The most horrifying thing about Jack Ketchum's The Girl Next Door is that it is based on a true incident - horrendous abuse, torture and eventual murder of the 16 year old Sylvia Likens in 1965. Sylvia's parents, carnival workers who moved often, left her and her sister in Indianapolis under care of their acquaintaince, Gertrude Baniszewski. Baniszewski was paid to care for the girls, but as the payments were late she began to abuse the young girls, focusing the torrents of her anger on Sylvia. Details of this abuse are too horrible to recount, but what is horrifying is that Baniszewski openly encouraged her own children and those of the neighbors to indulge in tormenting Sylvia on their own, imprisoning her in the basement. Although Baniszewski's daughter, Paula, would not only brag about it in public but also beat Sylvia in front of the neighbors, nobody did anything to stop it or help her in any way - Sylvia eventually died from her extensive injuries.I did not know about this before I read the book - in fact, I approached it without knowing anything about it. I have only read one novel by Jack Ketchum before, Off Season, which is a visceral, gruesome horror novel featuring a tribe of cannibals and some very unlucky vacationers somewhere in remote woods in Maine (the same state where Stephen King lives and sets most of his work). Although it has plenty of intense and graphic violence, Off Season lacks pretty much everything else, which made it a rather disappointing reading experience for this reader.The Girl Next Door is a much better book, because in it Ketchum does what he didn't do in Off Season - develop a proper build up and characters, and establish tension which lasts almost all throughout the novel. The narrator of the novel, David, writes it down as a recollection of events which happened a long time ago, when he was growing up in a small town. Although David is a successful financier on Wall Street, he has two failed marriages behind him already, and is at the eve of the third - he is filled with sadness, regret and guilt, haunted and gradually destroyed by events which took place thirty years ago. To an outsider, David's childhood was a relatively normal experience of a young boy growing up in a small town in the 1950's. Although he can see that his parents have marital troubles and knows of his fathers's affairs, he has a circle of friends who live right next door to him - the Chandler boys who live with their mother, Ruth. Their father left the family for another woman, leaving Ruth alone to take care of the three boys. Everyone at the street loved to hang out at Ruth's place - even though she kept her boys in line, she also gave them beers and let them enjoy themselves; David and his friends felt good at Ruth's place, because it was a place where they could be themselves, and feel natural - in David's case more so than at home. Although David does not consider his childhood to be special in any way, there is no suggestion that he is unhappy - he camped with his friends in a real tent, listened to Elvis on a record player, smoked cigarettes and drank beers in secret. In another life his childhood recollection would be much more in tune with the novel's idyllic opening image: a young boy lying down next to a clear brook in a picturesque forest, catching crayfish on a bright, sunny day.The woods and the brook are both the opening of the book, and the end of David's childhood: this is where he meets Meg Loughlin, whom he declares to be the prettiest girl that he ever saw. David is smitten with Meg, and confused by her - she is older than other girls that he knows, and his feelings towards her are different. He longs and yearns for something when he sees her, but doesn't exactly know what; Ketchum manages to capture the butterflies of youthful infatuation in his net - David learns that Meg is a distant relative of the Chandler's, and that she will be moving in with them together with her younger sister, Susan, after they both lost their parents in a car accident. The accident left Meg with a scar, and Susan crippled - unable to walk without her crutches. David is even more impressed with Meg as a survivor: he manages to overcome his shyness and ask her to go to the local carnival with him, where they share several sweet and memorable moments. In another life, these moments could develop into a beautiful romance; here, they are a prelude to a great tragedy.The problem with novels based on real events is that we know what will eventually happen, and it is no great surprise when it finally does. This is also the case with The Girl Next Door, but does not ruin the book. Ketchum does a very good job with establishing a slow buildup, with proper foreshadowing in all the right places. The specter of horror hangs over the book, and when it finally descends it begins slow, but quickly becomes almost unimaginable. The fact that The Girl Next Door was inspired by the murder of Sylvia Likens does not cheapen it, or make it exploitative - Meg is not Sylvia, and Ruth is not Gertrude. There have been hundreds, if not thousands, of such cases all over the worldThere are two big Whys in this book - why did Ruth begin abusing Meg and her sister? Was she jealous of her youth and beauty, which painfully reminded her of her own age and hardships which tore away at her looks? Did Meg remind her of her husband, who ran away with a woman who could have been her? Did she think that her boys might become interested in Meg more than they were in her? Did she not want her authority questioned, both as a parent and a woman? I think this question is not adequately answered - but then again we see Ruth only from David's perspective, and although he sees her at her house he mostly spends time with her boys, and does not live with them. David acknowledges that he does not understand why she did what she did - destroyed a young girl.The other big why regards the Chandler children and David - why did they participate in the abuse and grew increasingly more ferocious, and why did David do nothing to stop them and stood idly by? How could the Chandlers horribly abuse and torture Meg, and at the same time go on with their lives as if this was a perfectly ordinary thing to happen?Although David does not take part in the abuse of Meg, he does not do anything to stop it or tell his own parents - until it is too late. Besides Meg and Susan who are both obvious innocents, David is the only decent character in the entire book - yet he is not without his flaws and desires, which he himself acknowledges: he peeps on Meg