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A review by mickmickmickmick
Psycho II by Robert Bloch
This is the sequel to Bloch's original novel and it has nothing to do with the film Psycho II, which was released the next year.
The explanation normally given for that is that Bloch's novel critiqued Hollywood horror films and the producers of the movie did not want to make that movie. The suggestion is that they were offended by Bloch's satirization of them.
That might be the case.
But after reading this, I find it entirely believable that the movie people just didn't like this book simply because it was bad.
The narrative is split between a very standard and silly horror story and the meta satire of the second half.
I'll admit, I wasn't expecting that level of observation from this author so I was a little confused. I thought this would be a straightforward Norman-escapes-and-kills-again story. But once I got on board with the lofty premise, I could appreciate what Bloch was attempting.
Generally, the fault of this book is that the satire is neither sharp nor amusing.
His caricatures of Hollywood producers and performers were flat and repetitive. It was like reading an old Cracked magazine. His concern about the link between greed and violence is valid but he approaches it exclusively in cliche.
The book was too ambitious, I think. This type of thing is very tricky to pull off and I just don't think Bloch or the narrative world of Psycho are sturdy enough to effectively critique the expansive problems addressed here.
The explanation normally given for that is that Bloch's novel critiqued Hollywood horror films and the producers of the movie did not want to make that movie. The suggestion is that they were offended by Bloch's satirization of them.
That might be the case.
But after reading this, I find it entirely believable that the movie people just didn't like this book simply because it was bad.
The narrative is split between a very standard and silly horror story and the meta satire of the second half.
I'll admit, I wasn't expecting that level of observation from this author so I was a little confused. I thought this would be a straightforward Norman-escapes-and-kills-again story. But once I got on board with the lofty premise, I could appreciate what Bloch was attempting.
Generally, the fault of this book is that the satire is neither sharp nor amusing.
His caricatures of Hollywood producers and performers were flat and repetitive. It was like reading an old Cracked magazine. His concern about the link between greed and violence is valid but he approaches it exclusively in cliche.
The book was too ambitious, I think. This type of thing is very tricky to pull off and I just don't think Bloch or the narrative world of Psycho are sturdy enough to effectively critique the expansive problems addressed here.