Night In The Lonesome October

Night In The Lonesome October, by Richard Laymon: I read all 346 pages, so that’s a win right there, especially for a novel published in this century. (Although for a novel published in 2001, this thing seems terribly dated. I guess it was published after the author’s death, so maybe he had this manuscript lying around a closet or basement collecting dust for 15 or 20 years, that might explain why it seems way behind the times, particularly when it comes to homosexuality, which is, of course, completely ordinary in our current day and age).

Anyway, the hero(?) of this psychological thriller/urban horror story is Ed Logan, a 20 year old college student who just got dumped by his girlfriend, and immediately sinks into depression, wallows in self-pity, tinkers with misogyny and, as some sort of DIY therapy, begins cruising the late night streets of what he supposed was his quiet, sleepy little college town, only to discover an underside darker than that of David Lynch’s Blue Velvet, and which tempts the dark side of Ed himself, as he begins peeping into windows, groping sleeping girls, and fantasizing/contemplating the practicalities of rape. . .all the while maintaining a bland facade (although, in truth, it may not be a facade, as other than his willingness to indulge his sexual quirks, he’s a pretty dull character) which nonetheless somehow quickly manages to attract the attention of 3 gorgeous females (one jail bait age, one college age and one adult age).

While he’s juggling these 3 females, he also attracts the attention of a bisexual rapist (?!) in a donut shop (?!) who makes it quite clear to Ed that is he going to rape Ed and Ed’s new girlfriend (the college age one).

Listen, this is a great story if you like sexual perversion. If you don’t, then there’s not much here to keep your interest. The dialogue is horrendous, and the characters are as shallow as the kid’s end of a swimming pool.

Oh, and there’s the homosexual character, Kirkus, Ed’s classmate. Of course, he too, for some reason, is insanely attracted to Ed, and is maniacally desperate to be his lover. The Kirkus character is the main reason the book seems so dated. Kirkus would make even the most over-the-top 1950s pulp erotica swishy seem like a Westboro Baptist choir boy. He’s the most pathetic, perverted fruit I’ve encountered in mainstream genre fiction.

One other reason the book seems so dated is even though it is set on a contemporary college campus, the college life depicted seems like 1970s Erich Segal Love Story. . .albeit with the characters from The 120 Days Of Sodom. 

Anyway, the story is basically Ed sulking around town at night feeling sorry for himself, even after he bags his new college girlfriend (because she’s a bipolar wreck and even though she’s beautiful, hey, he did see on one of his midnight cruises this jail bait girl who is even hotter, and seems way cooler, as well as the nude adult woman he peeped on), while simultaneously trying to dodge the city’s clan of homeless cannibals (?!) and the bisexual rapist.

This is not supernatural horror, it’s the horror of the damaged mind. The review probably makes the book seem worse than it really is. The technical execution is poor, but the idea behind it is interesting enough to keep turning the pages. The world is populated with lonely, desperate, damaged souls, driven by desires they can, at best, barely control, and as the novel’s Grand Guignol S&M finale of erect penises and sopping vaginas makes clear, there isn’t a whole hell of a lot that separates the best of us from the worst of us.