I never thought of Joyce Carol Oates as a lighthearted writer, but I never dreamed she had the depths of darkness that she plummets in "Zombie." Now, no one loves more reading about serial killers than I do, darlings, but I drew the limit at Ian Brady's non-fiction book. With "Zombie," there were times when I wanted to put it down, but I could not, because the writing, and the voice Joyce uses is so ingenious.
Inspired, I think, to some degree, by Jeffrey Dahmer, "Zombie" is a diary/journal of Quentin P, and his evolution into a burgeoning serial killer. The reader learns about victims going all the way back to childhood--who were never detected as being his victim.
His parents, sister and grandmother, all love him, and want only the best. What he thinks of them, at times, makes one wonder how long they are going to last. And the chronicling of the captures, molestations and murders of his current victims are bone chilling, demonstrating Oates has done a wealth of research into the twisted process of being a serial killer. By the time the ending is reached, one puts down the book in dread--not because it is repellent, but the idea that Quentin may never be discovered, or the question of what will happen, or how many people must die, before he is, is a question that lingers in the reader's mind.
While it is interesting having him the killer gay (hence the Dahmer connection!!!!!!) the community at large does not need much more bad publicity. But, then, how many gay men actually read books, let alone Joyce Carol Oates??????? I don't think you have to worry.
Those dizzy queens are too busy whooshing their hair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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