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Paris Trout
A gothic tale of murder, injustice, and mayhem in a small Georgia town at the end of WW II, by the hypnotically gifted author of God's Pocket (1983) and Deadwood (1986). Paris Trout - a disheveled, miserly, eccentric, and amoral but nonetheless locally respectable hardware-store owner and loan shark - is the murderer; his victim is a 14-year-old black girl named Rosie Sayers, whom he kills in a shooting spree brought on by a black boy's failure to repay a loan. Much against the will of the comfortable Southern town, Trout's trial is a fair one, and he's sentenced to prison; but Trout is smart, wily, and resolute with a mad determination not to pay for something he doesn't consider to have been a crime - with the result that he bribes and blackmails his way out of jail, returning to the town as a living irritant to its inhabitants' consciences. But Trout grows and, finally, urine-stained and utterly deluded. With a conviction that his estranged wife - a wonderful, stoical character by the name of Hannah Trout - is poisoning him, Trout holes up in the county courthouse during the town's sesquicentennial celebration and, having shot his stroke-ridden mother in the head ("I end my connections with everything that come before"), opens fire on the rest of his his lawyer, Harry Seagraves; his wife's divorce lawyer ("the youngest Eagle Scout in the history of the state"), and other local noteworthies and respectables. Once again, Dexter shows a mesmerizing mastery of character development, pace and tone; Cotton Point, Ga., lives and breathes, and Paris Trout menaces us and he menaces it. The larger message - that racism is a form of madness that overspills its boundaries - is murky; but this is nonetheless a fascinating read. (Kirkus Reviews)
334 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1988
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4524 people want to read
About the author
Pete Dexter
22 books278 followersPete Dexter is the author of the National Book Award-winning novel Paris Trout and five other novels: God's Pocket, Deadwood, Brotherly Love, The Paperboy, and Train. He has been a columnist for the Philadelphia Daily News and the Sacramento Bee, and has contributed to many magazines, including Esquire, Sports Illustrated, and Playboy. His screenplays include Rush and Mulholland Falls. Dexter was born in Michigan and raised in Georgia, Illinois, and eastern South Dakota. He lives on an island off the coast of Washington.
See more at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pete_Dexter
See more at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pete_Dexter
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 523 reviews
January 13, 2016
The writers I enjoy most are men of few words. So much can be said with so little when done right and it's a testament to the mastery of the written word when an author achieves this. Like Cormac McCarthy, Pete Dexter's prose has just as much to do with what is left unsaid, as with what has been spoken. Both men have an acute sense of southern darkness and weave worlds out of flesh, bone, and bleak realities. Never a word wasted, this novel is a lean and fast read.
'Paris Trout' is a story from more than a half century ago, and takes place in a part of the world that was dragged into the future kicking and screaming. Georgia in the middle of the 20th century was particularly cruel outside of white male dominion. The kind of inhumane trespasses and general treatment of black people was shocking and upsetting, and more importantly, it wasn't actually that long ago either...
Paris Trout, the main character, is a man from another time too, a time where overt racism was commonplace, celebrated, and often deadly. He cannot adapt with the changing times, does not abide by updated laws that now protect people equally regardless of skin color. He meets this new world with righteous indignation and increasing hostility. Soon, Paris is lashing out at anyone he perceives as weaker, and is shocked when he discovers he can't kill a minority as freely as he once thought.
'Paris Trout' is the story of one person's slow descent into madness, an insolent and hateful man being told he can no longer conduct business in the manner he has known his whole life. His defense lawyer and wife are the two people who bare witness to his increasing insanity as he fights a changing world that won't tolerate the likes of him much longer.
This is a disturbing tale told by a master storyteller. It will get under your skin, regardless of color. By the end it will leave you feeling like you've chewed long and hard on a particularly rotten piece of America's history.
It's very hard to swallow. And very necessary to digest.
'Paris Trout' is a story from more than a half century ago, and takes place in a part of the world that was dragged into the future kicking and screaming. Georgia in the middle of the 20th century was particularly cruel outside of white male dominion. The kind of inhumane trespasses and general treatment of black people was shocking and upsetting, and more importantly, it wasn't actually that long ago either...
Paris Trout, the main character, is a man from another time too, a time where overt racism was commonplace, celebrated, and often deadly. He cannot adapt with the changing times, does not abide by updated laws that now protect people equally regardless of skin color. He meets this new world with righteous indignation and increasing hostility. Soon, Paris is lashing out at anyone he perceives as weaker, and is shocked when he discovers he can't kill a minority as freely as he once thought.
'Paris Trout' is the story of one person's slow descent into madness, an insolent and hateful man being told he can no longer conduct business in the manner he has known his whole life. His defense lawyer and wife are the two people who bare witness to his increasing insanity as he fights a changing world that won't tolerate the likes of him much longer.
This is a disturbing tale told by a master storyteller. It will get under your skin, regardless of color. By the end it will leave you feeling like you've chewed long and hard on a particularly rotten piece of America's history.
It's very hard to swallow. And very necessary to digest.
September 10, 2020
What does the name evoke? (It is definitely not at all whatever your mind conjours forth.) Glamour; no less luxury--the poshest of all European capitals--Paris of France that is. & a trout is a despicably delicious foodstuff, but slimy member of the undertow no less. It's positively an oxymoron! Like tasteful trash. Artistic porn.
But as a novel, boy does it deliver the goods. "Paris Trout" is one of those train, beach, bus reads... oh, for days!
The 2 most memorable, iconic, horrorshow events in the book are the inciting death of the 14 year old girl. Grizzly, awful, in-your- face. The realism hooks you in for the ride. The second is the eponymous character himself; one to position himself next to Hannibal Lecter in his lonebshark attack stance. He will kill you and he'll get away with it, but with ignorance as the man's weapon (which may be scarier, I think). The sequence leading to the end feels disjointed, almost betraying the reader-writer relationship earned so naturally from page two or three.
And, well, the point in which the novel ends feels like a validation to the White Privilege we all wish to escape, bare witness everyday. Nepotism. Racism. Sexism. Deep shit.
It's a true tragedy that after the court scene the novel never returns to its initial terror and raw artistic fervor.
But as a novel, boy does it deliver the goods. "Paris Trout" is one of those train, beach, bus reads... oh, for days!
The 2 most memorable, iconic, horrorshow events in the book are the inciting death of the 14 year old girl. Grizzly, awful, in-your- face. The realism hooks you in for the ride. The second is the eponymous character himself; one to position himself next to Hannibal Lecter in his lonebshark attack stance. He will kill you and he'll get away with it, but with ignorance as the man's weapon (which may be scarier, I think). The sequence leading to the end feels disjointed, almost betraying the reader-writer relationship earned so naturally from page two or three.
And, well, the point in which the novel ends feels like a validation to the White Privilege we all wish to escape, bare witness everyday. Nepotism. Racism. Sexism. Deep shit.
It's a true tragedy that after the court scene the novel never returns to its initial terror and raw artistic fervor.
February 6, 2018
Paris Trout: Slipping Into Darkness
“Just as there are physical monsters, can there not be mental or psychic monsters born? The face and body may be perfect, but if a twisted gene or malformed egg can produce physical monsters, may not the same process produce a malformed soul?
Monsters are variations from the accepted normal to a greater or a less degree. As a child may be born without an arm, so one may be born without kindness or the potential of conscience. A man who loses his arms in an accident has a great struggle to adjust himself to the lack, but one born without arms suffers only from people who find him strange. Having never had arms, he cannot miss them. To a monster the norm must seem monstrous, since everyone is normal to himself. To the inner monster it must be even more obscure, since he has no visible thing to compare with others. To a criminal, honesty is foolish. You must not forget that a monster is only a variation, and that to a monster the norm is monstrous. ―John Steinbeck, East of Eden, Chapter Eight (1952)
I first read Paris Trout in the Fall of 1989. I had been an Assistant District Attorney for over ten years. I had come to believe in monsters as Steinbeck described them. I came to know them. Try them for their inhumane crimes against the weak. The young, the old, the unprotected innocents of my home town and County in Alabama. It was a time I struggled to convince juries that such unspeakable acts were common place in their community. For it is natural that men and women would prefer to think that such things happen. To admit it was to acknowledge that they, too could also be savaged. In closing argument in trials of the most horrendous crimes, I often quoted what Steinbeck wrote of Cathy Ames in East of Eden.
So I was not surprised at the violence of Peter Dexter's novel. I had met Paris Trout. More than once. And I would meet him many more times before I retired from the District Attorney's Office after almost twenty-eight years to become the Director of a Domestic Violence and Sexual Assault program providing services to victims of those crimes. And I would continue to meet the Paris Trouts of my community for almost another four years when I resigned. I had had enough. I thought.
It would take two years of private practice, largely spent as the Guardian ad Litem for children in the Juvenile and Family Courts before I would throw in the towel. And even then, it was not wanting to quit, but to care for my Mother in her final illness. After her death, I chose not to return to the practice of law.
Just as the words of John Steinbeck describing the potential of human evil have remained with me, so has this novel. Paris Trout. It's message is much the same as East of Eden. Evil exists. It happens. We choose to be good and refrain from evil. Or not.
Peter Dexter brings us to the world of Ether County, Georgia, during the height of the summer's heat. There is a rabies epidemic surrounding the little county seat, Cotton Point. Although it might have been during the dog days of late summer, it is not dogs that carry the disease, but foxes. One bites twelve year old Rosie Sayers on her way home to the "Bottoms." That area that is relegated to the black members of the community. She was returning from Paris Trout's store after purchasing some .22 Caliber bullets for one of her mother's male visitors when she was bitten. She feels poisoned by the fox's bite.
But Rosie will not die of Rabies. She will not be provided enough time for us to know whether she contracted the disease. Paris Trout will kill her, shooting her multiple times, as his henchman Buddy Devonne guns down Mary McNutt whose house Trout has come to collect a debt on the sale of a rattle trap car sold to Tommy Ray who lives at the same house, but not present when Trout comes to call. He has run from the house when he sees Trout approaching.
Trout's business primarily caters to the black community. Of course, Trout does not use polite language to describe the greatest number of his customers. Trout charges them excessive prices. Charges interest on credit extended. His is an usurious practice. Not an uncommon practice. It occurred through more than one Southern state, resulting in the passage of Usury laws that capped the interest rate a money lender could charge.
But the old days have begun to change in Cotton Point, Georgia. Ward Townes, the County Solicitor, charges Paris Trout with the murder of Rosie and the attempted murder of Mary McNutt who still carries four bullets in her body following the attack on her. Dexter spins a tale of classic Southern Gothic Literature.
