how they helped each other research and draft their renowned classics. It is interesting that Harper Lee had been inspired during the ‘In Cold Blood’ collaboration with Capote to research and use the case of Robert Burns who shot dead the serial killer, Reverend Willie Maxwell, to write her own true-crime novel - which never materialised. Another relationship Capote shattered during his years of self-destruction.

I do believe this is a must-read novel and is surely a classic and a powerful combination of true-crime with such beautiful writing talent. I have my wonderful friend Julie Grippo who encouraged me to read this book and read along with me when I had the opportunity to do so. Thank you so much, Julie, and please see her brilliant review at https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

(You can watch my video critique of the book here: https://youtu.be/V1EfxusX8-w )

Over the six years Capote spent writing the book, he supposedly took eight-thousand pages of notes. Presumably, these were compiled from the interviews he undertook with the police, townsfolk and the criminals themselves. The notes also would have included the deeply personal papers he had access to. Nancy Clutter, the sixteen-year-old girl who Richard and Perry murdered, kept a diary which Capote was allowed to read, so paired with the numerous witness reports he gathered and the extensive amount of time he spent in the town of Holcomb, he had a reasonably good idea of what the last hours of the Clutter family were really like. What’s more, on top of this acute attention to detail, he often managed to go further still, such that he even described a photograph of Richard and Perry that was taken by a complete stranger during their brief stint in Mexico. To all appearances, Capote had an unbelievable dedication to identifying every atom that was in play during both the build-up to the murders and in their fallout. Astonishingly, he was so sure of himself in this regard that he wasn’t beyond making the erroneous claim that In Cold Blood was the first book of its type and that no better example of the genre would ever be written. The first claim was transparently false, but of the second, he might actually have been able to rest assured if only for one troubling fact.

Capote lied.

In 2013, The Wall Street Journal reported that there are elements of In Cold Blood that seem to have been exaggerated and others that were clearly just made up.

Futher to this, Throughout the story, one of the killers, Perry, is often portrayed as the more conscientious criminal. It’s Richard who’s drawn as the bloodthirsty one. But at the end of the tale when their brutal acts are finally shown in all their gruesome glory, the twist is that it was Perry who slit poor Herbert Clutters throat and then shot him in the back of the head. It was Perry who claimed to have killed everybody in the house. And while the text leaves some doubt for this, there’s little cause to doubt that on the night itself it was Perry’s manic behaviour that drove all of the murders to happen. Yet in every other manner, Capote constructed the story and revelations in such a way that for all the evils Perry committed, in some way, there was something in him that was worthy of forgiveness.

Of his Perry’s words, it might have been the case that Capote saw the nascent form of a guilty conscience and felt compelled to have the man say in fiction what he never could in reality. Even so, it isn’t crazy to imagine that Perry actually did express those words of regret, if not at the time of execution, then maybe in the months prior. Given the other tweaks Capote made, he could have simply moved them to where all of the anger, irony and sorrow they contained could be squeezed for every last drip. Of course, it’s just as possible he merely contrived the sentiment to create a more powerful ending. Regardless, for all the questions of journalistic integrity it’s clear there was a very particular worldview that was expressed through them and a literary benefit to be gained. Tom Wolfe wasn’t entirely wrong when he criticized the book for stringing the reader along with the promise of gory details. It was a cynical way to approach a detective story. But as a successor to books like Fyodor Dostoevski’s Crime and Punishment, in which a man murders a pawnbroker and struggles to understand why the ends don’t justify the means, and Albert Camus’ The Stranger, in which the murder that sets the plot in motion is depicted as just another arbitrary happening in a meaningless universe, In Cold Blood is a worthy successor that presents its own philosophical quagmire in which to get bogged down. The romanticized portrait of the Clutter family and the flattering way Capote portrayed the police investigation are combined with the monstrous acts of the convicts and the apparent regret of the man most responsible for them. As such, on the surface the book can be read as a reassurance that though paradise has been lost, there are still guardians in world and redemption for those who brought it to an end. But that’s only when looking at it through one eye. When you open the other you can see that this lesson only exists as part of a stereoscopic vision in which there is also a lamentation for the absolute despair that such beauty and horror can live side by side. Yes Capote lied, but when viewed in this manner, it’s fair to say that it appears to have been for the sake of constructing a better novel rather than just because of a favour he owed.

