| The Serialist by David Gordon |
Visit our companion sites
The New Canon
A guide to outstanding works of
fiction published since 1985
Conceptual Fiction
Celebrating masterworks of science
fiction, fantasy, alternate history and
magical realism
Great Books Guide
A look at contemporary currents in
literature
The New Canon
A guide to outstanding works of
fiction published since 1985
Conceptual Fiction
Celebrating masterworks of science
fiction, fantasy, alternate history and
magical realism
Great Books Guide
A look at contemporary currents in
literature
Reviewed by Ted Gioia
"It all began the morning when, dressed like my dead
mother and accompanied by my fifteen-year-old
business partner, I opened the letter from death row
and discovered that a serial killer was my biggest
fan…."
Nothing like a good opening
sentence to grab your attention,
huh? But with this starting-
point—as with so much in this
dazzling debut novel from
David Gordon—the reader
may puzzle over how much is
parody and how much admiring
emulation of the mystery genre.
Then again, the reader might
toss aside all these considerations,
and simply enjoy The Serialist as a first-rate thriller.
Certainly Gordon has put in all the right ingredients.
The plot never lags, as he generously dishes out
murders, clues, suspects, and a host of unexpected
twists and turns. You may think that the crime has
been solved and the mystery put to rest after chapter
66—and wonder why another 13 chapters are waiting
for you. But Gordon has several more surprises in
store, as he adds layer after layer of new complexities
and revelations in a tightly plotted and skillfully
executed conclusion.
But this author also manages to find time to draw on
almost every trick and device in the postmodern
arsenal as he unfolds his tale of a serial writer who
collaborates with a serial killer. The double
signification of the book's title is a fitting rubric for
a novel filled with so many double meanings,
double levels of interpretation and— but of course!
—double-crossings. Gordon shows off his meta-
narrative mastery, incorporating a range of texts
within texts, mixing in literary theory with his leads
and clues, and sometimes bringing his authorial
presence into the forefront of the tale, while else-
where stepping back to allow his tale to unfold as a
straightforward thriller. And taking a page out of
Paul Auster's playbook, Gordon shows that the
author of a mystery story can morph into a victim, a
suspect, a detective....or perhaps all of the above.
Our protagonist is Harry Bloch, a hack writer who
specializes in trashy genre books written under a
variety of pseudonyms. These include: hard-boiled
detective novels, featuring Mordechai Jones, the
"ghetto sheriff," a Jewish African-American of mixed
Ethiopian and Native American ancestry; a series of
trashy science fiction novels (typical title: Whither
Thou Goest, O Slutship Commander?) ; and—Bloch’s
latest project—vampire romances, written under the
name of his dead mother. (Apparently vampire books
written by men are a dud in the marketplace.)
Excerpts of each of these genres are presented at
various points in The Serialist, and serve as comic
vignettes in a novel that otherwise is quite macabre.
Bloch is prolific, but still can hardly pay his rent. A
big payday looms when a convicted serial killer on
death row offers to tell our author his life story—and
potentially the inside details of the headline-grabbing
murders that led to his arrest. Time is running out,
however: in a few weeks, the alleged murderer will be
executed by the state of New York. And in exchange
for his personal confession, the murderer demands
that Bloch do some unsavory favors.
This part of the story proceeds according to the rules
of traditional crime novels, but Gordon pulls out all
of the stops, and shows a genuine knack for the very
genre categories he also parodies. He draws on
elements of the police procedural, the suspense
thriller, the standard detective whodunit, and the
horror genre. Usually a mystery writer excels at one
of these sub-categories, but Gordon seems equally
skilled at each—as well as at a number of other genre
styles as well. He may be the literary equivalent of
those impressionists who can mimic the voices and
mannerisms of a host of famous people, and move
quickly and effortlessly from one to another.
But just when you think Gordon may be too gim-
micky, he pulls back and take a critical stance. Some
of the best parts of this book are the author’s asides on
literary matters. Here he offers up some observations
on serial killers and serial books:
"The conventional view of mysteries, as explained by
Auden, for example, is as an essentially conservative
genre. A crime disturbs the status quo; we readers
get to enjoy the transgressive thrill, then observe
approvingly as the detective, agent of social order,
sets things right at the end. We finish our cocoa and
tuck ourselves in, safe and sound….But what this
theory fails to take into account is the next book, the
next murder, and the next. When you line up all the
Poirots, all the Maigrets, all the Lew Archers and Matt
Scudders, what you get is something far stranger and
more familiar: a world where mysterious destructive
forces are constantly erupting and where all solutions
are temporary, slight pauses during which we take a
breath before the next case."
