"She was a hollow creature into whose head had been poured evil philosophies that she couldn't have brewed in the cauldron of her own intellect; and if in her formative years she had been exposed to a gentler and humbler school of thought, she might have been the committed healer that now she only pretended to be. She was plates and platters of plights and pickles; she was ice cream therapy; but although she was worthy of being loathed and even of being abhorred, she was too pathetic to merit hatred."
For centuries, argument has raged over what is known as the nature/nurture controversy. In starkest terms, the nature side argues that people are born with moral sense while nurture theorists hold that the mind of the newborn human infant is a blank slate that needs writing, an empty hole into which moral sense must be poured by parents, family, and members of the community. Now comes novelist Dean Koontz, who aims to settle the antique debate by arguing both sides of the issue. Koontz apparently believes (and wants readers to believe) that some folks (Laura) are born with moral sense while others (Wendy) must be taught.
Now I'm not here to argue that Koontz's position is wrong or that it's right. I just want to point out that nobody knows for sure how moral sense is installed in children just as nobody knows for sure which system of morals is the proper system to install. What is certain is that the position Koontz takes entails some weighty consequences.
Suppose, for example, that moral sense is a worthy asset. Many people would agree that is so. If it is so, then many people will consider he or she who is born with moral sense a à ‚¬Ëœbetter' person who is genetically superior to those born without moral sense.
Run down that line of reasoning, it turns into a slippery slope that ends à ‚¬" willy-nilly à ‚¬" in a mire of racism or sexism or some other lethal prejudice. One group feels entitled to lord it over the others, and how can anyone decide with certainty who belongs in which group?
In the real world, those who think themselves qualified to make such decisions are called à ‚¬Ëœbigots.' And that's where thinking of the sort that Koontz wrote into this book will always lead those who think in that way.
Those who read One Door Away, if they pay attention to what they're reading, will see that Mr. Koontz is already fighting a bigot's crusade. Throughout the awful, didactic screed that he and his fans are pleased to call a novel, Koontz rails against moral relativism, against Utilitarianism and Utilitarian bioethics, against euthanasia, against news media, against Hollywood film-makers, and hosts of other folk whose beliefs or behaviors demonstrate (in Koontz's eyes, at least) some moral imperfection or laxity because of which they merit à ‚¬Ëœloathing and abhorrence.'
Look back for a moment at Koontz's treatment of Wendy Quail: ". . . if in her formative years she had been exposed to a gentler and humbler school of thought, she might have been the committed healer that now she only pretended to be." Koontz doesn't even allow the possibility that if Wendy believes in what she is doing then she does not à ‚¬Ëœpretend' to be a committed healer because she truly believes herself to be one and probably does her best to act accordingly. The one way, Wendy is guilty of fraud and deserves to be punished. The other way, Wendy is merely mistaken and deserves to be corrected and given another chance. Koontz is all for punishment. I would he were a little less certain.
Faulty Language
Regarding Koontz's use of language in the passage on Wendy Quail: I have never knowingly seen an object called a à ‚¬Ëœplight' Neither have I seen a plate of plights nor a platter of those items, whatever in the world à ‚¬Ëœplights' might actually be. Pickles I have seen and enjoyed, and pickles are good if they're made from a good recipe. So far as I know, however, I've never met a person who was "plates and platters of pickles." And again: so far as I know, I've never met a person made of ice cream therapy and none of the ice cream in my freezer has been to therapy à ‚¬" though some of those new à ‚¬ËœBen & Jerry' flavors look as if they could take a slow walk through three months in detox without sweating the carton.
Mysterious, misapplied, comestible metaphors aside, my New Shorter Oxford English Dictionary tells me that the preferred definition of à ‚¬Ëœabhor' is to "Regard with disgust and hatred" and that to 'loathe' a thing is, preferredly, to treat it in a "hateful, displeasing or offensive" manner. Things being so, I expect it would be difficult to à ‚¬Ëœloathe' and à ‚¬Ëœabhor' Wendy Quail without feeling some hatred for her à ‚¬" if she à ‚¬Ëœmerits' hatred it or if she doesn't.
This from p. 376:
"Cass moved in the highest levels of Hollywood society, where she had eventually calculated that of the entire pool of successful actors, directors, studio executives, and producers, 6.5 percent were sane and good, 4.5 percent were sane and evil, and 89 percent were insane and evil. In accumulating the experience to make this assessment, she had learned to recognize a series of eye expressions, facial ticks [sic], and body-language quirks . . . that unfailingly alerted her to the maddest of the mad and to the most monstrously wicked of the wicked. . . ."
Cass and her sister are the heroines of this book. They are voluptuously beautiful, deadly, and virtuous to a fault (In 606 pages, neither of à ‚¬Ëœem gets laid). It seems, then, there are two lessons to draw from that particular tale: one being that in Koontz's estimation, morbid paranoia is a desirable asset; the other being that we should ignore facial tics but beware facial ticks, which are known to carry Lyme disease.
