James Dickey

Deliverance is one of those novels that I had long avoided: I'd heard enough about the movie to understand that it wouldn't be a pleasant read. And it's not. It's a gruesome read: full of violence, depravity, and gore. I must say, I'm not sure what to make of novels like this: books which lean so heavily toward plot and character, but which are less focused, perhaps, on what might be called "themes." True, Dickey introduces a number of motifs, including the tension between urban and rural populations; and there is an exploration of masculinity in the model age, too. All of this is present and apparent. But beyond that, it was a lot of plot, and a lot of rowing down the river. I don't necessarily fault Dickey for this: Deliverance is full of suspense, and well narrated. I wish, though, that it had gone beyond the violence and despair, and had explored the emotional landscape of its characters. After all, these characters are pushed to the limit, and after being exposed to such sudden acts of savagery, I thought that Dickey would cast more of a light into their emotional response. That response is not always present in Deliverance, but the brutality is: and perhaps that's the point -- there's no escaping it.