Micro-Review #32: Hannibal

by Thomas Harris

There’s no joy in giving a book a bad review, but sometimes the book is so bad that it would be literary malpractice not to. The third book in the Hannibal Lecter trilogy was published back in 1999 to mixed reviews, which is surprising because the thing is execrable. The characters and conflicts are beyond contrived, the middle third of the book is an irritating advertisement for the wonders of Italy, and the ending is possibly the most ludicrous thing ever written (this point can’t be overstated; “ludicrous” is probably too soft of a word). It’s as if someone ate Clarice Starling’s liver with fava beans and a nice Chianti, then barfed it out, then the barf decided to write a novel. Avoid this book unless you want to punish yourself for something. Reviewed on Feb. 11, 2021

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