Harry Seagraves, one of the town's lawyers, considered among the best in his profession, will defend Paris Trout. A decision he comes to regret. For Trout is one of those clients who is every lawyer's nightmare. The client who will not listen to advice, the client who constantly reminds Counsel what he has paid for.
As Trout's trial approaches, Dexter reveals Trout's penchant for violence. Trout dominates, controls, and abuses his wife Hannah, a former school teacher. Trout in exercising his control over his wife performs an act of sexual torture upon her. The act is not for Trout's sexual gratification. Sex offenses rarely are about sex, but the exercise of power, the need to control another human being, to humiliate them, turning them into women incapable of resisting or leaving the relationship with their abuser.
Hannah Trout emerges as a complex character in Dexter's novel. She will not abide Trout's crimes further, but relentlessly pursues a divorce from him. She seeks Harry Seagrave to represent her. However, professional ethics do not allow him to take her case as he represents Trout. He refers her to a younger lawyer, Carl Bonner to handle the divorce. Bonner is also an intricate character, burdened with the reputation of having been the youngest Eagle Scout to have lived in the State of Georgia. It is a reputation that will influence his pushing Paris Trout to dangerous limits, though Seagraves cautions him that there are matters that should not be pushed to far, or too hard.
Seagraves further complicates the question of how Paris Trout is to be dealt with by becoming involved in a relationship with Hannah. She is a passionate lover loosened from her bond to Trout.
As the novel hurtles to its conclusion, Peter Dexter rachets up scene after scene of unintended consequences and mistakes by the townspeople that lead to Trout's descent into paranoia, and a desire for revenge against all those whom he thinks have betrayed him.
There can be no reasonable resolution to this novel. Dexter's prose is lean, taut. Propelling this novel with a hurtling speed.
This is an exceptional novel of life in a small Southern town in the late 1940s to mid 1950s. Where blatant racists such as Paris Trout live and the townspeople practice a more subtle form of racism, looking away at injustice, and failing to face the reality of what a man like Paris Trout is capable of doing. More than one leading citizen will pay the price.
Paris Trout is not a novel for all readers. The depiction of violence and domestic abuse are horrific. It is more than some readers can handle. After all, every reader is not a prosecutor, lawyer, judge, or law enforcement officer who face these realities on almost, if not, a daily basis. But never forget. "[A] monster is only a variation, and that to a monster the norm is monstrous."
Highly recommended.
Paris Trout by Pete Dexter was chosen as a group read by members of On the Southern Literary Trail for February, 2018. This novel received the National Book Award for 1988.
“Just as there are physical monsters, can there not be mental or psychic monsters born? The face and body may be perfect, but if a twisted gene or malformed egg can produce physical monsters, may not the same process produce a malformed soul?
Monsters are variations from the accepted normal to a greater or a less degree. As a child may be born without an arm, so one may be born without kindness or the potential of conscience. A man who loses his arms in an accident has a great struggle to adjust himself to the lack, but one born without arms suffers only from people who find him strange. Having never had arms, he cannot miss them. To a monster the norm must seem monstrous, since everyone is normal to himself. To the inner monster it must be even more obscure, since he has no visible thing to compare with others. To a criminal, honesty is foolish. You must not forget that a monster is only a variation, and that to a monster the norm is monstrous. ―John Steinbeck, East of Eden, Chapter Eight (1952)
I first read Paris Trout in the Fall of 1989. I had been an Assistant District Attorney for over ten years. I had come to believe in monsters as Steinbeck described them. I came to know them. Try them for their inhumane crimes against the weak. The young, the old, the unprotected innocents of my home town and County in Alabama. It was a time I struggled to convince juries that such unspeakable acts were common place in their community. For it is natural that men and women would prefer to think that such things happen. To admit it was to acknowledge that they, too could also be savaged. In closing argument in trials of the most horrendous crimes, I often quoted what Steinbeck wrote of Cathy Ames in East of Eden.
So I was not surprised at the violence of Peter Dexter's novel. I had met Paris Trout. More than once. And I would meet him many more times before I retired from the District Attorney's Office after almost twenty-eight years to become the Director of a Domestic Violence and Sexual Assault program providing services to victims of those crimes. And I would continue to meet the Paris Trouts of my community for almost another four years when I resigned. I had had enough. I thought.
It would take two years of private practice, largely spent as the Guardian ad Litem for children in the Juvenile and Family Courts before I would throw in the towel. And even then, it was not wanting to quit, but to care for my Mother in her final illness. After her death, I chose not to return to the practice of law.
Just as the words of John Steinbeck describing the potential of human evil have remained with me, so has this novel. Paris Trout. It's message is much the same as East of Eden. Evil exists. It happens. We choose to be good and refrain from evil. Or not.
Peter Dexter brings us to the world of Ether County, Georgia, during the height of the summer's heat. There is a rabies epidemic surrounding the little county seat, Cotton Point. Although it might have been during the dog days of late summer, it is not dogs that carry the disease, but foxes. One bites twelve year old Rosie Sayers on her way home to the "Bottoms." That area that is relegated to the black members of the community. She was returning from Paris Trout's store after purchasing some .22 Caliber bullets for one of her mother's male visitors when she was bitten. She feels poisoned by the fox's bite.
But Rosie will not die of Rabies. She will not be provided enough time for us to know whether she contracted the disease. Paris Trout will kill her, shooting her multiple times, as his henchman Buddy Devonne guns down Mary McNutt whose house Trout has come to collect a debt on the sale of a rattle trap car sold to Tommy Ray who lives at the same house, but not present when Trout comes to call. He has run from the house when he sees Trout approaching.
Trout's business primarily caters to the black community. Of course, Trout does not use polite language to describe the greatest number of his customers. Trout charges them excessive prices. Charges interest on credit extended. His is an usurious practice. Not an uncommon practice. It occurred through more than one Southern state, resulting in the passage of Usury laws that capped the interest rate a money lender could charge.
But the old days have begun to change in Cotton Point, Georgia. Ward Townes, the County Solicitor, charges Paris Trout with the murder of Rosie and the attempted murder of Mary McNutt who still carries four bullets in her body following the attack on her. Dexter spins a tale of classic Southern Gothic Literature.
Harry Seagraves, one of the town's lawyers, considered among the best in his profession, will defend Paris Trout. A decision he comes to regret. For Trout is one of those clients who is every lawyer's nightmare. The client who will not listen to advice, the client who constantly reminds Counsel what he has paid for.
As Trout's trial approaches, Dexter reveals Trout's penchant for violence. Trout dominates, controls, and abuses his wife Hannah, a former school teacher. Trout in exercising his control over his wife performs an act of sexual torture upon her. The act is not for Trout's sexual gratification. Sex offenses rarely are about sex, but the exercise of power, the need to control another human being, to humiliate them, turning them into women incapable of resisting or leaving the relationship with their abuser.
Hannah Trout emerges as a complex character in Dexter's novel. She will not abide Trout's crimes further, but relentlessly pursues a divorce from him. She seeks Harry Seagrave to represent her. However, professional ethics do not allow him to take her case as he represents Trout. He refers her to a younger lawyer, Carl Bonner to handle the divorce. Bonner is also an intricate character, burdened with the reputation of having been the youngest Eagle Scout to have lived in the State of Georgia. It is a reputation that will influence his pushing Paris Trout to dangerous limits, though Seagraves cautions him that there are matters that should not be pushed to far, or too hard.
Seagraves further complicates the question of how Paris Trout is to be dealt with by becoming involved in a relationship with Hannah. She is a passionate lover loosened from her bond to Trout.
As the novel hurtles to its conclusion, Peter Dexter rachets up scene after scene of unintended consequences and mistakes by the townspeople that lead to Trout's descent into paranoia, and a desire for revenge against all those whom he thinks have betrayed him.
There can be no reasonable resolution to this novel. Dexter's prose is lean, taut. Propelling this novel with a hurtling speed.
This is an exceptional novel of life in a small Southern town in the late 1940s to mid 1950s. Where blatant racists such as Paris Trout live and the townspeople practice a more subtle form of racism, looking away at injustice, and failing to face the reality of what a man like Paris Trout is capable of doing. More than one leading citizen will pay the price.
Paris Trout is not a novel for all readers. The depiction of violence and domestic abuse are horrific. It is more than some readers can handle. After all, every reader is not a prosecutor, lawyer, judge, or law enforcement officer who face these realities on almost, if not, a daily basis. But never forget. "[A] monster is only a variation, and that to a monster the norm is monstrous."
Highly recommended.
January 31, 2012
So much better than Paris Hilton.
But not quite as good as Paris France - it would be an unfair comparison.
As for Paris Texas, yeah, better than the film, which I thought had a nice soundtrack but was a leetle bit on the wanky side, as many European-auteurs-in-America turn out to be.
I could also say - not as thrillingly weird as Trout Mask Replica.
But loads better than a trout.
Comparisons are invidious, but I thought these were pretty vidious.
But not quite as good as Paris France - it would be an unfair comparison.
As for Paris Texas, yeah, better than the film, which I thought had a nice soundtrack but was a leetle bit on the wanky side, as many European-auteurs-in-America turn out to be.
I could also say - not as thrillingly weird as Trout Mask Replica.
But loads better than a trout.
Comparisons are invidious, but I thought these were pretty vidious.
January 31, 2018
Should become a classic (hubby just now told me it was already a classic). I'm obviously way behind on this book. To say the least, I loved this book even if I have been living under a rock. Paris Trout may be one of the most hated characters in my reading experience.
Rereading for Southern Literary Trail February 2018. You know it was good when you are willing to reread 2 months later.
Rereading for Southern Literary Trail February 2018. You know it was good when you are willing to reread 2 months later.
February 2, 2018
This book was like watching a train wreck. You know there will be body parts and gore all over the tracks, but you can't look away. It's probably one of the most disturbing novels I've ever read, but I had to get to the end. Three stars for the writing, suspense and southern setting and dialogue, which the author got right, but no higher because of my intense dislike and fear of the main character. Being inside the mind of a psychopath is a scary place to be.
February 2, 2018
He is a horrible, horrible man that shoots an unarmed woman and a little girl multiple times. But because he feels outraged at a debt unpaid and because these are just colored folk - family members to the man who Paris Trout is angry with - he feels no remorse. It is 1949 in small town Georgia, and Paris fully expects to get away with murder.