I’m not sure whether there will be a next case for this
author. I can’t imagine him making a career out of
crime fiction—a certain restless quality in the writing
here suggests that he may not stick with any style or
genre for long. But his talent is considerable, his
storytelling skills superb, and his sense for both the
dramatic and comedic well documented in this
impressive debut novel.
Ted Gioia's latest book is The Birth (and Death) of the
Cool.
"It all began the morning when, dressed like my dead
mother and accompanied by my fifteen-year-old
business partner, I opened the letter from death row
and discovered that a serial killer was my biggest
fan…."
Nothing like a good opening
sentence to grab your attention,
huh? But with this starting-
point—as with so much in this
dazzling debut novel from
David Gordon—the reader
may puzzle over how much is
parody and how much admiring
emulation of the mystery genre.
Then again, the reader might
toss aside all these considerations,
and simply enjoy The Serialist as a first-rate thriller.
Certainly Gordon has put in all the right ingredients.
The plot never lags, as he generously dishes out
murders, clues, suspects, and a host of unexpected
twists and turns. You may think that the crime has
been solved and the mystery put to rest after chapter
66—and wonder why another 13 chapters are waiting
for you. But Gordon has several more surprises in
store, as he adds layer after layer of new complexities
and revelations in a tightly plotted and skillfully
executed conclusion.
But this author also manages to find time to draw on
almost every trick and device in the postmodern
arsenal as he unfolds his tale of a serial writer who
collaborates with a serial killer. The double
signification of the book's title is a fitting rubric for
a novel filled with so many double meanings,
double levels of interpretation and— but of course!
—double-crossings. Gordon shows off his meta-
narrative mastery, incorporating a range of texts
within texts, mixing in literary theory with his leads
and clues, and sometimes bringing his authorial
presence into the forefront of the tale, while else-
where stepping back to allow his tale to unfold as a
straightforward thriller. And taking a page out of
Paul Auster's playbook, Gordon shows that the
author of a mystery story can morph into a victim, a
suspect, a detective....or perhaps all of the above.
Our protagonist is Harry Bloch, a hack writer who
specializes in trashy genre books written under a
variety of pseudonyms. These include: hard-boiled
detective novels, featuring Mordechai Jones, the
"ghetto sheriff," a Jewish African-American of mixed
Ethiopian and Native American ancestry; a series of
trashy science fiction novels (typical title: Whither
Thou Goest, O Slutship Commander?) ; and—Bloch’s
latest project—vampire romances, written under the
name of his dead mother. (Apparently vampire books
written by men are a dud in the marketplace.)
Excerpts of each of these genres are presented at
various points in The Serialist, and serve as comic
vignettes in a novel that otherwise is quite macabre.
Bloch is prolific, but still can hardly pay his rent. A
big payday looms when a convicted serial killer on
death row offers to tell our author his life story—and
potentially the inside details of the headline-grabbing
murders that led to his arrest. Time is running out,
however: in a few weeks, the alleged murderer will be
executed by the state of New York. And in exchange
for his personal confession, the murderer demands
that Bloch do some unsavory favors.
This part of the story proceeds according to the rules
of traditional crime novels, but Gordon pulls out all
of the stops, and shows a genuine knack for the very
genre categories he also parodies. He draws on
elements of the police procedural, the suspense
thriller, the standard detective whodunit, and the
horror genre. Usually a mystery writer excels at one
of these sub-categories, but Gordon seems equally
skilled at each—as well as at a number of other genre
styles as well. He may be the literary equivalent of
those impressionists who can mimic the voices and
mannerisms of a host of famous people, and move
quickly and effortlessly from one to another.
But just when you think Gordon may be too gim-
micky, he pulls back and take a critical stance. Some
of the best parts of this book are the author’s asides on
literary matters. Here he offers up some observations
on serial killers and serial books:
"The conventional view of mysteries, as explained by
Auden, for example, is as an essentially conservative
genre. A crime disturbs the status quo; we readers
get to enjoy the transgressive thrill, then observe
approvingly as the detective, agent of social order,
sets things right at the end. We finish our cocoa and
tuck ourselves in, safe and sound….But what this
theory fails to take into account is the next book, the
next murder, and the next. When you line up all the
Poirots, all the Maigrets, all the Lew Archers and Matt
Scudders, what you get is something far stranger and
more familiar: a world where mysterious destructive
forces are constantly erupting and where all solutions
are temporary, slight pauses during which we take a
breath before the next case."
