This is the first installment in a series of mysteries/psychological thrillers told from the perspective of a serial killer named Dexter. In his day job, he is a forensic pathologist specializing in blood splatter with the Miami-Dade PD. In this book he ends up being called on a lot as he has an eerie but not surprising talent for profiling serial killers.
I enjoyed this book a lot but it wasn’t because of the plot which is fine but nothing extraordinary. And while the concluding scene for the mystery was tense and exciting it was also pretty crazily far-fetched on a few different levels. The writing is good however, the imagery unique and there are several lines that made me laugh out loud.
What’s really great about this book is the character of Dexter. I knew going in that he was a serial killer but I thought that Jeff Lindsay would somehow blunt this fact in order to make his character more likeable. The amazing thing is that he doesn’t do this at all and yet Dexter is still likeable – I felt empathy for him and rooted for him throughout the book. He does make Dexter a serial killer of serial killers – he’s killing people who “deserve” it - but he’d love and feels drawn to killing other people as well even those close to him. Dexter is fascinated by and in awe of the serial killer they are tracking in the book and he is somewhat ambivalent about helping catch him. But the key is that Dexter doesn’t let his less worthy urges overcome him and while he prattles on about his inhumanity and lack of any human emotion, Jeff Lindsay does a brilliant job of subtly showing that Dexter doesn’t know himself as well as he thinks he does. And while Dexter scoffs at the silly little humans there is not just a little bit of self-loathing seeping through. He’s a fascinating character that carries you through the book with ease.
This is a book with a truly original narrator and an okay story. Dexter was enough to make me love it.