When he is stunned to learn that he will be tried in court, it begins to dawn on him that the old days are gone. He is furious and now without freedom to subjugate the blacks to whom he acts as a loan shark, he begins to instead brutally abuse his wife. He is intentionally drawn as monstrous because what he represents in our country's history is beyond merely ugly.
Paris Trout's mind begins to further unravel. As the town is about to celebrate its sesquicentennial - its history - he finally realizes that the past is about to be gone. He decides to cut himself away from it.
What I've loved about Dexter's writing since first sampling it 30 years ago is his subtle irony. The little girl Rosie who is shot by Paris Trout had been bitten by a fox on her way home from buying bullets at Trout's general store. 11 out of the 70 foxes killed that summer showed that rabies was running rampant, and young Rosie feared she was 'poisoned.' Her mother gave her away because she thought the girl was poisoned too. And yet, it wasn't Rosie who went mad.
Paris Trout later avows that he is poisoned but isn't talking about that fox or even about rabies. But as he ultimately cuts himself off from the past of this little Georgia backwater, he puts to death the shambling and slobbering madness that is hatred based on race. And not a minute too soon. That Dexter got the idea for this story from a real case (he heard the shots as a boy) tells us that this book is an expose of ugliness.
Dexter says: ''This could have happened anywhere. The South has no lock on violence. In fact, South Philadelphia is more violent than the South.''
The title Paris Trout might instead have been Hatred - something to note and be wary of.
Still 5 stars and still a favorite. You have to look hard and careful with Dexter's work. So worth it!
When he is stunned to learn that he will be tried in court, it begins to dawn on him that the old days are gone. He is furious and now without freedom to subjugate the blacks to whom he acts as a loan shark, he begins to instead brutally abuse his wife. He is intentionally drawn as monstrous because what he represents in our country's history is beyond merely ugly.
Paris Trout's mind begins to further unravel. As the town is about to celebrate its sesquicentennial - its history - he finally realizes that the past is about to be gone. He decides to cut himself away from it.
What I've loved about Dexter's writing since first sampling it 30 years ago is his subtle irony. The little girl Rosie who is shot by Paris Trout had been bitten by a fox on her way home from buying bullets at Trout's general store. 11 out of the 70 foxes killed that summer showed that rabies was running rampant, and young Rosie feared she was 'poisoned.' Her mother gave her away because she thought the girl was poisoned too. And yet, it wasn't Rosie who went mad.
Paris Trout later avows that he is poisoned but isn't talking about that fox or even about rabies. But as he ultimately cuts himself off from the past of this little Georgia backwater, he puts to death the shambling and slobbering madness that is hatred based on race. And not a minute too soon. That Dexter got the idea for this story from a real case (he heard the shots as a boy) tells us that this book is an expose of ugliness.
Dexter says: ''This could have happened anywhere. The South has no lock on violence. In fact, South Philadelphia is more violent than the South.''
The title Paris Trout might instead have been Hatred - something to note and be wary of.
Still 5 stars and still a favorite. You have to look hard and careful with Dexter's work. So worth it!
August 4, 2020
[3.5] Paris Trout is a propulsive novel about a racist murderer and the complicit white citizens of his town. I read it quickly, but by the end was worn out by Paris and the other characters. There is no character I liked enough to ease my passage through the pages.
February 19, 2018
Well, this book turned out to be nothing like I had expected from the Goodreads blurb. Race plays a part in Paris Trout’s crime only in the sense that the society was cruel to its black population, which made it easier to assault a black person and walk away, but Paris Trout was much more than a racist, he was a monster and a threat to humanity in any form. I did not think that the color of skin was the determining factor for Paris. I’m not even sure it was a factor, except in freeing him from any need to curtail his wrath because of social pressures. If Henry Ray had been a poor white boy who owed him money, he would have behaved in much the same way. Paris is a racist, but the society he lives in is worse, because it purports to be kind and just, and it turns its head the other way.
While no one could deny the sick perversity of Paris Trout, the thing that tore at me was the way he was shielded by the system, even when every single person who came in contact with him: prosecutors, judges, neighbors, employees, and his defense attorney, knew him for the savage demon that he was. Several of these leading citizens knew details of his brutal treatment of his wife, Hanna, and showed as little concern for her as they had shown for Rosie Sayers, the innocent black girl he had murdered.
Who and what Paris Trout is, is established in the opening moments of this novel. Who the others are takes longer in revealing itself, and is much more important. I couldn’t help thinking of that old cliche “all that is required for evil to flourish is that good men do nothing.” But, then, when evil flourishes, it refuses to contain itself to the parameters we think we set for it. It tends to spill out over the edges like an overfilled bathtub. It tends to reach out its tentacles and touch everyone and everything. Eventually, it touches us.
Paris Trout is not an easy read, but then stories about the evils of society seldom are. You cannot tell a tale about the dangers of tolerating evil without looking at some pretty horrendous things, just as you cannot make Paris Trout a respectable businessman by putting him in a suit and tie and inviting him to the Kiwanis Club dinners.
Take a very deep breath and then read this.
While no one could deny the sick perversity of Paris Trout, the thing that tore at me was the way he was shielded by the system, even when every single person who came in contact with him: prosecutors, judges, neighbors, employees, and his defense attorney, knew him for the savage demon that he was. Several of these leading citizens knew details of his brutal treatment of his wife, Hanna, and showed as little concern for her as they had shown for Rosie Sayers, the innocent black girl he had murdered.
Who and what Paris Trout is, is established in the opening moments of this novel. Who the others are takes longer in revealing itself, and is much more important. I couldn’t help thinking of that old cliche “all that is required for evil to flourish is that good men do nothing.” But, then, when evil flourishes, it refuses to contain itself to the parameters we think we set for it. It tends to spill out over the edges like an overfilled bathtub. It tends to reach out its tentacles and touch everyone and everything. Eventually, it touches us.
Paris Trout is not an easy read, but then stories about the evils of society seldom are. You cannot tell a tale about the dangers of tolerating evil without looking at some pretty horrendous things, just as you cannot make Paris Trout a respectable businessman by putting him in a suit and tie and inviting him to the Kiwanis Club dinners.
Take a very deep breath and then read this.
September 11, 2020
Paris Trout is the most replusive character that I have ever encountered. It was difficult not to become emotionally involved in this sombering story - I wanted to shoot the s.o.b. and shove a baseball bat, barrel first, up his arse - I loved it and would highly recommend.
December 10, 2021
Humphrey Bogart once famously said “We’ll always have Paris!” Pete Dexter’s book deals with a different sort of Paris, a whole lot more disturbing than a weekend rendez vous with Ingrid Bergman. This novel also has as little to do with fishing as it does with the city on the banks of the Seine.
Although the town of Cotton Point, Georgia, claimed more than six thousand residents, not counting the asylum – which they didn’t – there was only one person there that a twenty-one-year-old colored man could see to borrow enough money to buy a car. Paris Trout.
The story, set in a small town in Georgia in 1949, a hub for collecting cotton from the surrounding plantations, has an inevitable drift towards tragedy reminding me of a classic Greek play. The opening scene presents a teenage black girl getting bitten by a rabid fox on her return trip from the grocery store of Paris Trout to her family hovel. The crazed beast that attacks an innocent child is soon revealed to be a symbolic image of the killing rage of the shop owner over a car deal gone wrong. When a young black man confronts Paris over the dirty tricks used in order to sell this Henry Ray a damaged car with fake insurance, the shop owner feels he is disrespected. Instead of going to the authorities to complain, Paris Trout goes to the black neighbourhood of Cotton Point and, in the absence of Henry Ray, shoots the young man’s mother and the little girl who was visiting [the same Rosie who was bitten by the rabid fox a few pages earlier].
Paris Trout would refuse to see it, that it was wrong to shoot a girl and a woman. There was a contract he’d made with himself a long time ago that overrode the law, and being the only interested party, he lived by it. He was principled in the truest way. His right and wrong were completely private.
This events I do not consider spoilers, since they happen in the very first chapter and set the novel in motion – an in-depth study of the prevalent mentality in the South in 1949 that is sadly as relevant today as it was in the described period and in the year the novel was published [1991]
Paris Trout may be an extreme, pathological case of deviant psychology, but the true horror of the story is the reaction of the law enforcement, of the lawyers and of the white community in Cotton Point when they hear the news of the shooting. They immediately close ranks around their peer, who they secretly despise, and try to offer an alternative narrative. The case of Amhaud Arberry from February 23, 2020 has uncanny similarities with the events and the mentality described in Pete Dexter’s novel.
“Miss Mary McNutt, in that case, shot herself ... let’s see, three times in the back?” Townes said.
“Yessir,” Trout said. “If they got shot, they did it themself. Just like if she jumped in front of a train, you don’t fix the blame on the engineer. There is a set of rules that was here before any of us, and there’s no man can hold another to account for the consequences when somebody breaks them. If it wasn’t dangerous to break the rules, there wouldn’t be no reason to have them.”
The set of rules Paris Trout refers to are the unwritten ones that led to the creation of the Ku Klux Klan. Another disturbing reflection caused by the unfolding murder trial of Paris Trout is the unmasking of a judicial system skewed against the minorities. A second instance of brutal abuse, this time directed at Paris Trout’s wife Hanna, extends the debate from the skin colour to the sex of the victim. Instead of condemning the bully, society would rather accuse the victim of lying and pretend she has a wild imagination. Many of the citizens of Cotton Point are secretly in agreement with Paris Trout and his personal code of justice, if not with his methods, recognizing this gun-loving, tax-dodging, openly racist curmudgeon as one of their own. A mention of the rise to power of Trumpism and of all the roaches that crawled out of the dark places to openly embrace his divisive rhetoric seems also appropriate at this point.
“They ought to make him governor of Georgia.”
“Who?”
Her finger went back to the story. “Whatshisname in the paper. My daddy said they ought run him for governor, and he would collect every vote in Ether County.”
This is a bleak story, with few redeeming qualities, probably the most depressing I’ve read this year of five star quality. Very few people are ready to confront Paris Trout openly [his wife Hanna, his suddenly remorseful lawyer Harry Seagraves, the young and idealistic divorce lawyer Carl Bonner], but they are enough to offer me a single ray of hope in this dismal setting. Hanna makes an appeal to integrity, but Seagraves claims we must comply with society’s expectations of us. Unfortunately, Seagraves uses this argument to justify his defending of Paris Trout in court, despite knowing for certain that the man is guilty.
“We’re all only one person,” she said. “You can’t separate what you do one place from another.”
“I have to,” he said. “I’m a lawyer.”
