Category: Patricia Highsmith

1001 books, Author, Book review, crime/thriller, Fiction, Italy, New York, Patricia Highsmith, Publisher, Setting, Vintage

‘The Talented Mr Ripley’ by Patricia Highsmith

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Talented-Mr-Ripley

Fiction – paperback; Vintage; 256 pages; 2009.

I seem to be going through a minor, and completely unplanned, phase of reading suspense novels right now, so what better book to continue the theme than Patricia Highsmith’s The Talented Mr Ripley, a classic of the genre?

This is where I also stick up my hand and confess that I’ve never seen the film, so I came to the book with no preconceptions whatsoever. I had no idea of the plot, nor the wickedness of the central character Mr Ripley either.

A suspense novel of the finest order

First published in 1955, the book is a suspense novel of the finest order — precisely plotted, written in concise but stylish prose, and filled with brilliant characters.

But unlike many suspense novels, where you fear for the good guys that have found themselves in a difficult situation, in this fast-paced story you actually cheer on the perpetrator. In this case, it is Mr Ripley, a 23-year-old loner, who commits two atrocious murders.

From the outset, we learn that Tom, who lives in New York, isn’t the most honest of characters. He hates his circle of friends, lies about his job and commits tax fraud under a false name. Raised by an aunt, whom he detests, he continues to accept the cheques she sends him because he’s desperate for the money.

But when he is offered the chance to go to Europe on an all-expenses paid trip, Tom sees it as an opportunity to start his life afresh.

A trip to Italy

The trip, however, is not without its strings, for Tom has been “hired” by a wealthy industrialist, Herbert Greenleaf, to go to Italy to convince his wayward son, Dickie, to return home. It seems that Tom once met Dickie at a party, but for some reason, Mr Greenleaf thinks they are close friends. Tom, knowing a good deal when he sees one, does nothing to disabuse him of the idea.

In the seaside Italian village of Mongibello, Tom befriends Dickie, an artist, and his American girlfriend, Marge, a writer. He is greeted with contempt at first, but soon worms his way into Dickie’s affections and the pair become inseparable. (There are hints of unrequited homosexual love, on Tom’s part, but they remain just that: hints.)

Of course, it’s difficult to say much more without ruining the plot, but Tom’s hunger for money gets the better of him and he decides to bump off Dickie. Later, when one of Dickie’s friends suspects that Tom is hiding something, he, too, is done away with.

Two murders down and with the police on his trail, the book’s suspense element goes into overdrive as Tom tries to keep two steps ahead in order not to be caught.

The story moves from Mongibello to Rome, Sicily to Venice, and all the while he covers his tracks so superbly that you begin to wonder if he will ever make a false move. Surely Marge can see through his lies? Doesn’t Mr Greenleaf suspect him of evil-doing? Can’t the police tell he is making things up? And won’t the private investigator, brought in at the last minute, find him out?

Cheering on a killer

Funnily enough, even though Tom is a killer and a wicked, manipulative little man, you can’t help but cheer him on. Yes, he’s probably a psychopath — he certainly doesn’t show empathy for any of his so-called friends or victims — but it’s hard to dismiss him as evil. He is so lacking in self-confidence and self-esteem, and so desperate to be liked and accepted by his peers, that you end up empathising with his conniving ways and become enamoured of his quick wit and ability to think on his feet. Essentially, you appreciate his talent as a con man and killer.

And that, I think, is the real success of this novel, because Highsmith really gets inside the heads of her characters and so expertly depicts the complicated tangle of human relationships — people’s loyalties, their weaknesses, the things that make them tick — that the characters and their predicaments seem entirely plausible.

You can appreciate why Tom is jealous of Marge, can see that Marge is foolish to pin all her hopes on a man who doesn’t truly love her and that Dickie is self-centred and spoilt. And you understand completely their motivations, which probably explains why you can never truly condemn Tom for his actions. He wants money, freedom and success — don’t we all? — he’s just gone about achieving it the wrong way.

I read The Talented Mr Ripley in two longish sittings because I just had to know whether Tom would get away with his crimes. If you want to know if he gets his just desserts, beg, borrow or buy a copy…

‘The Talented Mr Ripley’, by Patricia Highsmith, first published in 1955, is listed in Peter Boxall’s 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die, where it describes Tom Ripley as “one of the greatest creations of twentieth-century pulp writing, a schizophrenic figure at once charming, ambitious, unknowable, utterly devoid of morality, and prone to outbursts of violence”.