Today, In Cold Blood remains listed as the second-best-selling true crime novel right after Vincent Bugliosi’s, Helter Skelter, which presented the first-hand accounts of the Manson murders. Nevertheless, as far as household names go Charles Manson has long since eclipsed Vincent Bugliosi and the title of his book. Not so in the case of Richard Hickcock and Perry Smith. In the years since it’s publication, In Cold Blood and Truman Capote have mostly withstood the criticisms against their warped version of history and only grown in popular imagination. The artistic licence, if we’re to use a kinder term to describe what Capote did, was handled with such self-assuredness that the book itself has become larger than anything that might have happened in real life. It’s worth pointing out that the lies many people feel weaken Capote’s work aren’t something that most critics worry about when it comes to exploring true stories in other mediums. In point of fact, the Bennett Miller picture starring Philip Seymour Hoffman grants itself a huge amount of leeway when it comes to telling us how the book was made, but it’s hard to imagine it being condemned for its own embellishments. At the very least, it’s mostly accepted that the so-called true stories of film should be taken with a grain of salt and that when they’re at their best the creative liberties they employ allow us access to a far greater Truth than that of a mirror held to the side of the road. As a work of journalism, In Cold Blood is reprehensible. It was a mistake to claim that everything in its pages was one-hundred per cent accurate. An offence to the ideals of journalism, a stain on the industry that lauded it, and disrespectful to the surviving members of the Clutter family. Moreover, even though the success of the book benefited the world by shining a light on issues of mental illness and the death penalty, the ground on which it stands has become so shaky it’s forever damaged as a point of interest in any meaningful sociological conversation. Yet if you’re able to ignore the epigraph that states it’s a true account and instead concentrate on Capote’s insistence that it should first and foremost be considered a work of art in which he applies his style sheet for fiction to an event that began as something real, it’s a masterwork of novel writing craft — though be it one forever tied to a morally questionable origin.

(Don't forget to check out my full video critique: https://youtu.be/V1EfxusX8-w )

This story made a huge impact on my life. There were six of us kids and come summer my mother couldn't handle all of us so she farmed me out every year to the aunts. One aunt lived in Indio. My mother put me on a Greyhound bus and nine years old; all alone with my brown paper grocery bag as luggage. I was scared to death. A Seagull hit the expansive windshield with splat of blood and feathers. Unfazed the driver merely turned on the windshield wipers and made and even bigger mess.
I arrived in Indio a hundred plus degrees and my aunt Carol picked me up at the bus station. She said she was taking me and my cousin Danny to the movies. Oh, boy I loved the movies. We stopped at a store to pick up some candy and I bought my favorite Chicken-O-stick. I was nine my cousin was seven, she bought our tickets at The Aztec theater and ushered us through the door. She said she'd be back when the movie was over. It was nice to be out of the sweltering heat. We sat down ate our candy in great anticipation. The movie started and it was in black and white. It was In Cold Blood, not something a nine year old should be watching.
Ten years later my cousin Danny and my Aunt Carol would be arrested for killing my favorite uncle Don in a murder for hire. My aunt hired a hit man out of Orange County named Cornelius. They stiffed in a fake call of an emergency at the Metropolitan Water Distinct where my uncle worked. There was a clause in the life insurance policy that if he died at work it was double indemnity. My uncle showed up in the middle of the night and they shot him in the back of the head. Of course there is lots more to this true story.
And to this day I can not forget In Cold Blood, the movie.
Sorry for the rant this was supposed to be a book review.
David Putnam Author of the Bruno Johnson series.

Capote paints perfect pictures of every character. You can almost feel them breathing right beside you. Their thoughts, their mannerisms, their physique, their psyche, etc. Bravo.

