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Jimmy William Malmborg 9780615795287 Books

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Jimmy William Malmborg 9780615795287 Books

Horror is the ultimate example of the genre where anything goes, right? Rape, cannibalism, incest… we writers will gleefully shatter every taboo, and you readers will lap it up.
But what, after all, is the purpose of horror? Is it to wallow in sublimated sadism, or to exorcise our fears by laying them all out in the most literal and grotesque fashion imaginable?
I would argue that there is a line between pointless horror-for-horror’s-sake, and horror with a literary, artistic, and moral purpose. Yes, don’t laugh: I said horror with a moral purpose, not a nihilistic gorefest.
The line is by no means an easy one to draw. At the start of this short essay, I mentioned certain subjects still widely considered taboo. Yet rape is an all-too-common real-world experience, and the taboo against even discussing it merely adds shame to the victims’ suffering and increases the rapists’ power through mystification. So the line can’t be drawn to exclude this entire area of experience. It has to be in the treatment of sexual violence, in the purpose the writer has in mind.
Which brings me to William Malmborg’s Jimmy. I am fascinated by the trope of the girl or young woman held captive and menaced with rape and murder, and I invoke it in my first horror novel, All Souls Day. Margaret Atwood has written on the old legend of Bluebeard, apparently based on a historical case from medieval France, in which a cruel feudal lord marries a virtuous young lady but warns her not to explore certain rooms in his castle. She violates this prohibition and discovers the remains of his previous wives. Her husband is about to murder her in turn when her brothers burst in and rescue her.
Malmborg’s novel takes the modern form of a male perpetrator, in this case a high-school student who is the titular Jimmy, holding female captives in a secret lair. This specific trope is so common that Tina Fey used it to comic effect in the hit Neflix series “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.” There’s precious little to laugh about in Jimmy, however. Instead there is an awful slog through Jimmy’s kidnapping and graphically detailed rape of two of his classmates, Samantha and Megan, and his eventual murder of the latter. I see the novel praised online for depicting the victims’ point of view, and its boldness and “realism” in portraying the perpetrator’s motives, but I was left unconvinced on either score, and this despite the fact that Malmborg unquestionably is a talented writer, enough so for me to finish this repulsive work.
Aren’t I contradicting myself here? Isn’t fine writing its own justification, no matter its content? Not in my view. George Orwell, in an essay on Salvador Dali, pins down the disjuncture between art and morality, and the refusal of the modern “nonjudgmental” sensibility to police it, when he writes, “If you say that Dali, though a brilliant draughtsman, is a dirty little scoundrel, you are looked upon as a savage.”
In brief, Malmborg’s Samantha and Megan are cardboard characters whose suffering we are not made to identify with, despite their mechanically depicted bravery (Megan falls victim to Jimmy when she is out searching for Samantha). Nor is Jimmy a convincing portrait of a violent rapist. We are supposed to believe that he became one merely through viewing sadomasochistic pornography and a bit of sexual role-play with his babysitter, even though he has never engaged in any kind of violence before in his life? Nope, not buying it. One is forced to the conclusion that Jimmy itself is nothing more than skillfully constructed, violent pornography, the real purpose of which is the lovingly detailed sexual violence.
By contrast, consider the late Jack Ketchum’s classic The Girl Next Door. Based on a horrific real-life crime, this novel depicts the sadistic, sexualized torture and murder of an innocent teenage girl by her guardian, Ruth, who encourages neighborhood children to come to her basement and abuse the victim. The torment the victim Meg endures in this book is actually worse than that of Jimmy’s victims, because it is more prolonged, and Ketchum’s novel is arguably a more disturbing read. But that is in part because we see events from the perspective of David, a boy who fails to help Meg and as a result is consumed with guilt for the rest of his life. The author reflects in an introduction on his loathing for the psychopaths like Ruth who walk among us, preying on the innocent. This is not cheap moralizing, it is the purpose of this book. And that makes all the difference.


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Jimmy William Malmborg 9780615795287 Books Reviews

