Here is more junk from Dean
This book makes me feel unclean
It's a bloated waste of time
It's a bother to make this rhyme
--the Book of Counted Sorrows
We may as well start with that title, Dark Rivers of the Heart. Melodrama much? You can practically hear the 1980s saxophone solo reverberating through the title. It’s a harbinger of things to come.
The story opens with our protagonist, Spencer, stalking a woman. She was the waitress at the bar the previously night, who chatted with him. Spencer has returned the following evening, and is distressed to find out she’s not at work. So distressed, in fact, he decides he should drive to her house and check on her. He creeps around and doesn’t see her. When she doesn’t answer the door, he breaks in and starts taking a look at her stuff and trying to learn about her.
Though Koontz is at pains to try to frame this as normal and good behavior, I guess I have to point out that it’s not. It is, in fact, extremely scary and an awful thing to do. Spencer has great difficulty understanding appropriate boundaries and there is no question his behavior is criminal. He deserves to go to prison right away.
Spencer is your basic arch-Koontzian hero type. It’s the only type that Koontz writes. He is a Very Good Man with a Dark Secret. The woman that Spencer is doing his best to terrorize at the beginning of the novel is Ellie. She is also the stock Koontz type of love interest: faultless, hyper-competent (able, for instance, to commandeer foreign defense satellites from a laptop computer in a car in 1994, because…hacking), also with a mysterious and painful past. We also get the obligatory Koontz dog, which is contractually required to include in each story.
Spencer and Ellie get wrapped up in a plot that involves a clandestine government agency the employs a sadistic bureaucrat willing to torture and kill in the name of a misplaced, vaguely liberal ideology. Might as well spend a minute on our villains here as well. Roy, our main bad guy, likes to kill people in the name of empathy. For instance, if someone is in a wheelchair, he may shoot them because he feels so sad for them. I’m sure this is supposed to be a skewering take on PC liberal values, though it is, uh, dumb as hell. There is also a beautiful woman whose main quality is that she is ambitious and enjoys self-pleasure, and [obligatory spoiler warning] a surprise last minute bad guy whose “art” involves seeing beauty in the pain of others. The spoiler warning is truly unnecessary, since 100% of readers of the book will see the twist a mile away.
The novel is simultaneously rote and extraordinarily long-winded. It’s over 550 pages when it easily could have been 350. In the middle sections, I frequently experienced déjà vu, reading the endless chase sequences again and again.
Now is the part of the review where I really slide in pedantism and quote parts of the book at you, for you experience the majesty yourself:
Page 83, [our hero Spenser is talking to a restaurant owner/landlord who is a Mysterious Asian with Deep Insights]:
“After a pause, with his eyes still hidden by the patterns of reflected color that glimmered in his eyeglasses, he continued: ‘The larger a government, the more likely it is to be riddle with such covert organizations—some small but some not. We have a very big government, Mr. Grant.’
‘Yes, but—‘
“Direct and indirect taxes require the average citizen to work from January until the middle of July to pay for that government. Then working men and women begin to labor for themselves.”
Ok, first of all, this statistic is complete bullshit. Secondly, look how much Koontz is awkwardly trying to shoehorn his email forward political ideas into the story. It completely kills any momentum in terms of character or plot. This is both bad politics and bad writing.
Koontz does a very similar thing on page 309, where he interrupts his (previously alluded to) story about commandeering a spy satellite to interject some garbage about EPA: “The EPA cooperated so successfully with the Department of Justice that a citizen who even inadvertently contaminated protected wetlands was at risk of spending more time in prison than would a doped-up gangsta dude who killed a 7-Eleven clerk, a pregnant mother, two nuns, and a kitten while he was stealing forty dollars and a Mars bar.” Ho-ho! Koontz really hitting the bad writing jackpot with being stupid, unfunny, and killing story momentum all at once.
These are a couple of examples but the book is littered with this nonsense. Usually these are dressed up, like the EPA comment, as “funny” side commentaries. They’re the kinds of things your uninformed grandpa might say. Maybe it doesn’t bother you, but it certainly is a distraction for me. Authors that want to engage with social issues are great—but you have a responsibility to make some effort to accurately describe reality.
At the conclusion of the book, Spenser and Ellie have evaded capture from an all-powerful, high-tech quasi-governmental unit and are on the run. Rather than trying to find somewhere to hide out, Spenser convinces Ellie to stop by the old farm where he grew up and had a traumatic experience as child. This moment, he decides for some apparent reason, is when he wants to go back and try to remember the events of the past, which he conveniently has amnesia-ed out of his brain.
I’m tired of writing this review and I’m sure you’re tired of reading it, if you’ve gotten this far.
There’s no reason, plot-wise, that he should want to stop off at the old place, but Koontz needs to tidy up the end of the book by having him confront all of his old demons in both literal and metaphorical senses. The place is chosen for symbolic value, even though it makes no sense in a variety of ways.
No moral ambiguity is allowed to exist—the bad guys are very bad and our good guy is completely good (at this point, we are expected to have forgotten about his breaking and entering and stalking from the first part of the book.). Justice is supposedly served and everybody lives happily ever after.
We also get a whole other side-plot forced into the last part of the book about some kind of network of resistance fighters, but you don’t want to hear about it and I don’t want to write about it. It is just as bad as the rest of it.
I’ve read and reviewed a lot of Koontz in my time, often being very hard on him. However, the last few books of his I read prior to this, I took it a little easier and tried to be more forgiving. I don’t have that forgiveness in me this time around. This book is an offense. It’s as bad as his worst work dating back to his early novels. It’s called Dark Rivers of the Heart, but it makes me think Koontz has dark rivers in his brain.