He painstakingly describes every detail—with thousands of commas and dashes preceding thousands of commas and dashes—his keen sense of observation (and exaggeration) is both impressive and tiring at the same time. I felt that Truman probably held the details of every interview close to his heart hence a lot of unnecessary banter between town-folk, relatives and even very minor characters were not omitted. The conversations were crucial, but somewhat too plenty.

I couldn't help but think of one of Disney's famous editing principles while reading this book: If it's not important in the telling of the story, cut it out. Of course, this is way beyond the family-oriented themes good ol' Walt implemented. It's gruesome, shocking and certainly deserves the accolade of the "true-crime" genre.

I love how Capote matter-of-factly drops sentences that depict the horror of the crime done after a rather mundane recollection of events. "I slit his throat." is one. Narratives of Nancy, Sue, Al Dewey stood out, perhaps because they had a natural flow to the story-telling and did not sound like a police report. Mrs. Kidwell's dream, though briefly described and wildly unbelievable, was haunting.

Now let me tell you why I am not impressed. My biggest question is: Would I have enjoyed this book if I didn't know that it was real? Will it stand up on its own minus the decades of controversy around it?

The answer lies in the text itself. The book is obviously a novelized transcript of interviews: if it isn't, then it certainly felt like it was. Truman Capote "filled in the blanks" with suppositions, questionable truths, and fictional drama—that wouldn't be an issue had he not boldly claimed his work to be "non-fiction".

It is my belief that Truman wanted to shock the mainstream with his empathic crusade for the murderers. Without question, he had an affinity for Perry and Judge Tate, and a clear distaste for Dick. Perhaps during the interviews, Hickok was appalled by Truman's nosy intrusions and homosexuality—that's just a guess—while Smith was more accommodating.

I am not sure if I am simply desensitized by the countless crime books, tv shows and movies I've seen. But I did not feel an ounce of pity towards the criminals. Things would have probably been different if I had read this in the 60s or 70s when coverage of crimes like these were bold and anti-Hollywood, therefore "cool".

Forgive my natural tendency to reject what's popular...for what most claim to be "a really great novel". I just had too many "Oh c'mon, how could you (Capote) have been there to know that?" moments to merit praise. Based on further research, many of the characters deny that many events in the book (Mrs. Meir having a picnic with Perry in jail for one) really happened.

Had this been categorized as a tale based on true events, then I would have given it double the stars. If you say this story is true, then I'll be doggoned if pertinent details were fabricated just to express that "creative license". It doesn't only not help in the telling of the story, it just makes the story something else entirely—a fictional one.

I just wonder why it took me so long to get this masterpiece on my currently-reading shelf. What a breathtaking story! And told in the most amazing novelistic style! The cold-blooded murders in Kansas in 1956 are described by a cold, distant narrator via the interviews of the family, acquaintances, and community around the victims and the hair-raising stories of Perry and Bobby, the murderers. It is a real page-turner - I couldn't put it down! The descriptions of the youth of all the tragic protagonists are explored from every angle under a magnifying glass. In Cold Blood kept me thinking that most of the recent murder mystery shows and movies were indebted to this piece of literature (that Capote probably deserved a Pulitzer for but was passed over, helas, in 1965). There is this strange homoeroticism between the two murderers (who call each other "sugar" and "honey") but who both spout homophobic words throughout. Like the lawyers, I felt Richard was the coldest one and Perry the most twisted and tragic.

This book is a true masterpiece of the non-fiction novel (even if some of the facts brought out by Capote were disputed) and its narration is stupendous in character development and maintains an enormous amount of suspense end-to-end. It is even more astounding because the reader already knows who commits the crime, the novel only elucidates the "why" and even that is ambiguous and pathetic. An awesome read.

Note that in A Capote Reader, there is a great short essay about the making of the movie In Cold Blood where Capote talks a bit about the 6 years it took him to write this masterpiece. (Haven't seen the movie yet :/)

[UPDATE] I finally saw the movie Capote and it was absolutely amazing as a backstory to this book. I still haven't found the movie In Cold Blood yet.

