I don’t think it’s possible to really assess the appropriateness of violence in crime fiction, or the intent of authors who include more details of the violence, in a vacuum. It is my opinion that it isn’t possible to make hard and fast rules about the inclusion of violence, or even the level of description in a book. I realize some have checklists (dead dog=author is scum of the universe) but I personally feel that’s shortsighted.
An author has a responsibility to include what’s necessary to tell the story. Every component of the work should have a purpose. It may set the tone, reveal character, advance the plot… This is true of the nature and level of violence included in a work as well. In one book, a torture scene might be completely appropriate, and in another it might be gratuitous. When I review, that’s a question I consider. Gratuitous violence, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder to some degree, which means the conclusions are always subjective. What I find amusing is when reviewers or authors make sweeping generalizations about the level of violence in books.
I blogged about a radio program back in July, in the wake of Harrogate Crime Festival, when an author went on BBC and made some strong statements about violence in crime fiction. He said: “What could be more old-fashioned and artificial than that? I’ll tell you what. It’s the gritty, realistic, blood-soaked corrosive rubbish that you see spattered all over Waterstones every day…
“What is sad is that crime fiction, which is supposed to be entertainment, should try and think it’s superior enough to take on these major, gritty, realistic, subjects like child abuse and they love to have a violent scene with perhaps some woman or child being tortured. Is that what we want to read? Yes, if you’re a serious novelist, by all means tackle big social subjects but not if you’re a crime writer.” He goes on to say, “What we do want to avoid is the pornography of violence that is so prevalent.”
First of all, it’s highly generalized to say that the entire genre is “blood-soaked corrosive rubbish”. However, it’s his further comments, about the purpose of crime fiction being entertainment, that I take offense to.
An ideal book will entertain, but resonate. It is my own opinion that the worst sin a book can commit is being utterly forgettable. With crime fiction, one of the central issues of a work is the crime. As a result, how that is handled is critical. To me, it goes hand in hand with the tone of the story. I considered calling it the work’s ‘moral center’ but that might be a bit much.
I have read many Agatha Christie books, and others, that maintained a standard of poison and bloodless crimes. In classics, I accept that the era the author worked in had a bearing on the level of violence portrayed in the work. I feel differently about works now, where an author makes pronouncements about wanting murder to be civilized, something to be discussed over tea and crumpets (as one Canadian author declared about their work). I find that attitude more offensive than anything I’ve read in a book.
Why? For me, the reason is partially personal. When I was 14 I was assaulted. It isn’t the only violence I’ve experienced in my life, as I also grew up in an abusive home. To me, one of the things that authors often neglect is the development of the victim. They become a plot device, almost nameless, faceless, just an excuse for a hero to go after a bad guy.
When I read, the books that linger for me are the ones that go deeper on some level. Crime is serious, it rips apart lives, it destroys a person’s sense of security, trust, well-being (sometimes emotionally, sometimes physically, sometimes both). This does not mean that I need to see every detail on the page. I can read that a man pinned a woman down and pried her legs apart, and read later in a medical report they found glass or wood splinters and I’ve got the idea. I don’t need to witness every second of the attack to understand what happened to her, or be horrified by it.
But I do want to have a sense that what happened mattered. In order to understand the seriousness of some crimes, you need to understand their nature. That means the author has a responsibility to give enough detail to help us understand what’s going on.
I have worked out issues reading crime fiction, and I have friends who have as well. It doesn’t bother me when I read things that cut close to what I experienced myself. In fact, there’s a unique sense of connection. Being a “victim” can be isolating. Most people don’t want to hear about it, because they don’t want to be confronted with another person’s pain. It’s not like we have a standard reference manual for the appropriate things to say to someone after they
a) were raped
b) attacked and almost died
c) watched someone kill their child
When I read something in a book I really connect with, that I can relate to from my own experiences, it tells me I’m not alone. Someone else in the world understands. But in a book where the author has gone to lengths to keep it bloodless and light and make sure nobody’s put off their lunch, I’ve been left to take offense at the cavalier manner they use toward the crime.
And ultimately, that’s what separates the wheat from the chaff. I think MONEY SHOT is proof that you can write a book that’s a damn entertaining read, that also says something. I fear saying too much on that level, because I don’t want to give spoilers, but Faust will have a lot to talk about in interviews. The beauty is that, like the best works of fiction, the messages in the book aren’t like pop-up sermons. They fit the nature of the story and are interwoven in a way that makes the reader think without pulling them out of the story.
And for the most part, the books I enjoy most are about the journey of the main character(s). As they are confronted by things, they struggle to deal with them. Over the course of time the crimes they’re confronting take a toll, and that is realistic. The problem with bloodless crimes that nobody gets too worked up over, in my opinion, is that your character can’t really be affected by them. After all, you’re taking such care to make sure nobody else is disturbed, so seeing a bad crime scene isn’t going to prompt your protag to drink, or keep them awake at nights. Let’s just keep it all nice and civilized so that nobody’s too offended by the crime… so why should anyone care?
The thing for me is, if I don’t care, why read it?
“The trouble with too many contemporary novels is that they are full of people not worth knowing. They characters slide in and out of the mind with hardly a ripple. They levy no tax on the memory; they make little claim on the connecting power of identification. They make only the skimpiest contribution to an understanding of the human situation. They leave you cold.” - Norman Cousins
Identification is about more than keeping it civilized so nobody loses their appetite after they’ve stumbled over the body in the parlor. What connects us all as people, what we all share regardless of gender, race or nationality, is that we live with the limitations of the flesh. “If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that” - Shakespeare.
If someone is punched, I expect them to bruise. Kicked, the same. Stabbed, they’ll bleed. And it may be necessary to experience the victim’s pain in order to understand their subsequent choices or to fully appreciate the sense of loss other characters feel as a result of their death, or how they’ve changed as a person. I don’t advocate carnage for the sake of carnage. I advocate appropriateness. I don’t exactly like reading violence, or writing it, but I also don’t enjoy reading sex. However, I can be fine with both if they fit the tone of the work. It’s not about what’s included, it’s about how why its included and how an author handles it on the page. What an author includes should fit with the nature of the story they’re telling.
It’s fair to say it really bothers me when some claim the moral high ground as they make sweeping generalizations about the reasons for violence in crime fiction, or the intent. There are undoubtedly authors who do substitute violence for plot, but I will not discount the legitimate purpose of violence in crime fiction because of the actions of a few.
(I’m not saying anyone here took the moral high ground – I’m speaking generally. I also haven’t identified the authors I quoted because my intent was to keep on the topic of the discussion, not to make it personal. Ultimately, I feel everyone has the right to decide what works for them, or what doesn’t, and there is room in the genre for everything. It may not be my thing, but that doesn’t make it worthless. That’s what really bothers me about the comments I quoted. Nobody has the right to determine for me what a work of fiction is allowed to mean to me, or to anyone else, or where that line is. I've read more graphic and disturbing violence studying the Old Testament than I have in most works of crime fiction.)
