Use Grammarly to correct grammar because you can’t tell people to learn to speak English unless you know the difference between “your” and “you’re”. Warning: Lynne Bubbles does not endorse telling other people to “learn to speak English,” nor is Lynne Bubbles responsible for someone disliking you because you told him/her to learn to speak English via Tweet, Facebook message, face-to-face, or any other form of communication.
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
I wasn’t sure where to begin with this abomination of a book. I was a fan of the show up to about season 4 and was always an avid reader of the books. For the past three years I’ve maintained that the books are far superior to whatever the show was concocting. As the show has come to a close and the title and the ending of this book implies this is the final novel, I can’t decide which incarnation botched the conclusion of a once great series more.
This book is an insult to readers in general, to the characters, to women, but most importantly to the series itself. Dexter used to be likeable. Sure, he was a serial killer, but he only killed other killers and he had a certain charm and wit that made him relatable. All that has been stripped away in this book to be replaced with a Dexter that is unlikeable at best and downright despicable at his worst moments.
As for this book’s insulting messages to women, there’s just so much to choose from. First, I’ve always loved that Dexter was an asexual character. It added a fascinating and plausible accent to his personality. In this book, Lindsay throws it away for the chance to throw in gratuitous sex in the second half of the book. Even if Dexter had suddenly found his sexuality with some plain Jane it would have been better than what we were handed. Dexter suddenly discovers his sexuality through some beautiful, glamorous movie star while he starts to mentally note how Rita is starting to get lines around the corner of her eyes. How dare she?! Why would women ever let themselves get wrinkles? We’re supposed to stay youthful forever!
It’s called “aging,” Dexter, and it’s something that’s going to happen to your precious little star one day as well. Maybe much later in life thanks to technology and money, but it will still happen. This suggests that asexual people just need to find someone desirable enough to stir their loins and that only a select handful of women are truly desirable. I can only hope that Dexter’s change of personality and terrible treatment of women was all in an attempt to make us swallow the ending, by turning him into Despicable Douche Dexter. Oh, look, I can randomly capitalize three words in a row as well! Yes, I understand that it has always been a stable in the series, but in this book it seemed so random most of the time that it became obnoxious.
As for the plot, well, there is none. The murder plot is wrapped up about halfway through the novel while Dexter cruises on through his new star-studded life, while the real conflict doesn’t actually show up until the last third of the book. Even then Dexter misses so much of the clues that some readers might not even realize what the main conflict was until thirty pages from the end of the book.
A disappointing end to a once great series.