APASIONANTE novela, prácticamente perfecta en su modo del que ella misma es precursora… o eso le gustaba pensar a su autor.

Se trata de un hecho real, de tal manera que sabemos que hay un crimen atroz, sabemos quiénes fueron las víctimas, sabemos quiénes fueron los autores de tales asesinatos, sabemos que fueron arrestados y hasta sabemos cuál fue su final, pero nada de ello nos arruina la tensión que Capote supo imprimir al relato, a todas y a cada una de las partes del relato.

n   “… los Clutter. Ninguno de ellos me había hecho ningún daño. Como la otra gente que sí me lo ha hecho. Como esa gente que me ha ido cayendo en suerte en la vida. Puede que a los Clutter les tocara pagar por todos ellos” n

No es de extrañar que el caso llamara la atención de dos escritores de la talla de Capote y Harper Lee (su ayuda en la recogida de información fue crucial dado el entorno del crimen y la homosexualidad y el carácter excéntrico del autor): Kansas, un estado en el conservador corazón de EE.UU.; Holcomb, un pueblo de apenas unos pocos edificios entre los que transcurre las vías de un tren que rara vez hace parada en la estación; una comunidad de vecinos, rancheros en su mayoría, gente próspera, tradicional, y conservadora (Truman los define como republicanos de extrema derecha); una familia formada por un respetable y acomodado matrimonio y sus dos hijos, buenos estudiantes, populares y queridos por todos; un lugar donde nadie cierra la puerta de casa, donde todos se ayudan en lo posible, todos miembros de alguna iglesia y temerosos de Dios; cuatro asesinatos sin sentido, crueles; un botín de apenas unas decenas de dólares.

n   “… aquella tranquila comunidad de buenos vecinos y amigos de toda la vida se vio de pronto enfrentada con la insólita experiencia de tener que desconfiar unos de otros” n

Capote reunió alrededor de 4000 folios con declaraciones de vecinos, de familiares, de la policía, de psicólogos, de los propios asesinos, sus confesiones, el relato de sus vidas, la transcripción de los interrogatorios y del juicio… y se retiró al pueblecito pesquero de Palamós, en la Costa Brava, para dar forma a la novela.

n   “Esa familia representaba todo cuanto la gente de por acá realmente valora y respeta. Y que una cosa así les haya podido suceder precisamente a ellos…, bueno, es como si nos dijeran que no existe Dios. Hace que la vida carezca de sentido” n

Aunque en un principio el propósito del autor era explorar los cambios que la tragedia había causado en una comunidad como la de Holcomb, Capote cambió el enfoque por completo tras los arrestos, siendo su nuevo objetivo comprender las razones que llevaron a Perry Smith y Richard Hickock a cometer hechos tan crueles e irracionales. Sin restar un ápice a la brutalidad del cuádruple crimen, como a otros muchos hechos relacionados con los asesinos, Capote indaga en la humanidad de estos, en sus vidas, en sus problemas, en su mentalidad, en su personalidad, dando vida a unos personajes literarios difíciles de olvidar, especialmente el contradictorio y complejo Perry Smith.

n   “¿Si siento lo que hice? Si te refieres a eso, la respuesta es no. No siento nada. Me gustaría poder decir lo contrario. Pero nada de ello me preocupa lo más mínimo. Media hora después de hacerlo, Dick hacía bromas y yo se las reía. Quizá no somos humanos. Soy lo bastante humano como para sentirlo por mí. Siento no poder salir de aquí cuando tú te vayas. Pero eso es todo… si los hubiera conocido bien, supongo que ahora sentiría algo muy distinto. No creo que pudiera vivir conmigo mismo. Pero tal como estaban las cosas, no fue muy diferente a disparar en una barraca de tiro al blanco” n