Author, Bloomsbury, Book review, Fiction, literary fiction, New York, Patricia Highsmith, Publisher, Setting, USA

‘Carol’ by Patricia Highsmith

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Carol

Fiction – paperback; Bloomsbury; 320 pages; 2010.

Most of us know the late Patricia Highsmith as a writer of psychological thrillers, such as Strangers on a Train and The Talented Mr Ripley. But the second novel that Ms Highsmith wrote was a romance.

Sadly, because it focused on a lesbian relationship, her then-publisher, Harper, did not want it, but it was picked up by a smaller press and published in 1952 under the pseudonym Claire Morgan. Titled The Price of Salt (later to be changed to Carol on subsequent reprintings), it became hugely popular for a short period of time (it sold nearly 1 million paperback copies in 1953), and then fell out of print.

It was reprinted again in 1991 by Naiad Press, and just this year, with a very nice introduction by Val McDermid, by Bloomsbury. I picked it up by chance while book browsing in The Riverside Bookshop, attracted by the gorgeous cover design with its striking use of bold orange.

The story is set in Manhattan in the early 1950s, a locale and time period that I find particularly attractive and interesting. The Second World War is still very much a recent memory, and all the mod-cons we take for granted today simply do not exist.

The characters that populate this novel work long hours, smoke, drink beer (even the women), dine out in cheap restaurants, buy meals to make at home from street corner delicatessens, worry about paying the rent and alleviate boredom by going to movie theatres, musical performances, hockey games or take long strolls through the park.

The central figure in the novel is Therese, a 19-year-old “orphan”, who has taken a Christmas sales job working on the doll counter of Frankenberg’s department store. The job is just a temporary arrangement in order to pay the bills while she looks for something in her real line of work, which is a stage designer.

One day she serves an attractive woman in her early 30s and finds herself completely smitten by her.

She was tall and fair, her long figure graceful in the loose fur coat that she held open with a hand on her waist. Her eyes were grey, colourless, yet dominant as light or fire, and, caught by these, Therese could not look away.

Under normal circumstances, you would expect Therese, who already has a steady boyfriend — the ever-dependable if somewhat dull Richard — to forget this customer. But Therese is determined to befriend her and armed with her address (garnered by arranging to have her purchases home delivered), she sends her a Christmas card. What follows is a burgeoning friendship in which Therese slowly manages to ingratiate herself into Carol’s life.

And while Therese is clearly obsessed with Carol, the feelings are not reciprocated because Carol is too caught up in her own problems: a bitter divorce and a potential custody battle over her young daughter. But the dynamic between them soon changes when the pair disappear on a road trip across the United States…

For a novel that is billed as a “lesbian romance” there isn’t really much romance in this book. Nor is there any sex. This is more a novel about a young woman’s coming of age, of her finding her place in the world and of broadening her horizons beyond her closeted life in Manhattan.

On another level it also focuses on the power plays between people — who has more to lose, who has more to gain — and of the ways in which our “lifestyle choices”, particularly in 1950s America, determine our fate.

It’s an incredibly atmospheric story because Highsmith is able to build a sense of impending doom and menace without really spelling anything out. There’s not much detail here, though, and there are frustrating moments when you realise you have to do a lot of reading “between the lines” to understand what is fully going on.

I found Therese particularly annoying at times, but perhaps that’s because Highsmith has painted such a faithful portrait of someone incredibly naive and inexperienced about affairs of the heart that she feels all too real.

Highsmith is also excellent at maintaining momentum. With its clipped prose and choppy sentences, it feels like a suspense novel, because everything moves so quickly, including the conversations between characters. I found it difficult to put down, if only because I wanted to know how the relationship between Therese and Carol panned out.

On that note, I should point out that if you are considering reading this book, it’s best not to read other reviews online, including the Wikipedia entry, because they all make a big point of revealing the ending. And if you buy this Bloomsbury edition, leave the introduction by McDermid until last, because it too features a major spoiler. The blurb, I’m happy to report, gives nothing away.