Ha. Finished it.
The idea of Dexter being some sort of avenging angel for those whose assailants could somehow not be apprehended and dealt with by the law in the proper way certainly is a novel one but not a very well portrayed or thought-out one in this case.
Dexter, according to himself in his endless interior monologue, is a monster and classes himself as distinctly
not human, unlike everyone around him. This annoys me. A lot. I know that in the media criminal offenders are often labelled as "monsters", what they have done is terrible but they are still human. Dexter plays into this, making the criminal so markedly different from ordinary people insomuch that he is no longer human but an evil entity.
Incidentally, the notion of him not being human is contradicted throughout the novel, especially when he is interacting with Deb.
As I posted before, the narrative style isn't the best. Lindsay appears to be incapable of writing paragraphs longer than three lines (on my Kindle!), all consisting of very short sentences. And then there's the alliteration…
And the Need was very strong now, very careful cold coiled creeping crackly cocked and ready.
OK. So he is describing "the Need" which, except for strong, is also a series of words starting with the letter c, words which could've been used to describe a cold-hearted criminal (see what I did there?) Just c's, you ask? O no, no, no, Lindsay knows a bunch of d-words, too:
Deeply dead Dexter dating debutante doxies
Does this even make sense? Seriously, I get the point, the guy is a bit of a weirdo, a freak, but I'm pretty sure he's not in the habit of spending his lonely evenings curled up in a comfy chair with the Oxford English Dictionary on his lap to pick out all words starting with C or D to describe himself or that pesky Dark Passenger.
Aside from alliteration, Lindsay is fond of describing the same scene with the same set of emotions for Dexter, the same wordings even. For instance, every time Dexter sees one of the victims bloodless bodies he becomes dizzy. And not just any ordinary run-of-the-mill type of dizzy, o not in the slightest, he is always only "just a little dizzy". The same happens when Dexter goes out for a drive: he comments on the traffic being "lethal", or gives it another murderous adjective, either prior to getting into his car or after he has survived another commute.
As a final point of annoyance, and this is a major one: Dexter is portrayed as having some sort of other-wordly intelligence (any normal person might mistake it for common sense, but not the characters in this book). Everyone except Dexter is exceptionally dim-witted. LaGuerta is insensitive about anything going on around her except for handling the politics going on at the police station, at this she is an expert. Deborah is incapable of coming to the most simple conclusions, even if the evidence is right in front of her face it has to be practically spelled out for her to understand it.
Literally everyone in the novel is an imbecile to the point that it surprises me that they are able to perform the most mundane tasks and haven't forgotten to eat. Everyone else's stupidity helps to make Dexter's intelligence shine out, he is smarter than everybody else. The one time Deborah does have a good idea, namely to have another look at the ice rink, Dexter immediately concludes that "You're right, the arena. You are right for all the wrong reasons, but still -" (I'll overlook the fact that it is absolutely impossible for Dexter to know how exactly Deborah got the idea of going to the arena again).
I don't think I'll read any more of the Dexter series. I do enjoy the TV series, in it the characters surrounding Dexter aren't as annoyingly obtuse and Dexter himself isn't quite so annoyingly smarter than everyone else.
perhaps 2.5, I'm feeling the tiniest bit generous.
I do apologise if this seems a bit of a long ramble.