Como digo al principio, todas las partes son atrayentes, siendo el morbo, al que tan bien apela el autor, el que nos empuja impacientemente durante todo el relato: el morbo que nos suscita el retrato de aquellos que sabemos que van a morir, la descripción de sus últimos días, de sus últimos momentos; el morbo de seguir a los asesinos en su trayectoria delictiva, de meternos en su cabeza, de encontrar la clave, bien en su naturaleza, bien en su pasado, que explique su cruel comportamiento; el morbo de conocer la brutalidad de los hechos, los comportamientos de unos y otros; el morbo que se desprende de la persecución policial de unos asesinos que se creían a salvo; el morbo de asistir al momento justo en el que son atrapados y, en el interrogatorio, acusados; el morbo del juicio, tremendamente parcial; y, por último, el morbo de su final.

"I thought he was a very nice gentleman. Soft-spoken. I thought so right up to the moment I cut his throat."
- Truman Capote, In Cold Blood



I'm not sure why I waited so long to sit down and read this novel. I've read and enjoyed Other Voices, Other Rooms and Breakfast at Tiffany's. Perhaps, it is just that the novel wasn't very, well, novel. Without having read it I felt I already knew it. I was surrounded by New Nonfiction inspired by Truman Capote's 1966 book (originally published serially in the New Yorker). Everyone now seemed to write long-journalism pieces like Capote. His influence on journalism and especially on New Journalism was huge. But my kids were reading Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird and, perhaps, triggered by some vague, dusty memory that Harper Lee and Truman Capote were cousins and that she helped Capote out with the research and interviews for 'In Cold Blood' I decided it was the right time to read one of my copies (I own a first edition* and a Modern Library copy).

I wasn't born, but apparently when this came out in the New Yorker back in the mid-1960s it was a sensation. I'm trying to think of a series of articles recently that could compare. Probably the closest thing might be the PODCAST "Serial" or the TV show "Making a Murderer", but I still sense that it was bigger. It was one of those works that both made the author and kind of destroyed him too.

Anyway, it was brutal. Brutal because of its very humanity. Dick and Perry aren't painted as horrible (or even scary) killers. Like Arendt, Capote's trick (perhaps not trick) is to show us how banal, how casual evil is. It was like staring wickedness in the face and recognizing just a bit of oneself (but the boring, cereal eating side). It reminded me of a German Shepherd my dad (a veterinarian) rescued once when I was a kid. He was viscous. I spent hours trying to "tame" him. Over months I was able to (I thought) reduce the anger, the fear, the viciousness in this dog. But occasionally I would see it. He (the dog) hated old people. An old man or woman would walk by our fence and "Bozo" would go mad. We finally found an adopted home for him. Months later, we heard he had jumped an 8 foot fence and attacked an old man and had to be put down. I remember thinking how sad it was. I loved that dog, but at the same time, I recognized that there was something IN that dog that was dangerous and would never change. Anyway, that was kind of how I felt reading about Perry. Here is a man who had, at one level, a certain gentle quality, but without regret, without much pushing, could also quickly kill another human being. I think that duality. That humanity touched by that evil is what haunts that book and makes it relevant now and into the future.

* These aren't very rare because the first edition of 'In Cold Blood' was printed like it was the Bible in 1966 because of the interest shown by the original New Yorker articles.

Del nostro male non rida nessuno

“Certe volte, quando penso a quanto potrebbe essere bello, mi manca il respiro. L’intera faccenda è l’esperienza più interessante della mia vita e, a dire il vero, mi ha cambiato la vita, ha cambiato il mio punto di vista su quasi tutto – è un gran lavoro, credimi, e se fallisco avrò vinto comunque”. Truman Capote, Lettera a Newton Arvin

