Book Review - 'The Alienist' by Caleb Carr

‘The Alienist’ by Caleb Carr (cover featuring the stars of the TV series)

This year, I’ve decided to finally get started with the still-not-read books I’ve had on my bookshelf for some time now and re-read some I haven’t read for years.

A few years ago, when I still had a ‘Netflix’ subscription, I came across a short series that piqued my interest called ‘The Alienist’, made by TNT partnered with Paramount who’d bought the film rights.

I confess, the title led me to believe it was to do with aliens; that plus the period costumes in the still image are what compelled me to watch.

The opening corrected my interpretation of ‘alienist’ by informing me that before the 20th century, ‘persons suffering from mental illness where thought to be “alienated”, not only from the rest of society but from their own true natures. Those persons who studied mental pathologies were therefore known as alienists.’

I still decided to give it a go and was glad I did.

On discovering it was based on a book, published in 1994, I eventually bought it and finally got around to reading it.

‘New York city, 1896. Hypocrisy in high places is rife, police corruption commonplace, and a brutal killer is terrorising young male prostitutes.
Forensics and psychological profiling are still in their infancy, but as the body count rises, Police Commissioner Theodore Roosevelt calls on eminent psychologist or ‘alienist’ Dr Laszlo Kreizler and crime reporter John Schuyler Moore to trial these new methods.
Kreizler, Moore and their team must venture to the darkest corners of New York – and the human mind – to catch the sadistic killer before they strike again.’

The story, narrated in first person by John Moore, begins in 1919 after he’s attended the funeral of a dear friend, and that prompts him to recount ‘the spring of 1896… a series of events that still seems too bizarre to have occurred even in this city.’

He decides its time ‘to tell the whole thing, going back to that first grisly night and that first butchered body…’

Moore then recalls when ‘the whole thing’ began, ‘… at two o’clock on the morning of March 3, 1896…’ when he was woken by ‘an ungodly pummeling on the door of my grandmother’s house…’ and he ends up being whisked away to a horrific murder site.

There, we’re introduced to the police commissioner, Theodore Roosevelt… yes, that Theodore Roosevelt; he did, indeed, serve on and was the president of the board of police commissioners.

Roosevelt and Moore had been at Harvard together and had maintained their friendship.

The nightmarish remains of the murder victim, a young male prostitute, is such that Moore almost passes out.

When he’s pulled himself together, Roosevelt tells him Laszlo Kreizler has already been at the scene and has left a note and a report; Kreizler had also been at Harvard with them.

The note simply states, ‘Roosevelt: terrible errors have been made. I will be available in the morning… We should begin – there is a timetable.’

And that basically sets the stage for the story, which covers investigating the murders of young boy-prostitutes by a phantom-like assailant who leaves no clues and seems able to gain the trust of his victims.

Roosevelt agrees to let Kreizler and Moore work in secret because of the rampant corruption present in the police force, which he’s intent on removing, and their liaison is his secretary, Sara Howard, an old friend of Moore’s.
‘Sara’s taste in dresses ran toward simple designs in shades of green that matched her eyes, and the one she wore that day… showed off her tall, athletic body to advantage. Her face was… handsomely plain; it was the play of eyes and mouth, back and forth between mischievous and sad, that made it such a delight to watch her.’

Assisting them are two brothers, Detective Sergeant Lucius and Sergeant Marcus Isaacson, who both specialise in criminal science and forensic medicine.

Marcus Isaacson’s ‘Semitic features were quite handsome – strong nose, steady brown eyes, and a good head of curling hair.’

Lucius, on the other hand, is shorter with ‘small eyes, a fleshy face that was beaded with sweat, and thinning hair.’

Another reason the team have to work in secret is because of Kreizler’s reputation – his unusual methods are considered too outlandish by many, especially those in positions of power – and because there appear to be forces which don’t want any attention on the murders at all and will seemingly do whatever it takes to ensure that.

Laszlo Kreizler is of German descent but was raised in America:
‘… he was reading the music notices in the Times. His black eyes, so much like a large bird’s, flitted about the paper as he shifted from one foot to the other in sudden, quick movements. He held the Times in his right hand, and his left arm, underdeveloped as the result of a childhood injury, was pulled in close to his body. The left hand occasionally rose to swipe at his neatly trimmed mustache and the small patch of beard under his lower lip. His dark hair, cut far too long to meet the fashion of the day, and swept back on his head, was moist, for he always went hatless; and this, along with the bobbing of his face at the pages… only increased the impression of some hungry, restless hawk determined to wring satisfaction from the worrisome world around him.’

It was only as I was getting to the end of the book, did I realise I hadn’t done what I always do – make a note of any passages I particularly like.

Caleb Carr is a military historian and author who’s written non-fiction and fiction, and although ‘The Alienist’ is technically his second work of fiction, it won the 1995 Anthony Award for Best First Novel.

I’d describe Carr’s style as straightforward, which I personally feel suits this genre.

He doesn’t shrink from grisly descriptions, though he sometimes goes into so much detail, it ended up giving me the opposite than intended effect; instead of being appalled, I found myself just skimming over the details.

Having started his writing career as a historian, the amount of research Carr has done should come as no surprise as he gives the reader an authentic view and feel of 1896 New York.

But – and this is a big ‘but’ – it’s as if he was so excited with his research, he’s included what seems like all of it in the book.

One example is when Moore and Sara come ‘face-to-face with the foppishly dressed, cologne-drenched, enormous figure of Biff Ellison, as well as his smaller, more tastefully clad, and less aromatic criminal overseer, Paul Kelly.’

Both men are part of the criminal underworld, and Carr interrupts the story to give us their background, which covers a page and a quarter, though it’s still part of Moore’s narration.

A few pages later, the present-day narration is interrupted once again as Moore explains how he, Roosevelt and Kreizler met at Harvard, which covers – I kid you not – four pages.

We’re even introduced to Roosevelt’s (at that time) five children, not fleetingly, but with extensive descriptions even though that is the only time they appear, and their presence does nothing to advance the story.

I lost count of the number of times the flow of the actual story – the investigation – was interrupted by what fast became, for me, superfluous trivia.

My paperback version is about 530 pages, and I personally think I’d have been more engrossed in the story if the page count had been less with the bulk of these descriptions kept to a minimum.

The only reason I kept going is because, thanks to the series, I knew what was going to happen, and, despite the differences between that and the book, I still wanted to see how the story played out in the book.

And, I have to say, despite the build-up, the ending was anti-climactic.

As for the characters, I found the on-screen versions more compelling than their book versions, even Sara who in the book is more friendly than the tv version; her guarded, taciturn nature on-screen is more convincing as a late-19th century woman navigating a male-dominated setting.

Interestingly, despite the number of differences between the book and the series, Carr is named in the series writing credits.

Considering this book has sold millions, garnering a huge number of rave reviews, I know I’m in the minority with my review of ‘The Alienist’, but this is one of the rare instances where I enjoyed the TV series a lot more than the book.

Before I end this, I want to mention a personal little gripe about the copy I have – when buying books that have been made into films/TV series, I always prefer the original covers and not the ones that feature the actors, but, in this case, I couldn’t find one with the original cover.

And for those who are interested about the actors featured on the cover, Daniel Brühl played Dr Laszlo Kreizler, Luke Evans played John Moore, and Dakota Fanning played Sara Howard.