with the other boys, waiting for her to undress in her room, and when she doesn't even show up he is furious - and begins to hate her for it, as if she disappointed him, owed him her nakedness. When he does see Meg naked and in captivity, he is overcome with desire to touch her.His saving grace is that he doesn't touch Meg, but his condemnation is that he doesn't stop others from touching her, and doing worse things. Of all the youths in the book, David is the only character who is at first taken aback by Meg's treatment, and eventually sees what is happening to her as something terribly wrong. He is the only boy who sympathizes with Meg, and who feels ashamed at what is happening and his own role in it - but this knowledge, or conscience if you will, makes him even more guilty than those who took part in her abuse. The Chandler children did it all under the watchful eye of their mother - if she would order them to stop, they would stop immediately. If she'd forbid them from hurting her, they would not hurt her. But Ruth did not only not stop her sons from torturing Meg, she actively encouraged it and took part in it herself. David acknowledges that this torment was Ruth's show - her presence hangs above them like a ghost, even when she is not in the room with them. Although Ruth set a series of rules which would justify the abuse -as much for the boys, as for herself - these rules eventually collapsed together with her sanity, and all the bets were off. Still, even then, she watched over everything - and everything was possible because she allowed it to be so.Should we hate David? Condemn him for not helping Meg, not telling others about her torment? It is easy for us to be outraged, even furious with him, by being entirely removed from his position and enriched by hindsight. Could David possibly know what would happen to the sweet girl he first saw at the brook? David does not have anyone to talk to - he understand that talking to other kids is pointless; although they knew that something was happening at Ruth's house - some vaguely, others with specific detail - not a single one of them had any opinion about it. It was like a force of nature; there was no point in discussing something that can't be influenced.In fact, it was not the torment that was a force of nature, but the fact that it took place under the watch and guidance of an adult. In the small, suburban community in the 1950's, adults controlled all aspects of lives of children: adults were the ultimate authority, and what they said could not be questioned. This was the social order on which many today look fondly upon: children wouldn't even dare to challenge the actions of their parents and other adults, and corporal punishment was not only openly accepted but actively encouraged. This was the whole point of it: kids were supposed to be punished by adults; they were supposed to be subservient to them, and obey them unquestioningly. Parental love was not supposed to be easy and selfless, but exactly the opposite. It was supposed to be tough love, which would adequately prepare children for many hardships which would await them in the world. Kids had to be straightened out, made into proper men and women. At one point David acknowledges that kids belong to their parents, "body and soul... we were just kids. We were property". David is conflicted. If Ruth is an adult, a parent of his best friends and now a parental figure for Meg, then who is he to judge that what she is doing is wrong? How can he know that what she is doing to Meg now will not turn out to have been right in the future after all? He still feels attracted to Meg, but Ruth and her children are his old friends, who were always good to him. In a memorable scene, David sees Meg approach a police officer to complain about her mistreatment. Along with the other kids who witness the scene, David feels a sense of betrayal - how could she tell on them, and to an adult? - and peculiar, scared excitement - how could she upset the social order, and tell on an adult on another adult? - but the police officer brushes her away; he is a part of the society, and in this society children do not question their parents, much less tell on them to others. He tells Meg she should think of Mrs. Chandler as her mother, and that her mother would probably treat her the same way. Who's to say?", he asks, and does precisely nothing - for which Ruth mocks and torments Meg later, telling her that she deserves punishment for trying to snitch on her. Shouldn't snitches be punished? David tries to talk to his father, but he is no good. When David asks his father if it is ever right to hit a woman, he realizes that with his evasive and non-committal answers his father is trying to justify his own lashing out at his mother, which led to the coldness and distance between them. It becomes apparent that David's father does not know his own son, and that David is unable to connect with his father; mostly he feels nothing for him, and if he does feel any emotion it is usually contempt. Later in the book, David tries to tell his mother - but realizes that he cannot; although she is the only person he can tell, he realizes that by his own indifference he also took part in Meg's torment, and is unable to tell this to her. He realizes that he has betrayed Meg, and sees himself as evil - Does he fear that this is how his mother will also see him, or does he fear that this is who he actually is?We were juveniles, writes David at the end of the book, as if legal classification could offer any explanation. By now it is obvious that this entire writing is not really meant for any reader, but for himself; he confesses to everything that happened now because he did not then, but just as then there is no person who can help him now. He is alone and realizes this, plagued by recurring nightmares of his own failure to act, which destroy his relationships and life. This is where the true horror of this book lies - not description of torture and abuse. They actually are not as graphic as I expected them to be - they are horrific, but Ketchum doesn't focus on them. I can easily see many instances in which this book could have easily turned into simple, schlock horror, but violence is limited to an effective but not overbearing level. The actual horror is the gradually emerging sense of complicity in something terrible - and the fact that David uses as a poor attempt at consoling himself at the beginning, but which makes things infinitely worse: "That it was happening all over, not just at Ruth's house but everywhere."