Considerando la solitudine e la sofferenza nelle quali Capote concluse i suoi giorni, niente di più lontano dalla realtà appare questa sua valutazione; ma del resto, Capote non è uno scrittore a una dimensione, è una personalità tanto geniale quanto eclettica, che interpretò ogni ruolo la vita abbia desiderato assegnargli. A sangue freddo è un testo fondativo del genere non fiction novel e pietra miliare che tiene a battesimo il new journalism. Romanzo maledetto e sacro, oggettivo e analitico, realistico fino alla vertigine. Abile nello stile accurato e esatto, capace di scavare nella meraviglia e nell'orrore con leggerezza e profondità. Lo sguardo dell'inviato del New Yorker si rivela in certi aspetti affine a quello cinematografico di Hitchcock. Sono notevoli i film relativi al libro, quello del 1967 che vinse quattro Oscar, una trasposizione noir e gotica del libro; e quello del 2005 che parla di Capote e di come arrivò a scrivere il libro, con l'indimenticabile Philip Seymour Hoffman. La storia e le sue coincidenze. il 15 novembre 1959 la famiglia di un proprietario terriero, madre, padre, ragazza e ragazzo, trovò la morte senza un movente autentico, solo perché due spostati cercavano di arricchirsi, cercavano una cassaforte piena di soldi che non c'era. Due ex detenuti che incontrandosi danno origine a una terza personalità, quella criminale. Il massacro è brutale, sangue, corde, un fucile, i colpi al volto, la fuga. Lo spirito dell'autore uscì inguaribilmente trasformato dall'esperienza vissuta nell'America rurale e cupa, ai margini della Corn Belt, nel racconto di questo assassinio e della esecuzione conseguente. È possibile scrivere un'inchiesta su un crimine immotivato e crudele con un'intima nudità tanto disarmante? Naturalmente. Capote fu figlio rinnegato e disperato, abbandonato nell'infanzia e così condannato a una vita di tormentosa e angosciante ricerca narcisistica. L'autore diventò amico e confidente dei colpevoli, specialmente di uno di loro. Fu sostenuto dall'amica Harper Lee e scrisse lettere ad Alvin Dewey, che era a capo delle indagini in Kansas, e ne frequentò la famiglia. Non furono i sentimenti in gioco, ma la sopravvivenza emotiva all'incontro con l'orrore; e così Capote fu in grado di sentire tanto a fondo l'intensità della storia reale, per poi liberarsi nella narrazione in una eccezione autoriale di incosciente assenza, realizzando un libro perfetto, che lo porta alla fama dannata ed eterna. Del resto non si scrivono capolavori senza essere, anche solo per qualche significativo istante, disperatamente infelici.

“Ma poi, nelle prime ore di quella mattina di novembre, una domenica, certi rumori estranei penetrarono nei normali suoni notturni di Holcomb: il lugubre isterismo dei coyotes, il fruscio secco degli amaranti in fuga, il fischio delle locomotive che si allontanavano veloci. Al momento neppure un'anima di Holcomb, villaggio immerso nel sonno, li udì: quattro colpi di fucile che, a conti fatti, posero fine a sei vite umane. Ma in seguito gli abitanti della cittadina, fino a quel momento abbastanza fiduciosi da prendersi raramente la briga di sbarrare la porta di casa, indugiarono a ricrearli più e più volte – cupe detonazioni che facevano divampare incendi di sfiducia al cui riverbero molti buoni vicini di un tempo si guardavano stranamente, come estranei”.

I think this is the third time I've read this true-crime novel: first time was in high school, and the second was after I moved to Kansas City, but both of those times were pre-Goodreads.

This third time happened to be the most enlightening one, as it followed a reading of "Furious Hours" by Casey Cep, which described how critical Harper Lee was to the reporting of Capote's book. This meant I read "In Cold Blood" with a more critical eye, and spent more time questioning Capote's descriptions and motives. I still appreciated the structure and pacing of the book, but I was more troubled by the amount of sympathy shown for the killers.