The final question, one that I struggle to articulate without giving out spoilers, is how you stop a man like Paris Trout from his vigilante form of justice, and how you open the eyes of his neighbours to the danger he represents. There are no easy answers, and unfortunately people like Paris Trout feel emboldened today to display their racism as a flag of pride, putting a deviant personality on a pedestal.
“Ordinary people might consider things in the abstract, but bad intentions aren’t what being crazy is about. Even if we’re all on the same road, Paris Trout doesn’t have any brakes.”
I would say this novel should be required reading for a class on ethics and responsibility.
August 8, 2022
Southern Gothic at its best. This is a gritty, uncomfortable and excellent book. The title character is evil and is a piranha rather than a nice trout.
The story takes place in small-town Georgia in the 1940s after World War II. The author, Pete Dexter, wrote the dialog with a southern drawl. In other works this sometimes makes characters seem like hicks or ignorant but there are few characters here that are stupid. Especially the black citizens. Their carefully crafted words are masterpieces in the art of not getting lynched. The poor 14-year old black girl, Rosie, whose murder is the catalyst of the plot, has not yet mastered how to stay out of the way of her white male "superiors". She pays the price. She is only alive during the first pages but Dexter draws her as a clever, kind-hearted person. I missed her when she was gone.
Paris Trout was the white man who shot Rosie multiple times and killed her. He might be the most evil character I've ever met in a fiction book. There is no mystery here. He admitted up front that he shot Rosie. He was confident he'd be acquitted in his racist town. Trout's lawyer, Harry Seagraves, and Mrs. Trout rounded out the main trio of fascinating characters.
I don't have the words to express how smart and unique this book is. The plot synopsis as I write it seems formulaic. Believe me, it's not. And it's not for the faint of heart. Winner of the National Book Award.
The story takes place in small-town Georgia in the 1940s after World War II. The author, Pete Dexter, wrote the dialog with a southern drawl. In other works this sometimes makes characters seem like hicks or ignorant but there are few characters here that are stupid. Especially the black citizens. Their carefully crafted words are masterpieces in the art of not getting lynched. The poor 14-year old black girl, Rosie, whose murder is the catalyst of the plot, has not yet mastered how to stay out of the way of her white male "superiors". She pays the price. She is only alive during the first pages but Dexter draws her as a clever, kind-hearted person. I missed her when she was gone.
Paris Trout was the white man who shot Rosie multiple times and killed her. He might be the most evil character I've ever met in a fiction book. There is no mystery here. He admitted up front that he shot Rosie. He was confident he'd be acquitted in his racist town. Trout's lawyer, Harry Seagraves, and Mrs. Trout rounded out the main trio of fascinating characters.
I don't have the words to express how smart and unique this book is. The plot synopsis as I write it seems formulaic. Believe me, it's not. And it's not for the faint of heart. Winner of the National Book Award.
September 25, 2009
Pete Dexter does such a good job of describing Paris Trout and his yellow teeth, piss smell and even more disgusting behavior that I just wanted to be done with the book because Paris Trout repelled me. I still don't want to touch the book, which is why I have to give it three stars. Basically, he's such a good storyteller, that I have to dock a star because the story is so disturbing. Makes no sense, I know.
Dexter knows how to write to keep you from putting the book down even when you don't want to know anymore because you hate all the characters who can't rise above thinking of themselves to do one right thing in their lives. The story is dark - a tale set in the middle of the 20th Century, Dexter never really tells us when. It's a time when blacks live on one side of town in squalor and the whites don't associate with them. When a little black girl is murdered by local businessman Trout - a man unlikable even by his white neighbors who acts as a sort of Cash and Go for the black side of town - the prosecutor and cops are almost more concerned with ruffling Trout's feathers by putting him through a trial than pursuing justice.
There is no justice in this story, not even hope. Not because it's not possible, but because these characters are too entrenched in the way things are, maybe like much of the South in some period of time. Dexter's story, which is told through Trout's battered wife, Trout's lawyer and Trout, is as much about the complicity of the town denying justice because they don't want to shake things up.
We want to think that there are always heros, people who not only know right from wrong, but are willing to stand up for it even if it means pissing off the neighbors and making their own lives more difficult, but Dexter doesn't give us one in this story. In fact, the one guy that seems like he might try to do right, is too young and naive for the reader to believe he can do any good.
As for Trout, there's no good to him, Dexter makes clear throughout the book. Trout is in some ways a throw-away character - pure evil, there's no complexity to him.
Overall, I hated the book because I hated the story. These characters are not likable or even pitiable. But they are believable, and maybe that's why I hate it all the more.
Dexter knows how to write to keep you from putting the book down even when you don't want to know anymore because you hate all the characters who can't rise above thinking of themselves to do one right thing in their lives. The story is dark - a tale set in the middle of the 20th Century, Dexter never really tells us when. It's a time when blacks live on one side of town in squalor and the whites don't associate with them. When a little black girl is murdered by local businessman Trout - a man unlikable even by his white neighbors who acts as a sort of Cash and Go for the black side of town - the prosecutor and cops are almost more concerned with ruffling Trout's feathers by putting him through a trial than pursuing justice.
There is no justice in this story, not even hope. Not because it's not possible, but because these characters are too entrenched in the way things are, maybe like much of the South in some period of time. Dexter's story, which is told through Trout's battered wife, Trout's lawyer and Trout, is as much about the complicity of the town denying justice because they don't want to shake things up.
We want to think that there are always heros, people who not only know right from wrong, but are willing to stand up for it even if it means pissing off the neighbors and making their own lives more difficult, but Dexter doesn't give us one in this story. In fact, the one guy that seems like he might try to do right, is too young and naive for the reader to believe he can do any good.
As for Trout, there's no good to him, Dexter makes clear throughout the book. Trout is in some ways a throw-away character - pure evil, there's no complexity to him.
Overall, I hated the book because I hated the story. These characters are not likable or even pitiable. But they are believable, and maybe that's why I hate it all the more.
October 5, 2024
Questo romanzo non regala né speranza né amore, né giustizia né riscatto: il suo protagonista, Paris Trout, è un americano bianco della Georgia (USA), un uomo economicamente agiato che porta avanti un drugstore in cui pratica l’usura sui prestiti e sulle vendite a credito, che crede solo in se stesso e nella sua legge personale, un esplicito esempio di white anglo-saxon protestant (WASP) che si fa giustizia da solo se pensa di essere stato in qualche modo offeso, dispotico e autoritario e se ammazza a colpi di pistola una innocente ragazzina nera non sente alcuno scrupolo di coscienza e non si fa capace “dell’ingiustizia” di dover sottostare a un processo per omicidio perché lui “ha solo sparato a una ragazzina nera”. In realtà in questo racconto nessuno è del tutto innocente e “pulito” e se Paris Trout rappresenta la parte più bieca di quella parte della società americana eternamente razzista e conservatrice, anche gli altri personaggi bianchi del romanzo che ruotano attorno al protagonista, detestandolo o odiandolo, fingendogli lealtà o difendendolo, come la bella moglie esasperata dalla durezza del marito o l'amico avvocato che lo difende in tribunale, il giudice e i poliziotti, nessuno brilla per correttezza, moralità ed etica. Un romanzo “difficile” che lascia l’amaro in bocca e una pena infinita.
August 25, 2008
In so many cases of Good vs. Evil, Evil is more interesting. Authors often like the challenge, it seems, of opening our eyes to the reasons Evil does what it does. We may come away with an understanding that fits our theories of human nature. Evil's thought processes, when explained, may ring true, and bad behavior may be driven by unfortunate circumstances as much as anything else. Depending on the degree of the depravity, we may even apply the familiar "There but for the grace of God" line. Well Paris Trout is not such a case. With this one it's more like: "There but for the fact that I'm not a nasty, racist sociopath..." Even the omniscient narrator is loathe to figure him out, and maybe that's for the best.
Paris Trout is the bad guy. He kills a 14 year-old black girl in Georgia, provoked by little more than his own cold blood. The town's reaction to it all is what proves to be interesting. As more is revealed, there's less to like. Even his lawyer, the best drawn character in the book, would agree.
Dexter also wrote Deadwood (made famous later by HBO) and the screenplay for Mulholland Falls. Any pattern of bleakness may be tied to an event in the early 80's when he was working at the Philadelphia Daily News. According to Wikipedia, he was beaten by an angry, drunken mob with baseball bats in reaction to a column he wrote. I felt some of that in this book.
Paris Trout is the bad guy. He kills a 14 year-old black girl in Georgia, provoked by little more than his own cold blood. The town's reaction to it all is what proves to be interesting. As more is revealed, there's less to like. Even his lawyer, the best drawn character in the book, would agree.
Dexter also wrote Deadwood (made famous later by HBO) and the screenplay for Mulholland Falls. Any pattern of bleakness may be tied to an event in the early 80's when he was working at the Philadelphia Daily News. According to Wikipedia, he was beaten by an angry, drunken mob with baseball bats in reaction to a column he wrote. I felt some of that in this book.
February 24, 2018
In Pete Dexter's award-winning tour de force set in the fictional Cotton Point, Georgia, Paris Trout, an unapologetic racist, commits a violent act at the novel's beginning. The remainder of the novel presents how this single act impacts the town and Trout himself.
The novel is divided in nine sections changing character's perspectives in each one. The primary characters in this novel are developed well, portraying each one's strengths and weaknesses. The setting was described so well that you could easily imagine the small post-WW II town. The plot never bogged down progressively moving the reader along to the climatic ending. The author's depiction of Trout's paranoia were tragically comic. The reader should be warned that some of the acts of violence are so descriptive that you can't help cringing when you read them. This novel was translated into a movie starring Dennis Hopper, Ed Harris and Barbara Hersey. I will need to watch it and see how close my imagination is to the novel.
The novel is divided in nine sections changing character's perspectives in each one. The primary characters in this novel are developed well, portraying each one's strengths and weaknesses. The setting was described so well that you could easily imagine the small post-WW II town. The plot never bogged down progressively moving the reader along to the climatic ending. The author's depiction of Trout's paranoia were tragically comic. The reader should be warned that some of the acts of violence are so descriptive that you can't help cringing when you read them. This novel was translated into a movie starring Dennis Hopper, Ed Harris and Barbara Hersey. I will need to watch it and see how close my imagination is to the novel.
April 9, 2019
”You’ve been saved,” Miss Mary said. “And I am here with you now to wait for Jesus.”
“I’m so cold,” the child said.
She said, “Jesus will be here soon, to cover you with a blanket.”
