In Cold Blood
The cold-blooded murder
of four members of the Clutter family by Richard Hicocks and Perry Smith
The First Edition (1965)
I found this
a deeply ‘uncomfortable-to-read’ book; not just because it was a detailed
report of four particularly gruesome murders, but because of a growing unease
about Capote’s motives and veracity - apparently,
he claimed his memory retention for verbatim conversations was "over
90%". I am afraid, like many others at the time and since, I don’t believe
him. I found myself underlining examples where I thought romance had taken
wings over factual reporting. Certainly, folk interviewed by Capote (e.g. Mrs
Meier, the sheriff’s wife) went on record later as saying they, too often, had
a different version of events. He is not popular in Kansas.
Inevitably,
only one ‘side’ in the immediate drama could be interviewed: The Clutters were
dead. I wouldn’t go so far as to say the Clutters were caricatured - a few
writers, with socio-political axes to grind have portrayed the family as the symbol of a class manipulating and
perverting other human lives; but Capote is, surely, on the side of the
romantic, the quixotic, the hard-done-by, as opposed to the money-minded
business class – Perry Smith versus the Clutters. The have-nots juxtaposed with
the haves? The poetry loving, abused Smith versus well-off, cushioned Herb
Clutter? Capote quoted from Perry Smith’s prison Diary, I heard man say (on the radio) the
county attorney will seek Death Penalty. ‘The rich never hang. Only the poor
and friendless.’
Penguin Edition, 1966 (28th printing)
Why do I
think this? Let me return to my
underlinings. (I read the Penguin edition above) and they usually refer to Perry
Smith:
(p.255) * Smith is in the sheriff’s cell. The
topmost branches of a snow-laden elm brushed against the windows of the ladies’
cell. Squirrels lived in the tree, and after weeks of tempting them with
leftover breakfast scraps, Perry lured one off a branch on to the window sill
and through the bars. He named it Red, and Red soon settled down, apparently content
to share his friend’s captivity…he sketched portraits of Red, drew flowers, and
the face of Jesus… (p.260)
still in the cell. Except for the
squirrel, except for the Meiers and an occasional consultation with his lawyer,
Mr Fleming, Perry was very much alone” (p.273) at
the trial. Wearing an open-necked shirt
(borrowed from Mr Meier) and blue jeans rolled up at the cuffs, he (Perry)
looked as lonely and inappropriate as a seagull in a wheatfield.
(p. 340) Smith’s
sensitive eyes gazed gravely at the
surrounding faces, swerved up to the shadowy hangman (the latter also
described as anonymous leathery who impatiently lifted his cowboy hat and settled it again, a gesture somehow
reminiscent of a turkey buzzard huffing…) Who’s the ‘baddie’ here?
Compare
these extracts, with the seven-word skewering of one of the legal prosecutors
(p. 292): A citric smile bent Green’s
tiny lips.
Truman Capote
All my
examples come from the final section of the book – The Corner – because it was by this section (pp. 252-343) that I
felt Capote had lost whatever objectivity he had had originally. He was empathising
far more with the perpetrators (especially Smith) than he was with the victims.
On page 300,
Capote quotes from a psychiatric journal of the time about Smith-like
criminals: All of them, too, had been
concerned throughout their early years about being considered ‘sissies’,
physically undersized or sickly… Here was empathy writ large – a mirror portrait of the author himself
(he was actually shorter than Smith!).
Fine; but
don’t maintain you are writing a purely factual account.
Pluses? The alternating storylines in the
early part of the book do heighten tension, even though the reader knows what’s
coming. Drawn out descriptions of (even bit-part) people and surroundings delay
the tragic central event to dramatic effect. Good novelist’s touches – but for
a novel, not a true reconstruction of an horrific event. Throughout
the book, Capote’s use of adjectives is skilfully employed to draw the reader
to one point of view. Capote is a compelling writer, but he is writing a dramatic piece with moments of persuasive
embellishment.
Footnote.
In April
2005, Nancy Clutter’s boyfriend, Bob Rupp (then in his 60s), remembered Capote
pestering him with questions. He had still not read ‘In Cold Blood’ and never intended to. Four years later - on the 50th
anniversary of the murders - a first cousin of Nancy’s, Diana Selso Edwards,
wrote a newspaper article recalling the first time she had read Capote's book.
I was angry and disappointed. The
Clutters became cardboard figures, hardly more than a backdrop for Capote's
sympathetic depiction of the killers. I felt powerless to correct his version
of the truth.
On 28th
November 1966, Capote had hosted his famous Black & White Ball at
Manhattan′s Plaza Hotel (a book written a decade ago about it called it ‘The
Party of the Century’). It was launched on the back of the phenomenal success
of ‘In Cold Blood’ – it was to be the
self–promoting, social–climbing apex for Capote, in all its preening glory. The
‘male nymphet’ (as he had been described next to his photo on his first book
dust wrapper) had earned millions - around $6 million in 1960s money - from the
story of the Kansas murders; one feels he equally earned the rapid decline that
set in soon after the party. He expired, aged 59 (11 more years than Herb
Clutter had enjoyed) in 1984, after decades of drug abuse and alcoholism. His
identification with ‘disenfranchised
loners’ was complete.
Later Postscript!
I wrote the
above immediately after finishing the book – on 26th December.
I have subsequently
watched two films: Capote (2005) and In Cold Blood (1967). Philip Seymour
Hoffman, a compelling actor (who, ironically, also died of a drug-induced
background - aged 46), was the Capote I imagined. My wife said at the
end of the DVD, “what an obnoxious man”! The latter film was shot very
effectively in black and white and conveyed the dark, brooding, ‘cold’ reality
of the unnerving events in grim detail. It helped that most of the scenes were shot
on the actual locations, including the Clutter residence and where Smith and
Hickock were executed (moreover, seven original members of 12 jurors and the
real hangman replayed their parts on the screen). The film could not have been
made without Capote’s novel, but, to me at least, it was strangely more
effective/compelling because it did not ape his ‘poetry’ (poetic
licence? partiality?).
Columbia Pictures, 1967
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