"In Cold Blood" is still a great true-crime book, but I'm not sure if I'll be picking it up for a fourth time.

n‘’When such apparently senseless murders occur, they are seen to be an end result of a period of increasing tension and disorganization in the murderer starting before contact with the victim who, by fitting into the unconscious conflicts of the murderer, unwittingly serves to set into motion his homicidal potential’’

Murder Without Apparent Motive: A Study in Personality Disorganization
The American Journal of Psychiatry, Volume 117, Issue 1, July 1960, 48-53

On November 16, 1959 Truman Capote happened to notice a small article on page thirty-nine of The New York Times titled ‘’A wealthy wheat farmer, his wife and their two young children were found shot to death today in their home: H. W. Clutter, wife and children are found shot in Kansas home’’. Working for The New Yorker at the time, he wanted to write an article on the weight of the impact the murders had on the tiny community of Holcomb, Kansas. So he went there with his childhood friend Harper Lee to gather material for his piece. The outcome was articles in four instalments (from September 17 - October 8, 1965) for The New Yorker, and of course ultimately this classic non-fiction novel.



Capote knew that this book would be immensely successful even before it was published. In fact, he did all he could to make sure of it. He wrote in a letter to the publisher Bennett Cerf whilst writing this book from Costa Brava, Spain;

n  ‘’I’m all right. Living quietly; see literally no one; and am totally concentrated on IN COLD BLOOD. My enthusiasm is as high as ever. No, higher. It is going to be a masterpiece: I mean that. Because if it isn’t, then it’s nothing, and I shall have wasted two or three years. But - I have great confidence; and that is not always the case.’’ n

Small aside, I can’t help but think of the late Philip Seymour Hoffman and his riveting performance as Truman Capote in Bennett Miller’s film whenever I read any of Capote’s letters. The acting techniques Hoffman employed to get the voice and idiosyncrasies of Capote with an astounding precision is nothing less than sublime. Hoffman was able to immaculately encapsulate every emotion that Capote went through while writing this book.



So, back to the review, what makes the book memorable is the way it renders that gruesome crime in a very expressive southern gothic manner. It gives those involved in this story multiple dimensions while navigating astutely through a myriad of gray areas in the backstories of the perpetrators. Another important subject it covers is the delicate topic that is mental health evaluation in the criminal justice system. It also served as a conduit for Capote to air his stance on capital punishment. In his 1968 appearance on The Firing Line Show with William F. Buckley Jr., he said;

n  ‘’People simply don’t know what capital punishment does as a deterrent in relation to a man’s motivation for a crime…….if the death penalty was imposed in a genuine and authentic way, then I think it would be an effective deterrent against violent crime. But since it is not, and in fact it is a masquerade in which people are cruelly selected very arbitrarily and occasionally executed, then I think it should be abolished’’. n

This is a book for which Capote set apart years of hard work and devotion. His extensive research notes and manuscript drafts held at The New York Public Library testify to this. It’s now clear that he took a certain measure of creative licence in putting together the story. I will not get into all the accusations of authenticity levelled at Capote and the book. My contention is that, inherently the non-fiction novel genre suffers from the fact that life is very rarely stranger than fiction. As such, it needs embroidering here and there. I don’t necessarily mind a moderate level of embroidering. Whatever the case, it remains one of the greatest achievements of 20th century American literature.

With the glut of crime-related progams - both factual and fictional- on primetime television and the daily bombardment of crime we receive from the news media, you might assume this would be just one more crime story. The fact is, it is a very compelling description, by those involved as well as by Capote, of the brutal murder of a family and of the investigation, trial, and execution of those who committed it. The accounts of the individuals who first found and first investigated the the scene of the murders and the confession of Perry Smith (one of the murderers) are among the most powerfully gripping passages I have ever read.

One of Capote's purposes is to raise the question - without offering an answer - of whether one should be held accountable for his actions if he is incapable of controlling himself due to traumas that effect his personality. He shows that the community of pyschiatric professionals is divided on the issue and that the courts at that time tended to assume the individual to be accountable. Having read East of Eden within a month before finishing In Cold Blood, I couldn't help but contrast Steinbeck's view that we each have free will and are therefore responsible for the choices we make between the good and evil that constantly battle within us and the view - toward which Capote seemed to lean - that circumstances can make us incapable of choosing between good and evil thus absolving us of responsibility for our actions.

While the book doesn't provide answers to many of the questions it raises, it is one that will keep you up late reading even though you already know the ending.