Paris Trout by Pete Dexter won the National Book Award in 1988. Upon reading I can say it is worthy of the accolades.
This is a very well written and engrossing novel about an influential and white businessman who goes to trial for murdering an African-American teenage girl in a Georgia town in the 1950’s. One stylistic approach that made this book better was that there were perspectives from many characters including the killers, the victims, the attorneys and so forth. This and the fact that the central character is a real S.O.B.
Paris Trout was written seven years prior to that other famous novel about an influential Georgia town leader accused of murder and subsequently embroiled in a trial — that book is Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. There are a lot of similarities between the two and, although the writing styles are different, I liked them equally. Paris Trout was written more like a legal thriller while MITGOGAE contains a little more humor and mystery mixed with a more lyrical writing style.
Five stars. A story with a tightly constructed narrative and a fast read.
“I’m so cold,” the child said.
She said, “Jesus will be here soon, to cover you with a blanket.”
Paris Trout by Pete Dexter won the National Book Award in 1988. Upon reading I can say it is worthy of the accolades.
This is a very well written and engrossing novel about an influential and white businessman who goes to trial for murdering an African-American teenage girl in a Georgia town in the 1950’s. One stylistic approach that made this book better was that there were perspectives from many characters including the killers, the victims, the attorneys and so forth. This and the fact that the central character is a real S.O.B.
Paris Trout was written seven years prior to that other famous novel about an influential Georgia town leader accused of murder and subsequently embroiled in a trial — that book is Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. There are a lot of similarities between the two and, although the writing styles are different, I liked them equally. Paris Trout was written more like a legal thriller while MITGOGAE contains a little more humor and mystery mixed with a more lyrical writing style.
Five stars. A story with a tightly constructed narrative and a fast read.
February 23, 2015
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 11, 2018
Hmm, this National Book Award winner written in 1988 and the movie made from it (starring Dennis Hopper) seem to be mostly forgotten and I understand why!! It's a character study filled with highly unlikeable and uninteresting folks, namely Paris Trout who manages to commit the racially charged murder of a child without ever letting the reader in on why... beyond the fact that he's just plain unraveling into craziness.
This happens early on and whatever happens from there, including the fact that he goes largely unpunished, seems the people of Cotton Point aren't really that concerned. Well, I didn't much care what happened either, though in the end all the flat uninteresting characters here get pretty much what they deserve, just not nearly soon enough... made 304 pages seem to meander forever. I've never been a fan of write your own ending books. I know it's a style, but this book was so vague, it felt like write your own book.
OTSLT Club Feb 2018- 2 stars
This happens early on and whatever happens from there, including the fact that he goes largely unpunished, seems the people of Cotton Point aren't really that concerned. Well, I didn't much care what happened either, though in the end all the flat uninteresting characters here get pretty much what they deserve, just not nearly soon enough... made 304 pages seem to meander forever. I've never been a fan of write your own ending books. I know it's a style, but this book was so vague, it felt like write your own book.
OTSLT Club Feb 2018- 2 stars
December 30, 2019
There are only a few things I will tell you about this book. I don't want to spoil it for you. 1. It is a psychological thriller about a shocking crime. 2. I was unable to put it down once I started it. 3. Fasten your seatbelt, and keep a baseball bat close. 4. Pete Dexter is outstanding.
February 14, 2018
Not a predictable novel and I like that. Not a novel of neat and precise outcomes, and I like that too. Not a novel where you can be sure of anything, except that Paris Trout – surly smalltown Georgia storekeeper and money-lender with “a screaming look in his eyes” – is not going to be a man to cross. “’You just ask...’ Mr Trout yelled. ‘You ask what happens if you don’t pay Mr Trout.’”
We find out what happens soon enough. “’Paris Trout gone took a damn gun and shot two coloured women.’”And in this segregated 1950s backwater, we might well expect a conventional portrait of racial bigotry, all-white juries, and well-meaning lawyers trying to make a difference. But we’ve seen that before and thankfully, that’s not what Pete Dexter gives us. The racism is endemic, but Paris Trout really doesn’t care about skin colour or status. He just wants to have things his way. It's all the same to him. So at the novel’s core is a rabid individual who pursues his own mad path through the town, its citizens, its lawyers, its legal system, and the book itself. Everyone knows Mr Trout bites and no one is willing to get in his way. You take the easy options, and nothing good happens.
Crisply written with complex, equivocal characters and no pat answers. Who could ask for anything more?
We find out what happens soon enough. “’Paris Trout gone took a damn gun and shot two coloured women.’”And in this segregated 1950s backwater, we might well expect a conventional portrait of racial bigotry, all-white juries, and well-meaning lawyers trying to make a difference. But we’ve seen that before and thankfully, that’s not what Pete Dexter gives us. The racism is endemic, but Paris Trout really doesn’t care about skin colour or status. He just wants to have things his way. It's all the same to him. So at the novel’s core is a rabid individual who pursues his own mad path through the town, its citizens, its lawyers, its legal system, and the book itself. Everyone knows Mr Trout bites and no one is willing to get in his way. You take the easy options, and nothing good happens.
Crisply written with complex, equivocal characters and no pat answers. Who could ask for anything more?
November 6, 2007
I like Pete Dexter. I do. But I don't think he'd like me. I don't know if likes people in general, and, given that he was once near-fatally pummeled by a bat-wielding mob of them, why should he?
This is a well-written account of people treating each other abominably. Is it cruelty for cruelty's sake, or is there something more substantial to take away from it? Let me know if you find anything. Dexter's prose especially takes flight during the sequences when the title character is sexually humiliating his long-suffering wife. That seems telling. He got the National Book Award for this novel. Also telling. Conclusion: People are violent perverts. Thanks for the news flash, Pete! Thanks for backing him up, National Book Award voters!
But then it's easy to dismiss such content as porn in disguise, and I feel I'm probably missing something. As I said, this is good writing, intent be damned. At no point was I bored, and it won't deter me from trying another of his works of fiction. I was introduced to Dexter's style through "Paper Trails", a compilation of some of his old newspaper columns, and I would recommend that fine collection before "Paris Trout".
This is a well-written account of people treating each other abominably. Is it cruelty for cruelty's sake, or is there something more substantial to take away from it? Let me know if you find anything. Dexter's prose especially takes flight during the sequences when the title character is sexually humiliating his long-suffering wife. That seems telling. He got the National Book Award for this novel. Also telling. Conclusion: People are violent perverts. Thanks for the news flash, Pete! Thanks for backing him up, National Book Award voters!
But then it's easy to dismiss such content as porn in disguise, and I feel I'm probably missing something. As I said, this is good writing, intent be damned. At no point was I bored, and it won't deter me from trying another of his works of fiction. I was introduced to Dexter's style through "Paper Trails", a compilation of some of his old newspaper columns, and I would recommend that fine collection before "Paris Trout".
January 15, 2021
PARIS TROUT (1988; Dt. 2008) ist ein trauriges Buch. Traurig und bitter. Es beginnt mit dem Biss eines Fuchses in den Knöchel eines schwarzen Mädchens und endet mit dem sinnlosen Töten dreier Menschen. Dazwischen wird der Leser Zeuge eines leisen Südstaatendramas, das sich aus alltäglichem Rassismus, Menschenfeindlichkeit, Egomanie und Desinteresse, bzw. Ignoranz speist. Man bleibt zurück mit einem gewaltigen Kloß im Hals, der sich nur langsam wieder lockert.
In der Kleinstadt Cotton Point lebt Mitte der 50er Jahre die schwarze Gemeinde leidlich friedlich abseits der weißen. Es gibt wenig Berührungspunkte untereinander, die Schwarzen arbeiten für die Weißen, so scheint das immer schon gewesen zu sein. Die pubertierende Rosie Sayers wird von einem wohl tollwütigen Fuchs gebissen, will dies jedoch vor ihrer Mutter unbedingt geheim halten, da ihre Mutter sie nicht mag und Rosie Angst hat, fortgeschickt zu werden. Sie kommt blutend in den Laden von Paris Trout, einem örtlichen Gemischtwarenhändler, der darüber hinaus auch ein florierendes Geschäft mit Darlehen v.a. an mittellose Schwarze betreibt. Seine Frau Hanna sieht, daß die Kleine verletzt ist und bringt sie in ein Krankenhaus, in dem der diensttuende Arzt Rosie derart Angst vor einer Spritze macht, daß diese angibt, es sei doch kein Fuchs, sondern ein Hund gewesen. Damit setzt sich eine Soirale von Ereignissen in Gang, die schließlich in eine Katastrophe für nahezu alle Beteiligten führen.
Die Erzählung der äußeren Handlung des Buches kann nicht wiedergeben, wie gewaltig das Gesellschaftsportrait, das Dexter anlegt. Dieser Paris Trout ist eines der unglaublichsten (menschlichen) Monster der jüngeren Literaturgeschichte. Es ist weniger Rassismus, der ihn ausmacht, dazu ist er viel zu misantroph. Der Rassismus ist es, der die Gesellschaft durchzieht – u.a. gibt es einen Richter, der den Gerichtssaal morgens mit den Worten betritt: „Alle Neger mit Anwalt auf die eine Seite, die Neger ohne Anwalt auf die andere.“ – und schleichend vergiftet. Durch diesen alltäglichen, immer vorhandenen Rassismus werden Figuren wie Trout, aber auch so manch anderer, der uns in diesem Buch begegnet, überhaupt erst ermöglicht.
Im Laufe der Handlung wird Rosie Sayers von allen vergessen, sie wird zu einem Alb, der den einen oder anderen verfolgt, doch wünschen sich selbst diejenigen, die wir mögen wollen, bspw. die Anwälte Seagraves und Bonner, daß dies alles gar nicht passiert wäre und sie einfach weitermachen könnten, wie bisher. Nur Hanna, ehemalige Lehrerin und aus Gründen mit Paris Trout verheiratet, die sie mit der einsetzenden Handlung selbst längst nicht mehr versteht, hasst Trout für das, was er tut und getan hat. Trout selbst wankt durch die Handlung wie eine Art somnambuler Koloß. Er nimmt schlichtweg nicht wahr, was ihm nicht gefällt, sieht „gewisse Gesetze“ höher an als alle von Menschen gemachte. Darunter fällt für ihn, ohne daß es je explizit erwähnt würde, daß ein Mann sich – vor allem von Schwarzen – holen kann, was ihm seiner Meinung nach zusteht, also Geld; zudem scheinen Schwarze für ihn in einer natürlichen Ordnung unter den Weißen zu stehen, womit er in dieser Gesellschaft allerdings nicht allein ist. So verhält er sich jedem gegenüber, ob Polizist, Anwalt oder Richter: Er versteht schlichtweg nicht (oder will nicht verstehen), was er falsch gemacht haben sollte. Er wollte Geld von einer schwarzen Familie, weil sich deren Sohnemann dieses bei ihm geliehen hat. Das genügt aus seiner Sicht der Dinge auch, eine Familie auszulöschen.
