Yikes.
Essentially, this novel breaks down to three main characters: Lori, the sexually aggressive runaway, Eric, the teenaged serial killer, and Det. Proctor, the overeager detective looking to reconcile failures in his past.
Each of the characters is broken, and by broken, I mean that they are mentally damaged, very much so.
Lori's been sexually abused by her mother's string of abusive boyfriends (I'm inferring that; nothing is said straight out), and defiantly uses sex as a weapon and as a means to an end.
Eric was molested by his mom (again, inference) and has become obsessed with recreating that tenderness with girls who look like her. Well. But he kills them first.
Det. Proctor could not undisputedly discover the identity of a serial killer in Oregon, though he suspected it was a cleancut helpful teenage boy who gave away his deviancy with a triumphant smile only Proctor could see. Proctor moved across the country only to get involved in a similar case, fifteen-year-old Eric, who murdered his mom and stepfather, claiming he was physically abused by them.
Because of this claim, Eric is allowed to stay at a juvenile facility until his eighteenth birthday, when he will be released, his records will be sealed, and he will be free to kill again.
It's shortly after his release that Lori meets up with Eric, seeking him out; she says she is "fixated" on him. He, in turn, wants nothing to do with her, but the two are drawn together by their brokenness; when they're together, Lori isn't sexually aggressive, and Eric actually starts to awaken emotionally, to feel tenderness with her that has nothing to do with the release he felt when he murdered his five victims.
The book is disturbing but captivating. I don't read a lot of true crime books, so I don't often "go into the mind of the killer," or whatever. The additional factor of the murderer's age--HE COULD BE IN MY CLASSROOM--is pretty frightening, as is his coldness and objectivity; he is the classic sociapathic archetype, and he is SCARY.
I'm not quite sold on Eric's sexual abuse as a root for his behavior--that might not be what the author intended anyway; perhaps that just awakened some sort of latent tendency toward violence, or maybe he is just innately evil.
I'll tell you what's pretty gross, is that I started to feel a little empathy for him, for his eternal search for tenderness, even if it meant he had to kill to find it. Ultimately, obviously, I don't condone his behavior or find anything justifiable in it, but for just a minute, there was a tiny spark of relatability to him, like he was thisclose to salvation, and I was even rooting for him a little bit, and that scared me--being on the bad guy's side, I mean. Who does that make me?
*The following is teacher stuff for me to remember*
Not a read-aloud book, and not a lit circle book, but one I would recommend to MODERATELY WELL-ADJUSTED teenagers who won't use this as a murder textbook.
However, if the book affected ME this deeply, and made ME think some pretty big thoughts, it could serve to open a discussion with students, to help them start thinking about culpability, nature v. nurture, consequences of actions, etc.