Other boners, as bad or worse than we've seen here, are scattered throughout the book. Those who read above the level of children are struck by such things. Dean Koontz fans evidently don't mind them at all.
Faulty Plot
For centuries, argument has raged over what is known as the nature/nurture controversy. In starkest terms, the nature side argues that people are born with moral sense while nurture theorists hold that the mind of the newborn human infant is a blank slate that needs writing, an empty hole into which moral sense must be poured by parents, family, and members of the community. Now comes novelist Dean Koontz, who aims to settle the antique debate by arguing both sides of the issue. Koontz apparently believes (and wants readers to believe) that some folks (Laura) are born with moral sense while others (Wendy) must be taught.
Now I'm not here to argue that Koontz's position is wrong or that it's right. I just want to point out that nobody knows for sure how moral sense is installed in children just as nobody knows for sure which system of morals is the proper system to install. What is certain is that the position Koontz takes entails some weighty consequences.
Suppose, for example, that moral sense is a worthy asset. Many people would agree that is so. If it is so, then many people will consider he or she who is born with moral sense a à ‚¬Ëœbetter' person who is genetically superior to those born without moral sense.
In the real world, those who think themselves qualified to make such decisions are called à ‚¬Ëœbigots.' And that's where thinking of the sort that Koontz wrote into this book will always lead those who think in that way.
Those who read One Door Away, if they pay attention to what they're reading, will see that Mr. Koontz is already fighting a bigot's crusade. Throughout the awful, didactic screed that he and his fans are pleased to call a novel, Koontz rails against moral relativism, against Utilitarianism and Utilitarian bioethics, against euthanasia, against news media, against Hollywood film-makers, and hosts of other folk whose beliefs or behaviors demonstrate (in Koontz's eyes, at least) some moral imperfection or laxity because of which they merit à ‚¬Ëœloathing and abhorrence.'
Look back for a moment at Koontz's treatment of Wendy Quail: ". . . if in her formative years she had been exposed to a gentler and humbler school of thought, she might have been the committed healer that now she only pretended to be." Koontz doesn't even allow the possibility that if Wendy believes in what she is doing then she does not à ‚¬Ëœpretend' to be a committed healer because she truly believes herself to be one and probably does her best to act accordingly. The one way, Wendy is guilty of fraud and deserves to be punished. The other way, Wendy is merely mistaken and deserves to be corrected and given another chance. Koontz is all for punishment. I would he were a little less certain.
Faulty Language
Regarding Koontz's use of language in the passage on Wendy Quail: I have never knowingly seen an object called a à ‚¬Ëœplight' Neither have I seen a plate of plights nor a platter of those items, whatever in the world à ‚¬Ëœplights' might actually be. Pickles I have seen and enjoyed, and pickles are good if they're made from a good recipe. So far as I know, however, I've never met a person who was "plates and platters of pickles." And again: so far as I know, I've never met a person made of ice cream therapy and none of the ice cream in my freezer has been to therapy à ‚¬" though some of those new à ‚¬ËœBen & Jerry' flavors look as if they could take a slow walk through three months in detox without sweating the carton.
Mysterious, misapplied, comestible metaphors aside, my New Shorter Oxford English Dictionary tells me that the preferred definition of à ‚¬Ëœabhor' is to "Regard with disgust and hatred" and that to 'loathe' a thing is, preferredly, to treat it in a "hateful, displeasing or offensive" manner. Things being so, I expect it would be difficult to à ‚¬Ëœloathe' and à ‚¬Ëœabhor' Wendy Quail without feeling some hatred for her à ‚¬" if she à ‚¬Ëœmerits' hatred it or if she doesn't.
This from p. 376:
"Cass moved in the highest levels of Hollywood society, where she had eventually calculated that of the entire pool of successful actors, directors, studio executives, and producers, 6.5 percent were sane and good, 4.5 percent were sane and evil, and 89 percent were insane and evil. In accumulating the experience to make this assessment, she had learned to recognize a series of eye expressions, facial ticks [sic], and body-language quirks . . . that unfailingly alerted her to the maddest of the mad and to the most monstrously wicked of the wicked. . . ."
Cass and her sister are the heroines of this book. They are voluptuously beautiful, deadly, and virtuous to a fault (In 606 pages, neither of à ‚¬Ëœem gets laid). It seems, then, there are two lessons to draw from that particular tale: one being that in Koontz's estimation, morbid paranoia is a desirable asset; the other being that we should ignore facial tics but beware facial ticks, which are known to carry Lyme disease.
Other boners, as bad or worse than we've seen here, are scattered throughout the book. Those who read above the level of children are struck by such things. Dean Koontz fans evidently don't mind them at all.
Faulty Plot
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