I spent a while debating whether to give this book 4 or 5 stars but eventually I realised that all the reasons I wanted to give it 4 stars were why it deserved 5. The book made me feel disturbed, angry, frustrated, depressed, nervous, stressed, horrified, and the fact that it managed to achieve all of this is proof of how well written this book is and what a fantastic job the author did of actually provoking these emotions and responses to the book. The story itself is horrible but so is the true story of the real life event, which is another thing that makes this book so scary. The fact that people like this exist in the world is a difficult fact to swallow and, as someone that generally believes the best in people and chooses to see the good things in life over the bad, having this shoved in your face does a good job of trying to ruin that. Ruth Chandler is one of the most terrifying villains that I've ever read about and so are her sons and the other neighbourhood kids, and this stems from the fact that they are the kind of 'ordinary' people that you probably have known or do know in life and would never expect this kind of thing from. It's further evidence that you never truly know who is capable of such terrible things. Now for some spoilers as there are a few things I need to get off my chest:(view spoiler)[ While I was pleased at the end that Ruth received, and I felt like it gave the reader a feeling of some kind of justice, the fact that Willie, Donny, Woofer, Eddie and Denise got off so lightly and the reasons for this absolutely infuriated me! I just couldn't believe that it would be believed by everyone that as they are under 18 they are not completely in control of their own behaviour. Also, that once her sons turn 18 it will be completely destroyed from their records as 'the child's act could not be held against the man'. What?! No! I know that it's true to life in the fact that in real life the people that tortured and murdered Sylvia Likens (the real life Meg) got off very lightly and only two people actually served time for it, but I was really hoping that the author would give us some kind of justice against them too! Now, onto David. We are shown that his experience has left him with strong, crippling guilt that has followed him throughout his life and we are also made aware that he reached a point of realisation that everything they'd done was wrong however, I found that by that point, I didn't care about him or his feelings. He sat by and somehow didn't realise how wrong all those horrific acts were until after most of them had been committed. I fail to understand this. He was just incredibly dumb and naive (?) the entire time, from when Meg was trying to tell him how horrible Ruth already was and he ignored her and sided with Ruth to when they were all torturing her and keeping her in the basement and he still just did nothing. Eventually he tries to help her and stands up for her but by then I already had such an anger towards him that I still hated him. His one and only redeeming factor was pushing Ruth and causing her death!The only people I truly rooted for were Meg and Susan, as it should be, but Meg was doomed from the start which I already knew but then at the end I was left with such an overwhelming sadness for Meg and everything that happened to her and the loss of such a young and innocent life and for Susan and everything that she had to go through and would then be left to carry with her throughout the rest of her life. Susan's innocence was also lost and I wanted to know that everything turned out well for Susan but it's hard to imagine that it would, she must have been left with so many deep psychological issues that it would've been incredibly hard for her to ever fully get past all of that, although hopefully she did or would be able to. (hide spoiler)]
Do You like book The Girl Next Door (2005)?