Dexters Verdienst liegt darin, diese Figur – neben all den anderen – durch eine Lakonie in der Erzählsprache zu verdeutlichen und dadurch glaubwürdig zu machen, die es in sich hat und den Leser wirklich trifft. Selbst die traurigsten und schrecklichsten Gegebenheiten (und das fängt mit Rosies Mutter an, die ihrer 14jährigen Tochter nicht mehr erlaubt, das Haus zu betreten, da diese des Teufels sei) werden mit einer Beiläufigkeit geschildert, die dem Leser während der Lektüre schon mal Schauer den Rücken hinunter jagt. Ein weiteres Verdienst ist es, daß diese Gesellschaft nicht einfach nur als verkommen und rassistisch dargestellt wird. Dexter zeigt die Bigotterie, die Verklemmtheit und auch die Verlogenheit, die dem Rassismus vorausgehen, ihn bedingen, ihn flankieren und erst ermöglichen. Er läßt auch die, die uns als Sympathieträger erscheinen, nicht im reinen weißen Licht erstrahlen, ganz im Gegenteil, sie sind Teil dieser Stadt, die jemanden wie Paris Trout hervorbringt und in ihrer Mitte duldet. Und natürlich auch an ihm verdient.
Hinzu kommt – ein weiterer Aspekt der Rassendifferenzen – , daß nicht nur zwischen Schwarzen und Weißen, sondern auch zwischen den Weißen selbst eine abgrundtiefe Sprachlosigkeit herrscht. Doch elementar wird sie erst zwischen Angehörigen der verschiedenen Hautfarben. Denn der eigentliche Konflikt – sowohl zwischen Rosie und ihrer Mutter, als auch und vor allem zwischen Paris Trout und seinen Widersachern – verschärft sich durch die anhaltende Sprachlosigkeit zwischen allen Betroffenen. Der junge Henry Ray, der bei Trout Geld für ein Auto geliehen und eine Versicherung abgeschlossen hat, versteht schlichtweg nicht, was es mit dieser Versicherung auf sich hat. Paris Trout wiederum ist es egal. Er sagt nur, daß er – so oder so – sein Geld bekomme. Trout ist ein gewaltiger Schweiger, oftmals antwortet er nicht auf Fragen, die für den Fragenden, wie z.B. seine Geschäftsangestellte, sehr wichtig sein könnten.
Der Anwalt Harry Seagraves ist dabei die – auch literarisch – interessanteste Figur. Dexter gelingt es hier, auch sprachlich, eine Vulgärversion einer der wichtigen Figuren der amerikanischen Literatur des 20. Jahrhunderts zu erschaffen: Gavin Stevens, der weise, manchmal resignativ-müde Anwalt, den William Faulkner immer wieder als eine Art Alter Ego in seinen Romanen, den Short Stories und den Novellen, manchmal als Mittelpunkt und Hauptfigur, manchmal nur am Rande, auftreten läßt und der die Gesellschaft, in der er lebt, versteht und auch toleriert. Selbst da, wo sie rassistisch ist. Stevens ist – wie sein Erschaffer Faulkner – der Meinung, daß der Süden sich aus sich selbst heraus vom Joch dessen, was ihn vergiftet und zerstört, also der Rassenungleichheit, befreien muß. Er muß selbst einsehen, daß es ein Unrecht gibt und dieses Unrecht zu besiegen ist. Aus diesem Grunde lehnte Faulkner den Bürgerkrieg als „Rettung der Nation und Befreiung vom Joch der Sklaverei“ ab. So, meinte er, sei es nicht möglich, eine Gesellschaft von ihren Krankheiten zu befreien.
Harry Seagraves ist nicht ganz so hochtrabend wie Gavin Stevens, er ist aber auch nicht so intellektuell scharfsinnig wie Faulkners Gestalt. Und er ist, anders als Stevens, der Junggeselle und Hagestolz, ein durch und durch sexualisiertes Wesen. Jede Frau, der er begegnet, wird auf ihre sexuellen Attribute hin geprüft, während seine eigene Frau in der Handlung des Romans nur als Heimchen vorkommt. Generell sind die Frauen hier (nicht bei Dexter, sondern in Cotton Point) ebenso Personen zweiter Klasse, wie die Schwarzen, vielleicht nicht ganz so zweitklassig. Sie werden nicht ernst genommen, und wenn sie Personen eigenen Rechts und eigener Meinung sind (wie Hanna und die junge Dame, die Bonner geheiratet hat und die sich weder an gesellschaftliche Konventionen, noch an die innerstädtischen Gepflogenheiten halten will), dann erscheinen sie auch den „aufgeklärten“ Männern gefährlich (das geht soweit, daß Bonner seine Frau schließlich verdächtigt, mit anderen Männern umtriebig zu sein).
Es ist also vor allem eine Männergesellschaft, die Dexter darstellt, in der die Bigotterie, daraus resultierend der Rassismus und die Menschenverachtung, derart weit fortgeschritten sind (und darin besteht natürlich auch eine implizite Kritik an den Ansichten Faulkners und all jener, die Faulkners Meinung teilen), daß die Menschen, die all dem tagtäglich frönen und ausgesetzt sind, gar nicht mehr merken, wie es sie langsam zerstört. Der Einzige, der das Gift (wenn auch anders, als gedacht) ahnt, ist ironischerweise Paris Trout selbst, der seine Frau immer im Verdacht hatte, ihn zu vergiften. Sein Wahn, den Dexter fein, weil nie übertrieben, darstellt, artet schließlich darin aus, Flaschen mit seinem Urin zu sammeln, damit im Falle seines Ablebens bewiesen werden kann, daß er Opfer einer Vergiftung wurde.
Pete Dexter ist mit PARIS TROUT vielleicht sein bisher bester Roman gelungen. Er ist, nach den Stadtvierteln in GOD`S POCKET (1983/Dt. 2008), die durch ethnische und rassische Grenzen gekennzeichnet waren, und jenem Los Angeles, in dem TRAIN (2003/Dt. 2006) spielt und wo der Rassenkampf einem Klassenkampf gleichkam, dort angelangt, wo – zumindest in den USA – der Rassismus seine Wiege hat: Im tiefen Süden. Das ist der geographische Aspekt. Er ist hier auch sprachlich reduzierter bei seinen (möglichen) Vorbildern angekommen, Vorbildern wie eben William Faulkner. Und er tut dem Leser, der Gesellschaft generell, weh mit diesem Buch. Es tut weh, das zu lesen und es tut weh, zu wissen, daß dies zwar in den 50er Jahren angesiedelt, allerdings nie sehr weit entfernt ist von der (traurigen) Gegenwart.
Vielleicht war Pete Dexter bis dahin „nur“ ein guter Krimi- und Noir-Autor (wobei dies immer auch gute Literatur war, die sehr viel über diese Gesellschaft verriet), mit seinem erst dritten Roman PARIS TROUT legt er ein erschütterndes literarisches Gesellschaftsportrait vor. Und das ist dann eben wirklich große Literatur!
In der Kleinstadt Cotton Point lebt Mitte der 50er Jahre die schwarze Gemeinde leidlich friedlich abseits der weißen. Es gibt wenig Berührungspunkte untereinander, die Schwarzen arbeiten für die Weißen, so scheint das immer schon gewesen zu sein. Die pubertierende Rosie Sayers wird von einem wohl tollwütigen Fuchs gebissen, will dies jedoch vor ihrer Mutter unbedingt geheim halten, da ihre Mutter sie nicht mag und Rosie Angst hat, fortgeschickt zu werden. Sie kommt blutend in den Laden von Paris Trout, einem örtlichen Gemischtwarenhändler, der darüber hinaus auch ein florierendes Geschäft mit Darlehen v.a. an mittellose Schwarze betreibt. Seine Frau Hanna sieht, daß die Kleine verletzt ist und bringt sie in ein Krankenhaus, in dem der diensttuende Arzt Rosie derart Angst vor einer Spritze macht, daß diese angibt, es sei doch kein Fuchs, sondern ein Hund gewesen. Damit setzt sich eine Soirale von Ereignissen in Gang, die schließlich in eine Katastrophe für nahezu alle Beteiligten führen.
Die Erzählung der äußeren Handlung des Buches kann nicht wiedergeben, wie gewaltig das Gesellschaftsportrait, das Dexter anlegt. Dieser Paris Trout ist eines der unglaublichsten (menschlichen) Monster der jüngeren Literaturgeschichte. Es ist weniger Rassismus, der ihn ausmacht, dazu ist er viel zu misantroph. Der Rassismus ist es, der die Gesellschaft durchzieht – u.a. gibt es einen Richter, der den Gerichtssaal morgens mit den Worten betritt: „Alle Neger mit Anwalt auf die eine Seite, die Neger ohne Anwalt auf die andere.“ – und schleichend vergiftet. Durch diesen alltäglichen, immer vorhandenen Rassismus werden Figuren wie Trout, aber auch so manch anderer, der uns in diesem Buch begegnet, überhaupt erst ermöglicht.
Im Laufe der Handlung wird Rosie Sayers von allen vergessen, sie wird zu einem Alb, der den einen oder anderen verfolgt, doch wünschen sich selbst diejenigen, die wir mögen wollen, bspw. die Anwälte Seagraves und Bonner, daß dies alles gar nicht passiert wäre und sie einfach weitermachen könnten, wie bisher. Nur Hanna, ehemalige Lehrerin und aus Gründen mit Paris Trout verheiratet, die sie mit der einsetzenden Handlung selbst längst nicht mehr versteht, hasst Trout für das, was er tut und getan hat. Trout selbst wankt durch die Handlung wie eine Art somnambuler Koloß. Er nimmt schlichtweg nicht wahr, was ihm nicht gefällt, sieht „gewisse Gesetze“ höher an als alle von Menschen gemachte. Darunter fällt für ihn, ohne daß es je explizit erwähnt würde, daß ein Mann sich – vor allem von Schwarzen – holen kann, was ihm seiner Meinung nach zusteht, also Geld; zudem scheinen Schwarze für ihn in einer natürlichen Ordnung unter den Weißen zu stehen, womit er in dieser Gesellschaft allerdings nicht allein ist. So verhält er sich jedem gegenüber, ob Polizist, Anwalt oder Richter: Er versteht schlichtweg nicht (oder will nicht verstehen), was er falsch gemacht haben sollte. Er wollte Geld von einer schwarzen Familie, weil sich deren Sohnemann dieses bei ihm geliehen hat. Das genügt aus seiner Sicht der Dinge auch, eine Familie auszulöschen.
