
by Reeva S. Simon
This perennial Western fear, that of a resurgent Islam, is a part of the Western historical memory. The sword-wielding Muslim thundering across the Straits of Gibraltar or laying siege to Vienna, the Old Man of the Mountain’s Assassins high on drugs launched to kill political leaders, white slavers, and Barbary pirates have been reincarnated as plane hijackers, embassy bombers, and nefarious creators of long gas lines. In the fiction of the “paranoid†and “vicious†categories, the conspiracy, the hero, and the villain are basic elements for thriller/spy novel success…
Thus, in fiction, anyone’s life can have meaning in the anonymous industrial and terrifying nuclear age. The reader identifies with the hero whose exploits become his own, and the fictional conspiracy becomes a personal threat on a world scale. Beating the gas lines during an oil embargo is transformed via fiction into vicarious vengeance against the villains, perceived as wealthy petrosheikhs who have created the oil crisis. But identification of the villain alone is not enough. In order to be thoroughly imbued with evil and to maintain credibility as a villain, the villain must be an impersonal figure; he is a stereotype; he mirrors the reader’s personal prejudices and fears. Only then is the reader hooked his villainy as he must also be on the hero’s noble character to such a degree that he can instantly and unconsciously root for the salvation of one and the damnation of the other. Continue reading It’s a Crime, Especially in Fiction






