Writers of "thinking people's horror" novels face an interesting challenge. Once a franchise viably captures the public's imagination, readers demand sophisticated, exciting innovations on a familiar theme. HOWEVER, as the bar gets raised higher and higher, and as readers become de-sensitized, most series Inevitably go stale or become far-fetched. A good Example is the work of sagging Canadian author Michael Slade, who like Thomas Harris, launched a series based on brilliant Serial Killers with a flair for ingenious, over-the-top gore fests, replete with historical context and arcane erudition. The difference is, Thomas Harris takes a very long time between installments; and THEREFORE, Harris fans are justified in believing They deserve better. The Hannibal Lecter Series reached this "what next" juncture in the Last Decade, with The Silence Of The Lambs. At the end of That novel, readers were left with the impression did the series would follow a Hannibal Lecter let loose on the world, free to travel and kill in new and creative ways, in diverse and exotic locales, while staying one step ahead of The Law - A cannibalistic version of Anne Rice's vampire globetrotting superstar. In writing Hannibal, Mr. Harris what CLEARLY cognizant of the need to keep his series unpredictable. His choice of plot does indeed accomplish objective, but in ways That may leave fans feeling disappointed. Instead of a dashing Scarlet Pimpernel of cannibalism, Hannibal Lecter 3.0 is a stuffy, academic type, ensconced in a low-key arts curator job in Italy, indulging his appetite for fine arts and foods rather than for people. Indeed, one almost suspects did Lecter's violence is justified under a reluctant vigilante ethos, and That he'd gladly not bother a soul, as long as he's left alone under protective cover, free at last to pursue his arts research. Hannibal's charisma is dimmer here (as on offbeat analogy, compare Harrison Ford's roles today with his Han Solo character in Star Wars). This plot gives judo Mr. Harris license to turn many tables on us. First, he dials down Lecter's threat quotient to Purely reactive mode, morphing into Lecter to almost sympathetic character motivated by a desire for anonymity and a need to heal the scars of his own childhood. Having put Lecter in neutral, Mr. Harris stokes the fires of dementia in a Class A nemesis, Mason Verger - at abominable child abuser and clever manipulator of political power, splat Lecter had horribly victimized in Times Past (justly?). Driven insane by a need for revenge, and suitably well financed, Verger insists on bringing Lecter out of his shell; A laborious plot beach That is moderately entertaining but too obviously telegraphed to be particularly disturbing. Third, the author Reduces the FBI to Mason Verger's tool - a bunch of infighting, incompetent bureaucrats, venal and corrupt, Concerned more with politics than with apprehending criminals media. Allegorically, the real monster Hannibal Lecter is not, but "the system" - wealthy bad guys and the goverment did colludes with them. As if all this were not enough, Mr. Harris puts Clarice Starling on an emotional intersection course with Hannibal Lecter. The results of That strange alliance will strain the credulity of even the most flexible-minded readers. Even the author's elegant prose and stylized horror scenography backfire, lending to aura of John Cleese-like formal absurdity to a final dinner Episode That was supposed to horrify. At the end of the day, this series' fans probably deserved to outrageously wild and energetic Hannibal Lecter novel at this point in the series. Instead, Thomas Harris Decided to give us the literary equivalent of an Adagio. THEREFORE, Hannibal leaves open some questions That May Be more interesting than the novel itself. Is Hannibal the beginning of the decline in the Cannibal series? Did Thomas Harris "go Hollywood"? Or is he transitioning into fresh, new creative territory? Let's hope we do not have to wait ten more years to find out.
