Kay Scarpetta is that friend you were super close to when you're young. You loved her to death when you were little, you were thick as thieves in elementary school, and you were inseparable in middle school. When you got to high school, things started to change. Little things at first that started to wriggle between you. A comment here, a new friend there. You start to develop new interests and, by the time senior year rolls around, you just wave in the hallway and that's it. You don't talk through college. You get the invitation to your high school reunion and you think back to being kids and you think, yeah, it'll be great to see that old friend again. Nostalgia. She turns out to be a loud, obnoxious, bigot with a fake tan and a bad dye job who gets drunk really early and tries to get everyone to buy into her sleazy husband's hedge fund. You go home and ask yourself how you could ever have been friends with her.
I loved this series for so long that it just makes me sad how bad it is now. I keep picking the books up out of nostalgia, but each one is worse than the last. There are so many things wrong, I barely know where to begin.
The pacing. Christ the pacing. Noting happens for so long it almost seems like a joke. Like she was daring her editor to say something and the editor didn't have the guts. I don't know how long it takes to fly a helicopter from Dover to Boston, but, based on this book I have to assume 7-10 days. I listened to this as an audiobook while running 30 minutes a day, every other day. It took me almost two weeks to get through the helicopter trip. I am not even kidding right now. Almost two weeks. I nearly cried with relief when they landed, but then it took me another week to get through the drive from the airport to her office.
Speaking of- what's with the snow? She described snow hitting the windscreen of the helicopter, snow hitting the windshield of the car, and snow hitting the window of her office so many times I thought I was having deja vu. It was awful, unoriginal, and deathly dull. We get it. It's snowing. Please talk about something else. Anything else. Except helicopters. I spent the last two weeks listening to you dry hump a helicopter, I'll listen to anything else.
I think that's the thing, though, even when something happened, nothing happened. Scarpetta used to do things. Incredible things. Brilliant, almost unbelievable things. Now things just happen around her and she is this wide-eyed, brainless voyeur that in no way resembles the character she once was. She is alternately confident in her marriage, worried about her own coldness to Benton,and worried he is sleeping with every woman he works with, often within the same thought. He is alternately an emasculated wimp, a liar, a gentle partner, and a cold jerk, often within the same thought. Humans are complex creatures, sure, but this isn't the layers of a complex character, it's too sporadic for that. It feels like the ravings of a madwoman.
Of course, it isn't just Scarpetta and Benton. The characterization in this novel is wildly inconsistent. Scarpetta labels Lucy a sociopath because she is calm, calculating, and doesn't share her emotions. Marino, meanwhile, who, let us not forget because Scarpetta seems to have forgotten, attempted to rape her a few years ago, is a good guy who can be trusted. She actually said that. She said it to a dog, but still, she said it. How does this make sense in her head? He spews hate, racism, misogyny, and sexually violent fantasies in normal conversation and that's cool. A woman with a law enforcement and military background calmly assesses situations and doesn't sugar coat them and that makes her dangerous. Sure. That's rational. (sarcasm font)
Speaking of irrational- this plot is nuts. And not in the 'oooh- I didn't see that coming' suspense novel kinda way. In a 'what is she smoking' kinda way. Selling the semen of dead guys back to their families so they could have dead guy's baby? How on Earth could anyone think that would be a viable black market opportunity? Not one family member of the one hundred patients he stole body fluids from turned the creep medical examiner in? Not one? Then there is a long explanation about how nanobots in drugs could make Jack do all these crazy things, followed closely by a one paragraph explanation about how actually he didn't do any of those things. It was the daughter who was produced in a childhood trauma never before discussed who did it. What?! And the whole South Africa thing that had nothing to do with nothing?! Where did that come from and why?!
I just can't even with Kay Scarpetta or Patricia Cornwell anymore. I. Just. Can't. Even.