A Deputy Gone Mad

The Killer Inside Me

Jim Thompson

Quill; 188 pages; $3.50.

IT MIGHT BE a cliche of psychology to say that each individual fights an internal battle between having to obey the norms of society and wanting to go on a murderous rampage, eliminating all the petty annoyances of life. There are stories aplenty of people--the Babbits and the Rambos--in whom one side of that internal battle has won.

It takes a certain kind of daring, however, to imagine what happens when both sides of the battle win. And that's exactly what Jim Thompson does in The Killer Inside Me. He creates a twisted small-town sheriff, a man who acts without morality or guilt but maintains the appearance of complete normalcy.

Everybody in town likes Deputy Sheriff Lou Ford, the kind of guy who'll always lend a hand and is good with the children. Sure, he's a little intense sometimes, but no more than most people. But Lou Ford is far weirder than the people of Central City think. He's losing his ability to control "the sickness." Recent events have brought back the urge to kill and to purge himself of his twisted past.

Originally written in the '50s and now a cult classic, the story is dark and morbid. Thompson has created an eerie character in Lou Ford, a nice normal guy with a devious and demented psychology lying just below the surface.

First-person narrator of his own story, Lou Ford detachedly watches the world; he laughes cynically and patronizingly at the problems of the rest of the population. He mingles with others, but sees most people as playthings to be used or observed. The rest of the world is annoying or, at best, ridiculously pathetic.

I've loated around the streets sometimes, leaned against a store front with my hat pushed back and one boot hooked back around the other--hell, you've probably seen me if you've ever been out this way--I've stood like that, looking nice and friendly and stupid, like I wouldn't piss if my pants were on fire. And all the time I'm laughing myself sick inside. Just watching the people.

Thompson writes with humor, and experiences a certain amount of cynical amusement himself. At first the seriousness of the book is lost amid a series of cliches about Southern life. As the corrupt mayor, the high school sweetheart and the bumbling policeman are introduced, the book begins as a condemnation of the incestousness and stifling boredom of small-town America.

THE BOOK BECOMES far more than a parody, however. Though the characters are never believable, they become increasingly intense and compelling. You never sympathize with Lou Ford, or even completely understand what's going on inside his head, but you're fascinated by his warped mind and morbidly curious about his next move. You quickly lose your detached amusement.

The most frightening part of Lou Ford is that he realizes how twisted he is. He cannot control his mind, but he's intelligent enough to hide himself from the public. What sets the book apart from others of its kind, is the contrast between the dialogue and the description of Lou's thoughts. He speaks normally and politely while his mind is racing ahead, repulsed and amused by the stupidity and petty concerns of the people around him.

The Killer Inside Me leaves you feeling depressed and sick. The world seen through the eyes of a cool psychopathic killer is not a pleasant one. When you finish, you'll need some reassurance that your world is still normal. But it's all worth it. Thompson draws you unexpectedly into a mind probably very unlike your own.