Strangers on a Train by Patricia Highsmith: A review

This is the second of Patricia Highsmith's books that I had on my reading list for the summer. (The first was The Talented Mr. Ripley.) This book was actually her debut novel published in 1950. It was adapted as a screenplay for the classic 1951 movie directed by Alfred Hitchcock. Many years later, I saw the movie as the late show on television one night. It made quite an impression on me at the time, although I can't now recall how closely it followed the book. My vague recollection is that there are differences, but don't hold me to that.

The basic plot of the book - and the movie - is probably pretty well known by most people. After all, it's right there in the title of the book. Two strangers meet on a train. One is a successful architect named Guy Haines. He is unhappily married and hoping to convince his wife not to oppose a divorce. He is anxious for a divorce because he is in love with someone else who he hopes to marry. He is on the train to travel to his hometown in Texas where his wife is living. He will meet with her to discuss the divorce.

The other stranger is Charles Anthony Bruno. Bruno is a certifiable psychopath. That becomes clear early on in their conversation. In addition to being a psychopath, he is an alcoholic, a bad combination. Bruno is obsessed with his mother and he hates his stepfather. As the two men talk, Bruno draws Haines out about his relationship with his wife and points out to him how much simpler his life would be if his wife were not on the scene. There would be no worrying about the legal niceties of divorce; he could simply get on with his life.

It's a short step from this conversation to Bruno's next suggestion: He has an idea for the perfect murder or murders. He could kill Haines' wife and Haines could kill his stepfather. The murders would be perfect because there would be no reason to suspect the killers since they don't know the victims and no one would be aware that the two of them had ever met. Guy is horrified by the suggestion and turns him down. The two part company. A few weeks later Guy's wife is murdered. He knows that Bruno must have done it.

Already a nervous wreck after the death of his wife, Guy becomes even more anxious and apprehensive when Bruno starts contacting him and then stalking him. The pressure becomes intense and it seems that the only way he will get any relief is if he does what Bruno wants and kills his stepfather. Eventually, he gives in and does as Bruno has instructed. That doesn't end it though, because Bruno keeps stalking him, showing up wherever Guy goes. His life becomes a nightmare.

The writing in this book does feel dated. Well, after all, it was written more than seventy years ago. Still, Highsmith excelled at constructing and executing her plot in such a way as to create maximum tension and expectation. One can feel the menace build as the true dimensions of Bruno's psychopathy become evident. Moreover, as the psychological pressure applied to Guy Haines begins to push him over the edge into madness, the suspense keeps mounting. Will he or won't he commit murder? And will they or won't they both get away with it? Is there any clue that would allow a sharp detective to piece the whole story together and bring the miscreants to justice? Read the book and find out!

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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