publication date: 2001
Dead Until Dark was the first book of the Sookie Stackhouse novels, which were the basis for the HBO show True Blood. I haven’t seen True Blood, so I don’t know how close the show reproduced the book. Dead Until Dark introduced Sookie Stackhouse, a dotty, Louisiana waitress who had a few secrets tucked away. First, she could read minds and second, she wanted to meet a vampire. Lucky for Sookie, the world created by Harris in Dead Until Dark conveniently included vampires – a subset of humans who had recently come out from the collective coffin a few years before we met Sookie at Merlotte’s bar.
The book was a mashup of genres: mystery, romance, fantasy, gothic, humor. Unfortunately, Harris didn’t represent any given genre very competently, although the combination did create a generally compelling story. It was a quick read, and I was intrigued enough, although I couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
The book was supposed to be quirky and funny. Sometimes that worked, like when Harris named the fictional local gas station the “Grabbit Kwik.” Often, it did not work, as in this description of a person whose mind Sookie was attempting to read:
I couldn’t hear his thoughts as clearly as I could other people’s. I’d had waves of impressions of how he was feeling, but not thoughts. More like wearing a mood ring than getting a fax.
The book was also supposed to be sexy. The sexiness, which was often odd and blunt, surprisingly worked for me. One of the first things that a vampire said to Sookie, after she surrounded her neck and arms with anti-vampire metal chains because she didn’t trust him not to bite her, was:
“But there’s a juicy artery in your groin,” he said after a pause to regroup, his voice as slithery as a snake on a slide.
Although reading Dead Until Dark was usually painless and uncomplicated, the book left much to be desired. The dialogue was pretty bad. There was this scene, where a character was trying to convince Sookie that she wouldn’t be able to read his mind:
[He said, “Would that be] relaxing to you?”
“Oh, yes.” I meant it from my heart.
“Can you hear me, Sookie?”
“I don’t want to try!” I said hastily. . . . “I’ll have to quit if I read your mind, Sam! I like you, I like it here.”
Also, the action was often confusing and underwhelming. And, although Harris peppered the book with some passages that reminded the reader that the book was set in the South, generally, Harris’s lack of effective description seemed like a waste of the rich Southern setting.
Although the book wasn’t terrible, it didn’t intrigue me enough to induce me to read the other books in the series or to watch the TV show.
3/6: more good than bad