Preliminary Thoughts: Perfidia

James Ellroy has, I believe, written an autobiography called My Dark Places.

I really don’t read autobiographies because, aside from they’re apparently all fake, reflective insight is often unreliable. That said, I sort of think I have read Ellroy’s because what else could you call any of his other books?

They’re all about serious men disabled by creeping obsession as necessary to reconcile Ellroy’s byzantine plots with history. That is, they’re character-driven at the beginning but not at the ending, which is also a way of describing obsession.

Perfidia wastes very little time introducing this dynamic, which I would not call promising.


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