Sometimes the book is better than the movie, and Thomas Harris is always better on paper. He's one of the most talented writers in the biz, although like Stephen King his story choices make him a hard read for me. Like King he also takes great pleasure in things I do not find amusing or entertaining in the least, so keep that in mind as we move along.
I haven't read anything by this author since Hannibal, a book I still cite as having the worst/most sadistic/infuriating ending I've read since Mieville's Perdido Street Station. China nearly made me give up writing; Thomas made me want to punch him in the face. I knew there was another Lecter book that came out (Hannibal Rising?) after the one I hated so much but I was done with the author anyway, so no big deal. Until my guy and I were out with our nephew at a bargain outlet store, and I saw a remaindered copy of Cari Mora on display in the book section.
I've never seen Thomas Harris's work remaindered anywhere before that moment, and I haven't heard a peep about this particular title. Since the author rarely publishes anything that seemed weird to me. It also gave me a little bit of -- okay, immense -- satisfaction to see Thomas Harris there among all the failed mysteries and ho-hum biographies and Amish romances. Since this gem was obviously not going the way of Silence of the Lambs, I decided to buy a copy and see why.
Cari Mora is a lot like Red Dragon, if you turned the story inside out and sprinkled a little Silence of the Lambs in it. The title character is a former Colombian child soldier, and among many other jobs she housesits a mansion that once belonged to drug lord, cartel king and terrorist Pedro Escobar (yes, the same Pedro Escobar from the real word) where he supposedly buried half a ton of gold under the house. Cari is a world-wearier version of Clarice Starling.
Hans-Peter Schneider, the Hannibal Lecter of this story, wants the gold and comes after her for her knowledge of the house. He plans to chop her up and sell her body parts, or perhaps creatively mutilate her for the pleasure of richer men, and he spends a lot of time fantasizing about this, to my eternal disgust. Happily she manages to slip through his fingers. Hans-Peter, Cari and a motley crew of other characters then get caught up in trying to get the gold and stay alive. Not all succeed.
The writing was technically impressive. There's not a spare word in any Thomas Harris novel, and as a writer I appreciate that. That's about all the positive in this book for me. The story, the characters, and even the ending didn't move me. I've seen this story before from the author, in different incarnations, and I didn't like it the other times I read it. It's obvious now that unlike Stephen King Thomas Harris is very limited on what he can write, or he's not interesting in exploring new story territory. Anyway, I think if he publishes again he'll go on telling the same story with the same characters, plot and twists, just dressed up as different. Not my cup of tea.
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