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ANALYST, THE
by John Katzenbach
Ballantine, February 2002
576 pages
$7.99
ISBN: 0345426366

The Bantam edition of John Katzenbach's eighth novel, The Analyst, was originally released in 2002. This small paperback (inasmuch as any 640 page novel can ever be described as a 'small paperback') Corgi edition is now available for the less moneyed reader who may have found the original edition too expensive. Katzenbach has (so far) two Edgar Award nominations to his credit as well as the dubious honour of a place on the New York Times bestseller list. His previous books include In the Heat of the Summer, The Traveler, The Day of Reckoning, Just Cause, The Shadow Man , State of Mind, Hart's War, and the non fiction First Born: The Death of Arnold Zeleznik, Age Nine: Murder, Mayhem and What Came After.

The analyst of the title is Dr. Frederick (Ricky) Starks. He is a widower of three years standing. He is presented to the reader as a totally unsympathetic character. His fifty-third birthday sees him walking through the normal procedures of an ordinary work day. The monotony of listening to patients whom he obviously dislikes, is leavened by the thought that he is about to go on vacation to his summer holiday residence at Cape Cod. His plans go awry when, as his last patient leaves, he finds a letter from a person styling himself 'Rumplestiltskin' (sic). The writer proclaims that unless Starks is able to guess the true identity of Rumplestiltskin, whose life the analyst has ruined, or else kills himself within fifteen days , a relative, one of fifty-two listed, will be killed. As proof of his good faith and intentions, Mr. R. (as the villain later becomes known to the analyst) informs Ricky that a message has been delivered to one of the relatives and Starks should discover what it is.

The message, delivered to a fourteen year-old grand niece of the doctor, is sufficiently unpleasant for Ricky to decide the threat is real. The added impetus of the death of one of his patients, an apparent suicide but obviously, to Starks' eyes, as a result of murder, impels him further to take the word of two underlings of Rumplestilskin when they appear to him. A beautiful young woman who introduces herself as'Virgil', calls on Ricky and tells him she is his guide to Hell. Later, he encounters a supposed lawyer, calling himself 'Merlin', involved in bringing a case of professional misconduct against the doctor, who instructs Ricky that he will be destroyed.

Ricky Starks discovers that almost all his assets as well as his reputation have been stripped from him. He is in touch through a series of advertisements with his tormentor while the days tick inexorably away. He seeks help from the man who guided him through his own analysis when he was training but finally realises there is no alternative to the death of Dr. Frederick Starks. This sad affair takes place approximately half way through the book.

This author has been a criminal court reporter for The Miami Herald and Miami News, It would be reasonable to assume, then, that his journalistic training would have bred in him a tendency to keep his word count to a minimum while investing in each word the maximum possible impact. There are many deaths involved in this tale. Much is made of revenge and of the fragility of one's very own persona. When I say 'much', I mean just that. The book, despite its possibilities, becomes a long-winded exposition. There are indeed many breathtaking events but these are all larded with too much description and introverted consideration from the persecuted psycho-analyst. I found it difficult to drum up any sympathy for Dr. Starks although I found his persecutors to be even more abhorrent. The beginning of the tale was tinged with a (i)soupçon of Kafka while the whole was blessed almost with the length of an encyclopaedia. I was astonished at various places to note Dr. Starks, whose list of habits had not included any overt physical training , jogging happily for miles with no obvious effort. Perhaps he is far fitter than I but I know that when I sporadically take up jogging, I have difficulty in covering a single block, let alone a kilometer with any kind of ease. Starks, too, permits himself to be trapped in a position of not daring to contact police on his own behalf. When he does contact police in an attempt to help them understand the death of his patient, he is received with callous rudeness as well as disbelief. Can one believe an American institution is likely to have members behaving thus?

It appears to me that Katzenbach should re-evaluate his style of writing. His earlier work appealed to me, this volume does not. Its incredible (and I use the adjective appropriately) length could be trimmed by hundreds of pages to improve it and its plot straightened to follow less tortuous paths. Perhaps the author's next work may see him resume an interest in more convincing tales - this reviewer certainly hopes so.

Note: This review is based on the Australian edition from Corgi Books, due out on March 3, 2003 $Au21.95 ISBN 0552150843

Reviewed by Denise Wels, February 2003

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Contact: Yvonne Klein (ymk@reviewingtheevidence.com)


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