Dexters Verdienst liegt darin, diese Figur – neben all den anderen – durch eine Lakonie in der Erzählsprache zu verdeutlichen und dadurch glaubwürdig zu machen, die es in sich hat und den Leser wirklich trifft. Selbst die traurigsten und schrecklichsten Gegebenheiten (und das fängt mit Rosies Mutter an, die ihrer 14jährigen Tochter nicht mehr erlaubt, das Haus zu betreten, da diese des Teufels sei) werden mit einer Beiläufigkeit geschildert, die dem Leser während der Lektüre schon mal Schauer den Rücken hinunter jagt. Ein weiteres Verdienst ist es, daß diese Gesellschaft nicht einfach nur als verkommen und rassistisch dargestellt wird. Dexter zeigt die Bigotterie, die Verklemmtheit und auch die Verlogenheit, die dem Rassismus vorausgehen, ihn bedingen, ihn flankieren und erst ermöglichen. Er läßt auch die, die uns als Sympathieträger erscheinen, nicht im reinen weißen Licht erstrahlen, ganz im Gegenteil, sie sind Teil dieser Stadt, die jemanden wie Paris Trout hervorbringt und in ihrer Mitte duldet. Und natürlich auch an ihm verdient.
Hinzu kommt – ein weiterer Aspekt der Rassendifferenzen – , daß nicht nur zwischen Schwarzen und Weißen, sondern auch zwischen den Weißen selbst eine abgrundtiefe Sprachlosigkeit herrscht. Doch elementar wird sie erst zwischen Angehörigen der verschiedenen Hautfarben. Denn der eigentliche Konflikt – sowohl zwischen Rosie und ihrer Mutter, als auch und vor allem zwischen Paris Trout und seinen Widersachern – verschärft sich durch die anhaltende Sprachlosigkeit zwischen allen Betroffenen. Der junge Henry Ray, der bei Trout Geld für ein Auto geliehen und eine Versicherung abgeschlossen hat, versteht schlichtweg nicht, was es mit dieser Versicherung auf sich hat. Paris Trout wiederum ist es egal. Er sagt nur, daß er – so oder so – sein Geld bekomme. Trout ist ein gewaltiger Schweiger, oftmals antwortet er nicht auf Fragen, die für den Fragenden, wie z.B. seine Geschäftsangestellte, sehr wichtig sein könnten.
Der Anwalt Harry Seagraves ist dabei die – auch literarisch – interessanteste Figur. Dexter gelingt es hier, auch sprachlich, eine Vulgärversion einer der wichtigen Figuren der amerikanischen Literatur des 20. Jahrhunderts zu erschaffen: Gavin Stevens, der weise, manchmal resignativ-müde Anwalt, den William Faulkner immer wieder als eine Art Alter Ego in seinen Romanen, den Short Stories und den Novellen, manchmal als Mittelpunkt und Hauptfigur, manchmal nur am Rande, auftreten läßt und der die Gesellschaft, in der er lebt, versteht und auch toleriert. Selbst da, wo sie rassistisch ist. Stevens ist – wie sein Erschaffer Faulkner – der Meinung, daß der Süden sich aus sich selbst heraus vom Joch dessen, was ihn vergiftet und zerstört, also der Rassenungleichheit, befreien muß. Er muß selbst einsehen, daß es ein Unrecht gibt und dieses Unrecht zu besiegen ist. Aus diesem Grunde lehnte Faulkner den Bürgerkrieg als „Rettung der Nation und Befreiung vom Joch der Sklaverei“ ab. So, meinte er, sei es nicht möglich, eine Gesellschaft von ihren Krankheiten zu befreien.
Harry Seagraves ist nicht ganz so hochtrabend wie Gavin Stevens, er ist aber auch nicht so intellektuell scharfsinnig wie Faulkners Gestalt. Und er ist, anders als Stevens, der Junggeselle und Hagestolz, ein durch und durch sexualisiertes Wesen. Jede Frau, der er begegnet, wird auf ihre sexuellen Attribute hin geprüft, während seine eigene Frau in der Handlung des Romans nur als Heimchen vorkommt. Generell sind die Frauen hier (nicht bei Dexter, sondern in Cotton Point) ebenso Personen zweiter Klasse, wie die Schwarzen, vielleicht nicht ganz so zweitklassig. Sie werden nicht ernst genommen, und wenn sie Personen eigenen Rechts und eigener Meinung sind (wie Hanna und die junge Dame, die Bonner geheiratet hat und die sich weder an gesellschaftliche Konventionen, noch an die innerstädtischen Gepflogenheiten halten will), dann erscheinen sie auch den „aufgeklärten“ Männern gefährlich (das geht soweit, daß Bonner seine Frau schließlich verdächtigt, mit anderen Männern umtriebig zu sein).
Es ist also vor allem eine Männergesellschaft, die Dexter darstellt, in der die Bigotterie, daraus resultierend der Rassismus und die Menschenverachtung, derart weit fortgeschritten sind (und darin besteht natürlich auch eine implizite Kritik an den Ansichten Faulkners und all jener, die Faulkners Meinung teilen), daß die Menschen, die all dem tagtäglich frönen und ausgesetzt sind, gar nicht mehr merken, wie es sie langsam zerstört. Der Einzige, der das Gift (wenn auch anders, als gedacht) ahnt, ist ironischerweise Paris Trout selbst, der seine Frau immer im Verdacht hatte, ihn zu vergiften. Sein Wahn, den Dexter fein, weil nie übertrieben, darstellt, artet schließlich darin aus, Flaschen mit seinem Urin zu sammeln, damit im Falle seines Ablebens bewiesen werden kann, daß er Opfer einer Vergiftung wurde.
Pete Dexter ist mit PARIS TROUT vielleicht sein bisher bester Roman gelungen. Er ist, nach den Stadtvierteln in GOD`S POCKET (1983/Dt. 2008), die durch ethnische und rassische Grenzen gekennzeichnet waren, und jenem Los Angeles, in dem TRAIN (2003/Dt. 2006) spielt und wo der Rassenkampf einem Klassenkampf gleichkam, dort angelangt, wo – zumindest in den USA – der Rassismus seine Wiege hat: Im tiefen Süden. Das ist der geographische Aspekt. Er ist hier auch sprachlich reduzierter bei seinen (möglichen) Vorbildern angekommen, Vorbildern wie eben William Faulkner. Und er tut dem Leser, der Gesellschaft generell, weh mit diesem Buch. Es tut weh, das zu lesen und es tut weh, zu wissen, daß dies zwar in den 50er Jahren angesiedelt, allerdings nie sehr weit entfernt ist von der (traurigen) Gegenwart.
Vielleicht war Pete Dexter bis dahin „nur“ ein guter Krimi- und Noir-Autor (wobei dies immer auch gute Literatur war, die sehr viel über diese Gesellschaft verriet), mit seinem erst dritten Roman PARIS TROUT legt er ein erschütterndes literarisches Gesellschaftsportrait vor. Und das ist dann eben wirklich große Literatur!
July 22, 2025
Non so come ci sia riuscito, ma questo libro è riuscito a farmi trattenere il fiato fino all'ultima pagina nonostante si sapesse da subito di che pasta era fatto Paris Trout.
Il romanzo è ambientato negli Stati Uniti, in Georgia, alla fine degli anni Quaranta. Paris Trout è bianco, sicuro di sé e convinto del proprio sistema valoriale: i debiti si pagano, la parola data si rispetta. Tutto molto semplice, no?
Trout incute timore e in città tutti lo rispettano. Ma che cosa succede quando qualcuno non rispetta il suo codice etico per gli affari? Scopriamo gli abissi della mente e del cuore del protagonista, un uomo orribile che più orribile non si può.
Non saprei dire in quale genere si collochi questo libro: noir? Thriller? Quello che è certo è che mi ha tenuta attaccata alla pagina (del Kindle) dall'inizio alla fine.
Il romanzo è ambientato negli Stati Uniti, in Georgia, alla fine degli anni Quaranta. Paris Trout è bianco, sicuro di sé e convinto del proprio sistema valoriale: i debiti si pagano, la parola data si rispetta. Tutto molto semplice, no?
Trout incute timore e in città tutti lo rispettano. Ma che cosa succede quando qualcuno non rispetta il suo codice etico per gli affari? Scopriamo gli abissi della mente e del cuore del protagonista, un uomo orribile che più orribile non si può.
Non saprei dire in quale genere si collochi questo libro: noir? Thriller? Quello che è certo è che mi ha tenuta attaccata alla pagina (del Kindle) dall'inizio alla fine.
September 24, 2022
Βαθμολογία: 9/10
Αυτό είναι το πρώτο βιβλίο του Πιτ Ντέξτερ που διαβάζω (στα ελληνικά κυκλοφορεί ακόμα ένα, το "Ο τύπος του Τύπου" aka The Paperboy, το οποίο ανήκει στη συλλογή μου), και δηλώνω εξαιρετικά ικανοποιημένος, τόσο από την ιστορία, όσο κυρίως από τη γραφή και την ατμόσφαιρα. Ο συγγραφέας με την απλή αλλά συνάμα δυνατή ιστορία του, μας δίνει μια εικόνα από μια μικρή πόλη του Αμερικάνικου Νότου κατά τη δεκαετία του '50, με όλες τις παθογένειες της κοινωνίας της μικρής αυτής πόλης, όπως ο ρατσισμός, η υποκρισία, η βία, και άλλα πολλά. Η γραφή του Ντέξτερ είναι εξαιρετική, λιτή και λακωνική αλλά παράλληλα με βάθος σε εικόνες και νοήματα, σίγουρα σαν συγγραφέας έχει την οξυδέρκεια και την απαραίτητη παρατηρητικότητα για να περιγράψει μια ολόκληρη κοινωνία και να πιάσει την ουσία των ηθών, των εθίμων και των χαρακτήρων του Νότου, χωρίς να πλατειάζει και να περιττολογεί. Πραγματικά πολύ δυνατό, ενδιαφέρον και καλογραμμένο μυθιστόρημα, με έναν κεντρικό κακό της ιστορίας που σίγουρα σε ορισμένα σημεία σε κάνει να ανατριχιάζεις. Πολύ ευχαρίστως θα έβλεπα και την κινηματογραφική μεταφορά του 1991, με τον φοβερό ρόλο του Πάρις Τράουτ να τον υποδύεται ο Ντένις Χόπερ (ιδανικά επιλογή θαρρώ!).
