Libby Day is a mere seven years old when her mother and two
sisters are murdered in what is subsequently termed by the press as “The Satan
Sacrifice of Kinakee, Kansas”. She flees
their farmhouse, the scene of the crime, through a window into freezing weather
conditions. Despite losing a finger and
a number of toes to frostbite as a result, she survives to testify at the trial
of her fifteen year old brother, Ben, who has been accused of the
killings. It is her testimony which
ensures a successful conviction. The
narrative commences twenty five years later, as Ben Day serves his prison
sentence and the deeply troubled Libby seeks to eke out the last remaining
remnants of a trust fund created from public contributions for the
victim/survivor whose situation has now been overtaken in the minds of society
by more recent crimes.
Much like the more recent Gone Girl, Dark Places
utilises fluctuating narrative points of view and swings between both past and
present to clarify the events which have led to the situation within which the
remaining siblings find themselves – the key question being was Ben Day in fact
responsible for the murders of his mother and two sisters and what precisely
took place on that eventful day? The
dual narrative is key to the slow reveal, emphasising the potential fallibility
of memory and recall – particularly when subject to significant trauma;
demonstrating the gaps between what Libby has convinced herself constitutes the
truth and what actually took place.
Unsurprisingly, the two do not always marry up and we therefore find
ourselves in the familiar company of an unreliable narrator – a technique
recently seen to have been utilised to superb effect within Caitlin R.
Kiernan’s The Drowning Girl.
Whilst initially Libby asserts first-hand knowledge of the
identity of the killer of her family, we soon learn she was hiding when the
murders took place – thus, her only knowledge of them stems from what she
heard, as opposed to saw. This contrasts
starkly with what she revealed within her testimony at trial and her assertions
within the decades which have followed.
Soon enough, she has agreed to investigate the murders substantively at
the request of the self-named “Kill Club”, a secret society obsessed with
discussion surrounding notorious crimes – for a fee.
Dark Places is
clearly an evocation of small town life in Midwest America. It is, however, much more than this. Flynn utilises the deaths of familial members
as a catalyst for closer examination of a supremely dysfunctional family and
its constituent parts. In this, no
aspect goes unconsidered. The reader
becomes privy to the troubled marriage of the since separated parents and the
money worries which have led to the disintegration of the family farm and
business, as well as the isolation experienced by their son, Ben, at school and
within his own predominantly female family unit, which leads him down the path
towards becoming the eponymous “troubled teen”.
Ultimately, the reputation he gains himself leads to serious
accusations, even prior to the charges levied against him for murder. Further, one of the daughters takes pleasure
in collecting gossip which can be utilised for potential blackmail purposes to
bolster her sense of self-importance – despite her pre-teen age. Clearly, this raises some interesting
questions concerning how much of the manner in which matters play out results
from the dysfunctional family life we have been privy to and how much the
family becomes subject simply to happenstance and the “wrong place wrong time”
scenario, also opening up scope for debate.
Libby Day herself is a similarly damaged individual; both
physically and figuratively, scarred by the experience of the night from which
she escaped as survivor and its psychological effects. She has become a petty thief and hoarder of
objects garnered from others. She is
also someone who appears to be incapable of holding down a “normal” job – hence
her reliance upon the “Kill Club” fund for her survival. We are informed she has displayed childhood
aggression in the aftermath of the murders.
As such, she resembles the “dark” individuals Flynn chose to examine in
her preceding novel, Sharp Objects;
something she appears to take interest in as an antithesis to more typical
female heroines encountered elsewhere. For some, this will make her
difficult to empathise with, notwithstanding her childhood trauma. (How much of Libby’s inability to move
forwards in life results from the wilful decision not to confront her past and
reiterate the “truth” she knows to be subject to question?) Conversely, for others, this will render her
more realistic, as someone who struggles to overcome the events which have,
ultimately, shaped the individual she has become.
Ultimately, family becomes important in more ways than one,
once it becomes clear that it is not merely the money produced by the “Kill
Club” which motivates Libby’s continued investigation concerning the
murders. Latterly, she admits she would
have continued without the incentive of payment in her search to confirm the
truth surrounding the events of “that night”.
Despite it being clear that her brother is reticent during discussions
with her to reveal the true extent of his knowledge surrounding “that night”,
Libby is also willing to believe in his innocence, if proven – despite her
prior testimony. The contributory
information provided by Libby’s – now homeless – father is also vital to the
continuing investigation. This, too,
points to further evidence in connection with the issue of family which comes
to the fore at the denouement of the novel.
Arguably, events take a turn towards the slightly less
believable in the manner in which the ultimate “reveal” plays out. However, loose ends are suitably well tied up
and the main protagonist, Libby, has demonstrated a move towards a slightly
more functional way of living, having confronted the events of her past.
In conclusion, a satisfying, well-constructed thriller which
delves into the reality of a small town family and the secrets this may
hide. Dark Places also delves into the psychological darkness which may
be left in the aftermath of violent trauma and struggle not to succumb. Both chilling and thought provoking.
