THE American obsession with the psychopathic serial killer has reached its apex arriving, as it does here, in fiction for young adults. Of course this age group is no stranger to the murderer as antihero, thanks to film and television. Nor is Robert Cormier a stranger to controversy. Each of his books - including the smash hit The Chocolate War - has dealt with topics such as sex, incest and violence without sugaring the pill that goes down his readers' throats.
In Tenderness (Gollancz, £12.99 in UK) Cormier presents the American nightmare: a coldblooded, terrifyingly manipulative serial killer, "the bad seed". Eric Poole, who murders like a vampire for the feeling it gives him, a "rush of tenderness". At 18 he has already killed three young women as well as his mother and stepfather. When the book opens, he is being set free after serving three years in juvenile detention.
His female foil is Lori Cranston, a disturbed but very likeable 15 year old runaway who is pathologically "fixated" on Eric. The story is told in seamless counterpoint from the perspective of both these characters. By the time they come together, a simple double space separates one narrative from the other.
The question soon arises in the course of the novel: what is Cormier's intention? "A smile for all the stupid people out there with bleeding hearts for all killers." The proposition that childhood abuse creates murderers seems to be dismissed out of hand when the author has his character fake the signs of abuse. More telling is the deliberate contrast of Lori, a loving and humane individual from an unequivocally deprived background.
Cormier also appears to be hammering away at the notion that young offenders of violent crimes should be tried as adults rather than juveniles in order to give them stiffer penalties. It would seem that the author has decided that killers are born, not made. It would seem that he is hoping to encourage a new generation of supporters for capital punishment.
But, herein lies Cormier's particular brand of ingenious sleight of hand and undoubtedly one of the many reasons he is such a popular author; it's a set up. With Eric established firmly as utterly unattractive and irredeemable, lost completely in a psychosis that renders him an inhuman monster, the reader doesn't see the light until the end of the tunnel. And while the details strain credibility somewhat, the dramatic impact of the about face conclusion is undeniable.
ONE can already imagine any teacher's delight as her class is torn apart by arguments for and against Eric's redemption, not to mention the question of whether he had been sexually abused by his mother; the cleverness of Cormier.
He really is the John Grisham of the teen scene with his tautly paced prose, elegant depiction of current brutalities and strong characters created in the style of the best of the bestsellers. This is the kind of work which merits success in its own time, but does not transcend its professional style and topicality to make lasting literature.