I downloaded this book some time ago, while it was free. Last year to be exact, and while it stood several moths sitting idle on my device, I will admit to that, and shamefully so, it was a fantastic novel of violence and terror. Another writer I read recommended it on a podcast, and it sounded familiar so I looked and there it was. I forgot getting it, and jumped right in. Jimmy isn't your normal psychopath, he is a teenager and just starting out in life. Which makes his "problems" bittersweet, and the reader can empathize with his inner conflict as he struggles with his conflicting desires. That being said, do not mess with Jimmy, because you wont like the results. He is a bit of a sociopath and is disturbingly violent in nature. Much of this book is graphic, dark and disturmbing. I knew that from the moment I downloaded the book so all the people who have criticised this book for it being graphic and disturbing should not have even downloaded it. This was a button turner for sure, and I highly recommend this book for anyone who likes this genre of book and wants to be introduced to a new talent.
So I enjoyed this book up until about 3/4 of the way through, when I realized that the author had no message he was trying to convey. The way the book ends just leaves you feeling like you wasted your time, it's almost like the story was told just to tell a story, not to leave any lasting remarks on any of the potential themes the author could have gone into. The characters are not fleshed out enough for you to understand them, and there are quite a few moments when the author chickens out of crossing the line that would have made this book memorable. Sad because there is so much potential for something greater in the idea of the story, but nothing was ever expanded on.
Let me tell you this - if this review seems short & boring, it is because the Product Review Dictator's keep removing my post from this story!
This will be my 4th attempt. I still have no idea WHAT is making them say "Nuh uh, not this time! Try again!" But, here we are.
When the line between fantasy and reality is crossed, there is no turning back to the way things used to be. Since turning the Hood's abandoned fall out shelter into his private dungeon, and kidnapping Samantha King & Megan Reed, Jimmy Hawthorne is learning this lesson first-hand. It doesn't take long before real life intrudes, and his fantasy of having his very own 'slaves' reminds him of the rabbit he didn't like taking care of as a kid. Renacting his favorite scenes from bondage sites and fetish videos only get him so far. As the thrill and excitement wane, he considers just sealing up the shelter and walking away. But, he knows that he would still be drawn to them. Even in death, the call will always be stronger than his will.
Real life contains the regular intrusions as well. a new girlfriend, [Tina], the d-bag classmates [Brett, Matt, and Paulie], who try to play the `bully' role, and a younger brother, [Alan], who's perception is just short of Hercule Poirot's. The local police presence is growing, and his school prom is just around the corner. All these things combined make for one kick 'butt' and intense story!
Disgusting book. Irritated that I lost money on this purchase. The extremely detailed description of every single masturbation and the results of it is disgusting. What kind of an adult writes a book like this about teens? It is not creative or suspenseful in any way. What a waste.
This book not only gets you in the mind of the kidnapped girls but also the kidnapper.. It is not for the faint of heart. The ending I was not expecting... It was a good book.
Horror is the ultimate example of the genre where anything goes, right? Rape, cannibalism, incest… we writers will gleefully shatter every taboo, and you readers will lap it up.
But what, after all, is the purpose of horror? Is it to wallow in sublimated sadism, or to exorcise our fears by laying them all out in the most literal and grotesque fashion imaginable?
I would argue that there is a line between pointless horror-for-horror’s-sake, and horror with a literary, artistic, and moral purpose. Yes, don’t laugh I said horror with a moral purpose, not a nihilistic gorefest.
The line is by no means an easy one to draw. At the start of this short essay, I mentioned certain subjects still widely considered taboo. Yet rape is an all-too-common real-world experience, and the taboo against even discussing it merely adds shame to the victims’ suffering and increases the rapists’ power through mystification. So the line can’t be drawn to exclude this entire area of experience. It has to be in the treatment of sexual violence, in the purpose the writer has in mind.
Which brings me to William Malmborg’s Jimmy. I am fascinated by the trope of the girl or young woman held captive and menaced with rape and murder, and I invoke it in my first horror novel, All Souls Day. Margaret Atwood has written on the old legend of Bluebeard, apparently based on a historical case from medieval France, in which a cruel feudal lord marries a virtuous young lady but warns her not to explore certain rooms in his castle. She violates this prohibition and discovers the remains of his previous wives. Her husband is about to murder her in turn when her brothers burst in and rescue her.
Malmborg’s novel takes the modern form of a male perpetrator, in this case a high-school student who is the titular Jimmy, holding female captives in a secret lair. This specific trope is so common that Tina Fey used it to comic effect in the hit Neflix series “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.” There’s precious little to laugh about in Jimmy, however. Instead there is an awful slog through Jimmy’s kidnapping and graphically detailed rape of two of his classmates, Samantha and Megan, and his eventual murder of the latter. I see the novel praised online for depicting the victims’ point of view, and its boldness and “realism” in portraying the perpetrator’s motives, but I was left unconvinced on either score, and this despite the fact that Malmborg unquestionably is a talented writer, enough so for me to finish this repulsive work.
Aren’t I contradicting myself here? Isn’t fine writing its own justification, no matter its content? Not in my view. George Orwell, in an essay on Salvador Dali, pins down the disjuncture between art and morality, and the refusal of the modern “nonjudgmental” sensibility to police it, when he writes, “If you say that Dali, though a brilliant draughtsman, is a dirty little scoundrel, you are looked upon as a savage.”
In brief, Malmborg’s Samantha and Megan are cardboard characters whose suffering we are not made to identify with, despite their mechanically depicted bravery (Megan falls victim to Jimmy when she is out searching for Samantha). Nor is Jimmy a convincing portrait of a violent rapist. We are supposed to believe that he became one merely through viewing sadomasochistic pornography and a bit of sexual role-play with his babysitter, even though he has never engaged in any kind of violence before in his life? Nope, not buying it. One is forced to the conclusion that Jimmy itself is nothing more than skillfully constructed, violent pornography, the real purpose of which is the lovingly detailed sexual violence.
By contrast, consider the late Jack Ketchum’s classic The Girl Next Door. Based on a horrific real-life crime, this novel depicts the sadistic, sexualized torture and murder of an innocent teenage girl by her guardian, Ruth, who encourages neighborhood children to come to her basement and abuse the victim. The torment the victim Meg endures in this book is actually worse than that of Jimmy’s victims, because it is more prolonged, and Ketchum’s novel is arguably a more disturbing read. But that is in part because we see events from the perspective of David, a boy who fails to help Meg and as a result is consumed with guilt for the rest of his life. The author reflects in an introduction on his loathing for the psychopaths like Ruth who walk among us, preying on the innocent. This is not cheap moralizing, it is the purpose of this book. And that makes all the difference.