Αυτό είναι το πρώτο βιβλίο του Πιτ Ντέξτερ που διαβάζω (στα ελληνικά κυκλοφορεί ακόμα ένα, το "Ο τύπος του Τύπου" aka The Paperboy, το οποίο ανήκει στη συλλογή μου), και δηλώνω εξαιρετικά ικανοποιημένος, τόσο από την ιστορία, όσο κυρίως από τη γραφή και την ατμόσφαιρα. Ο συγγραφέας με την απλή αλλά συνάμα δυνατή ιστορία του, μας δίνει μια εικόνα από μια μικρή πόλη του Αμερικάνικου Νότου κατά τη δεκαετία του '50, με όλες τις παθογένειες της κοινωνίας της μικρής αυτής πόλης, όπως ο ρατσισμός, η υποκρισία, η βία, και άλλα πολλά. Η γραφή του Ντέξτερ είναι εξαιρετική, λιτή και λακωνική αλλά παράλληλα με βάθος σε εικόνες και νοήματα, σίγουρα σαν συγγραφέας έχει την οξυδέρκεια και την απαραίτητη παρατηρητικότητα για να περιγράψει μια ολόκληρη κοινωνία και να πιάσει την ουσία των ηθών, των εθίμων και των χαρακτήρων του Νότου, χωρίς να πλατειάζει και να περιττολογεί. Πραγματικά πολύ δυνατό, ενδιαφέρον και καλογραμμένο μυθιστόρημα, με έναν κεντρικό κακό της ιστορίας που σίγουρα σε ορισμένα σημεία σε κάνει να ανατριχιάζεις. Πολύ ευχαρίστως θα έβλεπα και την κινηματογραφική μεταφορά του 1991, με τον φοβερό ρόλο του Πάρις Τράουτ να τον υποδύεται ο Ντένις Χόπερ (ιδανικά επιλογή θαρρώ!).
March 22, 2024
I generally avoid plot driven novels because they often have little to say about the human condition but are -- as they are designed to be -- immensely fun to read. This one was very good and swept me along quite nicely until I was fully satisfied and entertained. But the downside to plot driven books is that they don't live long in the memory and rarely posses any language or writing that is especially significant. But every now and then an entertaining yarn is all you really want or need. And on that score, this is great.
It's the 1950s and we're somewhere in the deep south of shucks y'all, yee-haw America. Paris Trout is a racist who, after loaning a car to a young black man and not getting paid, turns up at his house with his henchman Buster Devonne, and shoots the mother and a 14-year-old girl called Rosie Sayers. What follows is a community in denial, a complicity, and a trial that leads nowhere. Trout is never really punished because of his power and influence and because the society he lives in doesn't really put any value in a black person's life. It's a story you've read/seen a million times before (from America especially) and it's quite purposely designed to get your back up. Paris Trout, for example, is cartoonishly evil. Not only is he a racist and murderer but also a misogynist and abuser of his own wife. Dexter really lays it on thick and lets you hate Trout from the word go until you start to enjoy it. There are no redeeming features, just relentless villainy to get your teeth into. As such, it's somewhat manipulative and predictable as a story but -- as already stated -- enormously enjoyable to read.
There is only one part of Trout's life that indicates he is more than just an unthinking monster and that's his ailing elderly mother who lives in a nursing home. He often visits her and, at the climax of the book, uses her in his last line of defence. But even this throws no real light on Trout as a person or his motivations. I suspect the book is more about the community ignoring his actions (and therefore being complicit in them) than an exploration of why those actions occurred in the first place.
So yeah, of no real literary significance but a good old-fashioned and entertaining romp.
It's the 1950s and we're somewhere in the deep south of shucks y'all, yee-haw America. Paris Trout is a racist who, after loaning a car to a young black man and not getting paid, turns up at his house with his henchman Buster Devonne, and shoots the mother and a 14-year-old girl called Rosie Sayers. What follows is a community in denial, a complicity, and a trial that leads nowhere. Trout is never really punished because of his power and influence and because the society he lives in doesn't really put any value in a black person's life. It's a story you've read/seen a million times before (from America especially) and it's quite purposely designed to get your back up. Paris Trout, for example, is cartoonishly evil. Not only is he a racist and murderer but also a misogynist and abuser of his own wife. Dexter really lays it on thick and lets you hate Trout from the word go until you start to enjoy it. There are no redeeming features, just relentless villainy to get your teeth into. As such, it's somewhat manipulative and predictable as a story but -- as already stated -- enormously enjoyable to read.
There is only one part of Trout's life that indicates he is more than just an unthinking monster and that's his ailing elderly mother who lives in a nursing home. He often visits her and, at the climax of the book, uses her in his last line of defence. But even this throws no real light on Trout as a person or his motivations. I suspect the book is more about the community ignoring his actions (and therefore being complicit in them) than an exploration of why those actions occurred in the first place.
So yeah, of no real literary significance but a good old-fashioned and entertaining romp.
August 20, 2020
This is the first reading selection for my online backlist book club. Review to come after our discussion (unless I forget... which is likely).
July 18, 2017
The insistent thought comes to me: Paris Trout is America, lawless and fucked up.
Paris Trout the novel, though, can serve as a prototype of Southern Gothic fiction. A brutal crime takes place in a dusty town of the Jim Crow South, and the writer proceeds to unravel its aftermath through the divergent perspectives of multiple characters, at the same time exploring the values and attitudes that gave rise to a society as twisted and perverted as Dixie. No need to put it in the past tense either - as Nixon's Southern Strategy has reached its rancid acme in the person of the Orange Ogre, the n-word (to take but one example) has also come back into fashion in white American discourse, spreading as far north as Bill Maher's mouth and all the way west to the spray-painted gates of LeBron James' LA mansion.
You might have thought Dixie was dead, but you would be wrong. It is very much alive, and through its takeover of the US government, it is about to wreak havoc on the entire planet.
But coming back to Dexter's novel. The author took his inspiration from the real-life mass murderer Marion Stembridge, a sullen shopkeeper and loan shark operating out of the pleasant town of Milledgeville, GA, who not only gunned down two black women in cold blood in 1949 but four years later also shot dead two white lawyers before blowing his own brains out with a .38 revolver. Dexter himself lived in Milledgeville for a short while, which is how he came across the story, although he is by no means the town's most famous literary resident - that honour belongs to none other than Flannery O'Connor. But Dexter does plenty of justice to his story, skilfully portraying a time and place that was as complacent as it was profoundly criminal, and although I find it well nigh impossible to step into the warped hateful brain of the average Dixie cracker, much less a cold-blooded killer like Paris Trout, Dexter manfully steps up to that challenge too.
Although, for no reason that I can detect, the book has dropped out of the popular imagination, it was successful enough in its own time to win the National Book Award - no less! - and it was also turned into a movie - equally forgotten - starring Dennis Hopper as the titular monster. No bother. Even if you knew nothing about the backstory or the Hollywood version, this novel is worth reading, for it is, in its own understated way, a classic example of Southern fiction.
Paris Trout the novel, though, can serve as a prototype of Southern Gothic fiction. A brutal crime takes place in a dusty town of the Jim Crow South, and the writer proceeds to unravel its aftermath through the divergent perspectives of multiple characters, at the same time exploring the values and attitudes that gave rise to a society as twisted and perverted as Dixie. No need to put it in the past tense either - as Nixon's Southern Strategy has reached its rancid acme in the person of the Orange Ogre, the n-word (to take but one example) has also come back into fashion in white American discourse, spreading as far north as Bill Maher's mouth and all the way west to the spray-painted gates of LeBron James' LA mansion.
You might have thought Dixie was dead, but you would be wrong. It is very much alive, and through its takeover of the US government, it is about to wreak havoc on the entire planet.
But coming back to Dexter's novel. The author took his inspiration from the real-life mass murderer Marion Stembridge, a sullen shopkeeper and loan shark operating out of the pleasant town of Milledgeville, GA, who not only gunned down two black women in cold blood in 1949 but four years later also shot dead two white lawyers before blowing his own brains out with a .38 revolver. Dexter himself lived in Milledgeville for a short while, which is how he came across the story, although he is by no means the town's most famous literary resident - that honour belongs to none other than Flannery O'Connor. But Dexter does plenty of justice to his story, skilfully portraying a time and place that was as complacent as it was profoundly criminal, and although I find it well nigh impossible to step into the warped hateful brain of the average Dixie cracker, much less a cold-blooded killer like Paris Trout, Dexter manfully steps up to that challenge too.
Although, for no reason that I can detect, the book has dropped out of the popular imagination, it was successful enough in its own time to win the National Book Award - no less! - and it was also turned into a movie - equally forgotten - starring Dennis Hopper as the titular monster. No bother. Even if you knew nothing about the backstory or the Hollywood version, this novel is worth reading, for it is, in its own understated way, a classic example of Southern fiction.
November 14, 2019
It's been almost 2 months since I've finished this book and I'm still thinking of one specific scene in the book that gave me chills.
Let's just say, for maniacal purposes, it gives you one of the most unique ways to use a bottle of mineral water...
Let's just say, for maniacal purposes, it gives you one of the most unique ways to use a bottle of mineral water...
June 21, 2018
It took two tries to read this book. The opening chapter portends nothing good. I read gingerly, afraid of what was to come. Once the first chapter was over, I found it easier to go on. Like I had the worst behind me and yet the story is unpredictable.
The back blurb leads one to expect some sort of John Grisham trial drama set in the Jim Crow era, but that is not what this book is at all, yet I am hard pressed to say what it IS about.
Paris Trout is a very well written character study of a disturbed, loathsome man and the small Southern town that finds it easier to tolerate him rather than confront him; a portrait of human nature at its most complicit and apathetic.
The back blurb leads one to expect some sort of John Grisham trial drama set in the Jim Crow era, but that is not what this book is at all, yet I am hard pressed to say what it IS about.
Paris Trout is a very well written character study of a disturbed, loathsome man and the small Southern town that finds it easier to tolerate him rather than confront him; a portrait of human nature at its most complicit and apathetic.
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