Since I’ve never spoken with an analyst in a professional capacity, my obsession with certain authors may or may not be regarded as a compulsion. When I discovered the existence of Donald E. Westlake, the undisputed master of the comic crime novel, his extensive back catalog kept me entertained for months. I remember reading Dancing Aztecs during the course of one summer vacation in Maine. People thought me completely nuts as I lay on the couch with tears running; gasping for breath as I read the lines that induced uncontrolled laughter; courtesy of my new best friend Donald E. Too well-written and interesting to put down but too painfully-funny not to (for the simple purpose of temporary physical recovery), Dancing Aztecs remains the most humorous and enjoyable popular fiction title to which I’ve been exposed.

Then along came Dexter . . .

The CBS network’s recent season one broadcast of the Showtime series based on author Jeff Lindsay’s Dexter books has caused Dextermania in my satellite-suburban environment. Both well-funded and extensively-endowed library networks at my disposal are currently fresh-out of Lindsay’s first effort Darkly Dreaming Dexter; making his second entry in the series my first stab at the life and times of pop-fiction’s benevolent serial killer. Though this review may suffer slight contamination (through inevitable comparison) from my experience with the Video Dexter, the lack of such influence from either the first or third book sets my sights squarely on the literary merits of book two.

The Monster in the forensics lab . . .

As with any review of a clever and complex mystery, one’s assessment must use care to preserve the full experience for the reader. Dearly Devoted Dexter is a fine example of the well-established police procedural / detective formula crime novel. Chapter one opens with a menacing description of a stalking that appears in the act of reciprocation. To our immediate relief, this description can also be used to detail Dexter’s innocent strategy used when playing Kick the Can with the neighborhood kids. By all description, Dexter’s anti-social activities pencil him into the Monster column (by his own humorous self-admission). However, Lindsay’s endowment of super-hero status in regard to Dexter’s protection of the innocent (especially children) is just one of the endearing qualities that gently suggests the reader should side with him; despite our conditioned adherence to societal convention and overall better judgement.

“It’s a bird!... It’s a plane!... No... It’s just DEXTER!”

From the conscience-free and fertile mind of Dexter, the author applies the difficult style of first-person narrative to tell his story. A running account of events as they happen can be problematic when using this format; especially in dealing with an inherent lack of delicious irony found in a more conventional telling, combined with such potentially dark content. Lindsay counters this by endowing Dexter with a keen sense of humor to go with his descriptive running monologue. Lindsay is also gifted with the ability to build upon an idea in unexpected directions. His game of connect-the-dots allows for the scope of Dexter’s latest predicament to be appreciated for its full dramatic value, then diffused with sedate yet ribald humor. A simple plan that results in a unique and classic style that quite appropriately softens the subject matter at hand.

With his step-father Harry’s careful tutelage, Dexter has been through serial-killer boot camp, where the acquisition of human emotions and their resulting reactions have been perfected through necessity. All miscreants and Monsters who appear on Dexter’s radar screen must conform to The Code; Harry’s constitution of conscience designed to punish those most deserving while reining-in his step-son’s more primal calling. By his own admission an “artificial human”, Dexter’s reconstructed conscience has also become a home for the “Dark Passenger” - a killer motivation more powerful than any sexual urge or lowly human obsession or desire. Our main storyline opens when young boys in the Miami area begin to disappear at random and the Dark Passenger is motivated to address this injustice.

In a matter of minutes, Dexter’s Internet skills reveal the possible responsible party by way of a very obscure connection only he discovers. The currently distressed and grieving families had all recently purchased homes from the same real estate agency. His job as a blood spatter analyst for the Miami police department gives him access to a variety of on-line resources off-limits to the inexperienced serial killer. Once his proof of guilt beyond reasonable doubt is established (by order of The Code), agent Randy MacGregor will suffer total and irrevocable foreclosure.

“Can Dexter come out and play?”

“Alas, no, dear Dark Passenger. Dexter is in time-out.” As if The Code weren’t enough to occasionally cramp Dexter’s style, his police associate, the mysterious Sergeant Doakes, suspects that there’s more to Dex than meets the eye. His constant surveillance presents a new challenge in executing the case of MacGregor vs. the Dark Passenger. In an effort to appear normal and boring; thus dissuading Doakes from continuing his crusade of harassment, Dexter discovers the magic of beer as he spends quality time with girlfriend Rita and her two kids - nine year-old Astor and her six year-old brother Cody.