Here's another long lingering gaze upon our inhuman humanity for everyone who is still labouring under the delusion that there might be a tiny shred, maybe just a single thread, something, anything, of common decency to be found in the vast majority of ordinary people. Jack Ketchum's here to tell you - sorry. There's not. This novel is based on a real crime which took place in 1965. JK relocates it to 1958 and, creepily, as if this tale needs more creep, which it doesn't, to his home town - to his home street. To the house next door, in fact! I'll give you the gist of the whole thing so you can see that this is another book you don't need to read, which since they've made a movie of it, is also a film you don't need to see. The time I'm saving you all!The story is based closely on the Sylvia Likens case, which I hadn't heard of, and now I have, and I wish I hadn't. So anyone with any desire to maintain their delusions of common decency and humanity should look away now. Sylvia was 16. Her parents were carnies, always moving, always parking the kids with relatives. In this case they parked her and her sister with an acquaintance, no more than that, called Gertrude Baniszewski who lived in Indianapolis and had a whole bunch of her own kids and was dirt poor, an asthmatic, a depressive, and as it turned out, deranged. Sylvia very quickly became the concentrated scapegoat hate-figure for this sadistic woman. But more than that, Gertrude encouraged her own sons and their punk friends to join in with the torment. It took them a few months to torture Sylvia to death. They were reasonably creative. No one in the merry group of torturers told anyone in authority, neighbours didn't notice a thing. When Sylvia died one of Gertrude's daughters finally freaked out and dropped a dime otherwise I guess we would never know. The whole family was rounded up and Gertrude was given life. She got out in 1985 and died in 1990.JK introduces an explanation of Gertrude's psychology (in his novel she's called Ruth Chandler) which is that she was a pathological hater of young women because they tormented her with their innocence and prettiness to such a pitch that she had to hand out lessons in how the world really is, what sort of suffering women have to endure, how they're all really sluts, and so forth. So something must have occurred in her own life to drive her to this pitch of malignity, clearly. It's clear to me that the right people never go to therapy :Patient No 1 : I keep having flashbacks to when my mother used to give me cheese sandwiches for my school lunch when she knew I hated cheese. Therapist : Okay, that's it, get out of my office.Patient No 2 : I have all these fantasies about chopping guy's heads off. Therapist : Do you think that's because your mother gave you cheese sandwiches when you were a kid?Patient No 2 : That's right doc - I didn't remember that until just now - this is a real breakthrough.Therapist : We're doing great work, Jeff. I'll see you next week - and remember - no more dismembering young gay men!Patient No 2 : (grinning somewhat shamefacedly) Aw, okayyyy... Er - back to the book. So this story is a horrible one, but it has so many resonances, (leaving aside the mythical older-woman-seeks-to-destroy-younger – this cruelty rings and chimes and vibrates down through the centuries past the Countess Bathory all the way to Snow White and Cinderella and beyond). But take Stanley Milgram’s famous electric shock experiment, which was inspired by the Eichmann trial, and sought to investigate how regular ordinary people would inflict terrible pain and suffering on other humans because someone in authority told them to – simple as that. A guy tells you to turn up the dial to 500 volts and zap the wrongdoer, and you know this will seriously injure him, but hey, the guy asking you to do this is wearing a white coat, and you’re in a laboratory, so sure, turn the dial and hear the guy scream! We can connect that with Christopher Browning’s brilliant investigation of who actually shot all those Jews in all those Polish forests – his book is called “Ordinary Men” – of course, because that’s who it was. And on a more Girl Next Door level, I remember the movie River’s Edge (1986) in which some 16 year old guy kills a 14 year old girl and brags about it to all his friends and takes them to see the body. After a few days one of them called the cops. That was based on a real case too. Oh, of course, there’s “Whatever Mother Says” which is very similar to the Girl Next Door and which I reviewed already. There's a pattern I'm seeing here.You’re never going to prevent deranged individuals doing cruel things. But what troubles our sleep and poisons our dreams is that it’s so easy, it seems, for them to get us, average us, friendly us, to join in.
—Paul Bryant
I've read many accounts of crimes that are as horrible as (and sometimes even more horrible than) the terrible things that happen in this book, both in terms of real-life non-fiction crimes and in visceral thrillers. The voyeuristic, no-accountability POV in which this story was presented, however, relegates it to nothing more than straight out, uninspired shlock horror. Even then, the most gruesome parts are skated over and related in such a no-frills way that the book doesn't even succeed in being a genuine shock to your emotions, except in the most clinical of ways. More than anything else, it is distasteful that the most authentically written aspect of the book seems to be the narrator's feelings of lust and shame towards the victims (as well as some delusions of empowerment), and that so little time was spent exploring any other emotion--and that includes cruelty, hate, entitlement, fear, pity, and remorse. When I read violent fiction, I'm not at all a fan of torture porn for the sake of it--and to me, neither the writing nor the story in this book were enough to make it any more than that.
—Wendy Darling
This is one of the leanest, nastiest books I've ever read. I consume a good deal of horror fiction, but this one really took some fortitude to get through certain sequences. It tells a fictionalized account of the torture and murder of Sylvia Likens. Here's something from the wikipedia entry on the case:Sylvia Marie Likens (January 3, 1949 - October 26, 1965) was tortured to death by Gertrude Baniszewski (née Van Fossan), her children, and other children from their neighborhood. Her parents, carnival workers, had left Sylvia and her sister Jenny in the care of the Baniszewski family three months before her death in exchange for twenty dollars a week. Her torture and murder were described by the prosecutor in Baniszewski's trial as "the most terrible crime ever committed in the state of Indiana." Feminist author Kate Millett wrote a famous true crime book about this case called The Basement. But I must say, between the two books, I feel like it is Ketchum that gets closer to the true motivations of the torturers. Of course he has the luxury of making up whatever he wants, but his explanation of why a group of teenage boys in 1950's Indiana would take part in the summer long torture of a girl kept locked up in a bomb shelter is utterly convincing. This book is grim, but it's haunted me since I read it.
—Thomas