I’m not sure whether there will be a next case for this
author. I can’t imagine him making a career out of
crime fiction—a certain restless quality in the writing
here suggests that he may not stick with any style or
genre for long. But his talent is considerable, his
storytelling skills superb, and his sense for both the
dramatic and comedic well documented in this
impressive debut novel.
Ted Gioia's latest book is The Birth (and Death) of the
Cool.
| New Angles on an Old Genre |
| Postmodern Mystery |
| Postmodern Mystery is a web site devoted to experimental, unconventional and postmodern approaches to stories of mystery and suspense |
David Gordon was inspired to write his first
novel after reading letters from convicted
criminals. As with the character Darian
Clay in The Serialist, these prisoners often
complained about being
"wrongly incarcerated."
Gordon explains: "Many
asked for lawyers or to
have their stories told,
though they would have
settled for free magazines.
I also considered writing an article on the
disturbing phenomenon of women who
write to prisoners, particularly those locked
up for violent crimes, and become
enamored with them. These two ideas
formed the basic situation in my mind."
Before embarking on his new career as a
novelist, Gordon gained experience as a
ghostwriter, teacher, tutor, copywriter, poet,
scriptwriter, foot messenger, shipping clerk
and editor of adult magazines—the latter
job presenting him with the opportunity to
read letters from convicts. Most of these
professions find their way into his debut
novel, a postmodern detective story with
bits of sci-fi and vampire fiction thrown in
for good measure. Gordon was born in
Queens, studied writing at Columbia
University, and lives in New York City. He
is currently working on two projects, a "dark
comic love story" set in New York and a
thriller about a bookstore clerk turned
detective in Los Angeles.
novel after reading letters from convicted
criminals. As with the character Darian
Clay in The Serialist, these prisoners often
complained about being
"wrongly incarcerated."
Gordon explains: "Many
asked for lawyers or to
have their stories told,
though they would have
settled for free magazines.
I also considered writing an article on the
disturbing phenomenon of women who
write to prisoners, particularly those locked
up for violent crimes, and become
enamored with them. These two ideas
formed the basic situation in my mind."
Before embarking on his new career as a
novelist, Gordon gained experience as a
ghostwriter, teacher, tutor, copywriter, poet,
scriptwriter, foot messenger, shipping clerk
and editor of adult magazines—the latter
job presenting him with the opportunity to
read letters from convicts. Most of these
professions find their way into his debut
novel, a postmodern detective story with
bits of sci-fi and vampire fiction thrown in
for good measure. Gordon was born in
Queens, studied writing at Columbia
University, and lives in New York City. He
is currently working on two projects, a "dark
comic love story" set in New York and a
thriller about a bookstore clerk turned
detective in Los Angeles.
| ROGUES GALLERY: DAVID GORDON |
| Follow Ted Gioia on Twitter at www.twitter.com/tedgioia |
| Click on image to purchase |
Recommended Sites:
Conceptual Fiction
Great Books Guide
The New Canon
Ted Gioia's homepage
Ted Gioia (on Twitter)
American Fiction Notes
The Art of Reading
The Big Read
Blographia Literaria
Books, Inq.
Bookslut
Booksquare
A Commonplace Blog
Conversational Reading
Crimespree Magazine
Critical Mass
Dana Gioia
The Elegant Variation
Fictionaut
In Search of the Classic Mystery
Joseph Peschel
Light Reading
The Literary Saloon
Los Angeles Review of Books
Maud Newton
The Millions
The Misread City
Mystery Fanfare
The Neglected Books Page
Nota Bene Books
Open Letters Monthly
Readerville
The Reading Experience
Reviews and Responses
Tipping My Fedora
Waggish
Conceptual Fiction
Great Books Guide
The New Canon
Ted Gioia's homepage
Ted Gioia (on Twitter)
American Fiction Notes
The Art of Reading
The Big Read
Blographia Literaria
Books, Inq.
Bookslut
Booksquare
A Commonplace Blog
Conversational Reading
Crimespree Magazine
Critical Mass
Dana Gioia
The Elegant Variation
Fictionaut
In Search of the Classic Mystery
Joseph Peschel
Light Reading
The Literary Saloon
Los Angeles Review of Books
Maud Newton
The Millions
The Misread City
Mystery Fanfare
The Neglected Books Page
Nota Bene Books
Open Letters Monthly
Readerville
The Reading Experience
Reviews and Responses
Tipping My Fedora
Waggish