Eventually, both Dexter and surveillant encounter a predicament much larger than their sporting game of cat-and-mouse. Currently at large is the demented Dr. Danco who is somewhat of an artiste; in that his work as surgeon leads to the creation of the howling vegetable (also dubbed the yodeling potato), which inspires great emotion (combined with chronic sobbing and retching) from those whose misfortune it is to appear at his exhibits. When lab-tech Dexter and his police detective sister Debs plan a strategy of locate, identify and disable, the plot is thick with the irony of one Monster in pursuit of another - though even Dexter himself is mildly appalled by the bad doctor’s modus operandi.

Dashingly Dimpled Dexter

Lindsay successfully sustains the quality of humor that sets Dark Dexter apart from your standard crime genre protagonist. He plays spot-on to Dexter’s weaknesses (as in Clueless Domestic Dexter) which offer-up a mother lode of comedic opportunity. On par with the genre at large, every flawed super-hero deserves his or her form of Kryptonite in an author’s pursuit of plot-twisting jeopardy. Intrepid Dark Avenger or inhuman Monster, Dexter the square peg will always represent a red flag to the most observant round hole-types such as Sergeant Doakes. As a refreshing bonus, Lindsay’s action sequences are tightly-written, visual, exciting and to the point. Even during his near-death experience, Dexter’s upside-down, underwater brain-storming of completely unrelated events concerning the fate of his future step-son adds valuable, if somewhat off-topic humor.

Mario who?

And now for the inevitable comparisons to Video Dexter. Despite the otherwise perfect casting of the intense and witty Michael C. Hall (Six Feet Under) in the title role, Jeff Lindsay describes Dex as dimpled and cute; given to running and maintaining a state of fitness necessary for his physically-intense nightly excursions. I was influenced by the author’s subtle and consistent impression of someone normal, dark and handsome in a stealth-like, invisible way. Dexter’s drunken co-worker Camilla Figg refers to him as a “beautiful bassurd” as she repeatedly attempts to molest the man at his engagement celebration. Due to these late developments on the descriptive front, my mind’s eye settled on actor Mario Lopez. Your results may vary. Mine tend never to be typical or predictable.

Persnickitism in perpetuity . . .

I’m not sure if the legions of decency who protested the CBS airing of Doctored Diluted Dexter also object to his literary roots. The Showtime version is clearly more graphically themed than the second book in the series. While the book has its share of adult content, I found this to be more two-headed snake in a bottle bizarre than lurid or gratuitous. My contention is that the degree of unbridled trash presented daily by tag-team Oprah and Dr. Phil will do more to damage the psyche of after-school teens than anything Jeff Lindsay could possibly construct.

Lindsay’s book has a better balance of lighter humor than Video Dexter’s more acerbic wit, but those aware of the process regarding such bits of adaptation should not be surprised by this. Authors of popular fiction sit alone in a room and create from a blank page. People (as in plural) who scratch-together teleplays based on the work of these more talented individuals often haggle by committee and bargain details over long lunches and conference calls. Under the circumstances, it’s a credit to all involved that Video Dexter has emerged as a quality franchise.

“The day passed quickly, with only one trip out to a homicide scene, a routine dismemberment with garden equipment. It was strictly amateur work; the idiot had tried to use an electric hedge clipper and succeeded only in making a great deal of extra work for me, before finishing off his wife with the pruning shears... A well-done dismemberment is neat, above all, or so I always say. None of this puddled blood and caked flesh on the walls. It shows a real lack of class...”

I found Dearly Devoted Dexter to be a most impressive and thoroughly entertaining read. A top-tier page turner in the tradition of classic comic mystery novels by Donald Westlake and Lawrence Block. A book that anyone with an ounce of popular literary aspiration would be tickled pink to compile should they be lucky and/or talented enough to eventually grab the brass ring. A book so good, the only thing I find remotely disturbing is the fact that author Jeff Lindsay thought of it first.

Dearly Devoted Dexter (2005)
Author: Jeff Lindsay
Doubleday/Random House
ISBN: 0385511248 (Hardcover)

Recommended: Yes