Daring Dexter
I was a latecomer to the Dexter series and, curiosity piqued, I read what I thought was a series of seven books. Turns out to be eight, and I needed to wait a short while for the publication of the last. Annoying to a reader who read seven consecutively all the way through, but an interesting exercise in comparing the books to the show. At the same time, I continued to watch the series and kudos has to go to the writer, the producers, and Michael C.Hall for creating what should be a despicable character and making him likeable. Michael’s portrayal is outstanding as a great deal of feeling for Dexter Morgan comes from his performance. Not that I’m forgetting the supporting characters cast equally well.
There
are differences between the books and series—and I had no reason to
worry about reading and watching simultaneously as aside from the first
title the books approach a different tangent. There are as many
similarities as there are differences, and someone can enjoy both
without interfering with the other.
Having said all that, I
will add something I rarely say.
I prefer the series. This is not to belittle the books or the writer.
Usually, I’d chose a book over a filmed adaptation or like them equally,
but the series lasted for so long it explored Dexter’s personality to a
greater depth and questioned many more issues. The books are lighter,
although the series portrays a serial killer who delivers a quicker and
cleaner death. The books aren’t explicit but delivers a far different
scenario—the Dexter of the books likes to play a little. What I disliked
most from the books was the paranormal aspects added to one story
and the suggested evolution of the ‘Dark Passenger’. This appeared to
provide an excuse and a pardon for every killer’s behaviour. I also
disliked Dexter the most in book seven and in a way I’ve never disliked
the character on screen. Television Dexter developed, became far more
multi-layered than the book version. What’s not to prefer? Still, as
always there would be no series without the books, without the writer.
It’s too easy to watch television forgetting without the writer there is
nothing.
My current dilemma is, owning both the series
and the novels, and attempting to be more ruthless with what I keep…do I
abandon the books to the charity pile? I guess maybe…though perhaps not
yet. Should I want to write an anti-hero sometime, Dexter is a character worth more examination.
