The
Face of Fear (1977)
This was the first Koontz book I read, something
like eight years ago. The bare fact that since then I've read a consistent
bunch of his works should be a sufficient proof that it must have something
good. I just reread it, so that this review wouldn't be spoiled by glitches of
my memory, and it took me just a couple of days to finish it again. What's this
supposed to mean? Well, just that it is an extremely easy, fast and amusing
read. That's what struck me the first time, that feeling of being so carried
away by the words that you just can't help diving head-first through the pages,
finding yourself more than halfway through it in the twinkling of an eye.
Graham Harris is a former mountain
climber whose last incident on the Everest has bequeathed him a crippled leg, a
fragile personality and a psychic ability that's as disturbing as it is
unbidden for. Now he's found love and he's called it quits with climbings,
helping the police from time to time with his "power" to feel the
traces left after a murderous act. One night, though, Graham senses and
predicts live on a TV show the last, impending homicide performed by the
blood-stained hand of The Butcher, a serial killer who's been terrorizing the
city for weeks. Graham is a danger to the villain, now, so he's bound to be his
next target.
As I said, this is undoubtedly
entertaining. Now that I've read much more, on the other hand, I can also see
that we are a far cry from a top-notch work, here. The characters are well
depicted but when DK probes repeatedly into the fears and motivations of the
three main characters you might get the feeling to be attending a lecture of
homespun psychology. Love as a means to help each other throughout the most
dangerous predicaments is a cross thread in DK's production, but in "The
Face of Fear" it acquires a sort of corny shade, leading the characters to
a couple of choices that are not completely believable. Moreover, the theme of
the serial killer acting in the name of a superior race, surfacing right after
the first pages, has somehow lost its grip nowadays (Koontz himself resorted to
it more than once in some of his following bestsellers) so you may find the
killer and his lucubrations to be a trifle stereotyped.
Maybe I'm being a bit too stern, though,
here, and the last thing I want is
putting you off reading this roller-coaster ride of a book. If you approach
this thriller without expecting multifaceted characters or an intricated plot,
then you're certainly in for a tasty little treat. A not so predictable
denouement and a huge, unrestrained chase scene that could easily rival the
ones of other, more famous classics are among the distinctive features of this
early DK's effort.
Definitely worth a read for a few hours
of sheer fun. To be guzzled in one long swig, possibly late at night, during a
rampageous blizzard! 7 ½ /10