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68 pages 2 hours read

Gillian Flynn

Dark Places

Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 2009

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Themes

The Psychological Pressures of Poverty and Debt

The psychological pressures of poverty and debt are the main cause of the Day family murders. Financial struggles motivate Patty to engineer her own murder, providing the starting point for the novel’s events. Her intention to have herself killed to ensure her family’s financial stability is not revealed until the end. However, her actions throughout the novel demonstrate how heavily her financial circumstances weigh on her mind and how adversely they affect her mental, physical, and emotional well-being. Len’s description of the bank’s imminent foreclosure shows the direness of Patty’s situation: “Patty, the only way to fix this is money. Now. If you want to keep this place. I’m talking borrow, beg, or steal” (68). The situation pushes Patty to make a desperate, radical decision in the hopes that her children can use the money from her murder to have a better life.

Calvin understands Patty’s situation because he too lost his farm after the Farm Boom of the 1970s came to an end. As Patty explains in Chapter 6, in the early 70s, the value of land was rising. President Nixon’s administration encouraged farmers to borrow and spend aggressively, using the slogan “Plant fencepost to fencepost” (64). Banks gave huge loans with low interest rates to farmers, and many, like the Days, overextended themselves financially. President Carter’s grain embargo against the Soviet Union in 1979 (a response to the Soviets’ invasion of Afghanistan) severely limited the US’s grain market, leaving farmers with limited options. The interest rates on Patty’s loan skyrocket, Runner leaves in 1980, and Len becomes Patty’s loan officer in 1981. Thus, Patty’s entire adult life has been marked by financial pressures that rise until she feels there is no way out. Calvin, who has dedicated his life to “assisted suicide” for those in dire financial straits, is sympathetic; he agrees to murder her for the sake of her family.

Being heavily in debt is one of the reasons for Runner’s erratic behavior. His constant need for money is the reason the Kill Club considers him a suspect: “He goes to Patty, tries to bully her for money, as usual, gets nothing, gets pissed, goes haywire. I mean, the guy was crazy, right?” (37). Runner is a gambling addict, and his addiction forces him into a cycle of making, gambling, and owing money. He sells drugs to support his gambling habit, and he hounds his friends and family for the rest of his money. Flynn does not endow Runner with any redeeming qualities, and his unscrupulousness is part of his personality, rather than a result of his status as a debtor. He does not have the skills or temperament to run the farm successfully and would have likely run away even if the Farm Boom had not collapsed.

Libby’s motivation to reinvestigate the murders is her lack of financial support. In Chapter 3, as she is preparing to sell her family’s personal items, she thinks: “No one should need money this badly” (25). She finds the idea of selling her murdered family members’ belongings to “fans” abhorrent, but it is her only option. In Libby’s case, the fear of poverty—based on her experience growing up in a financially unstable household—forces her to engage in dangerous behavior, such as going to the Kill Convention alone. She even identifies with Krissi working at the strip club, imagining herself in a similarly desperate financial situation.

Though Libby has not secured a steady income by the novel’s end, she is no longer motivated by her fear of poverty. She is freed from the need to engage in activities she finds immoral, and she has a support system in Lyle and Diane, which enables her to look forward to the future.

The Relationship between Emasculation and Violence

Flynn builds suspicion of Ben’s guilt by portraying him as a young man constantly emasculated by the men, women, and girls around him. Living with Patty and his three younger sisters, Ben is surrounded by feminine objects: “The farmhouse had gone girly in the years since Runner left. The curtains, the couches, even the candles were all apricot and lace. Little pink shoes and flowered undies and barrettes cluttered drawers and closets” (18). As a teenage boy, Ben is protective of his privacy, even more so because he feels that nothing in the house reflects his masculine identity. In prison, Ben recalls an incident in which Patty made the kids put a bunny figurine on the toilet lid to indicate that it could not be used until the tank refilled: “I found the bunny, like, it humiliated me or something. Unmanned me. I took it very personally. Like Mom was supposed to find a car figurine or a gun figurine for me to use” (98). Patty and the girls do not intentionally insult Ben, but having no male role model and nothing that reflects his masculine identity makes his home life uncomfortable.

Ben feels emasculated in high school as well. His janitorial job is a clear indication of his family’s poverty, which embarrasses him. Ben does not fit in with his peers, either; he feels especially small in the presence of the male athletic teams and coaches. Ben experiences emasculation in Chapter 8 when the wrestling coach catches him in the locker room: “Ben […] felt himself being categorized and discarded, sectioned off into a group of losers, druggies, wimps, fags. He was sure he heard that word snarl into the coach’s mind” (83). Diondra intentionally humiliates and emasculates Ben. She berates him during sex and acts disgusted with him. Even Runner insults Ben’s manhood, telling him in Chapter 24 that Diondra’s baby is probably not his.

Ben tries to reaffirm his masculinity by playing into gender expectations. He tells lies that make him sound tough and violent, and he participates in Trey and Diondra’s Satanic ritual, even though he is not a Satanist. He tells Runner about Diondra and the baby—an event which becomes significant to the present-day plotline—because he seeks Runner’s approval. Even when he is on trial for his family’s murders, he maintains false bravado: “My thoughts were that of course I’d be acquitted, and then I’d be admired at school for being such a bad-ass” (100). Additionally, he shields Diondra and Crystal by never revealing their involvement in Michelle’s death, emulating the masculine expectation of protecting one’s family.

Despite Ben’s shame at his perceived inadequacy and his violent drawings and ideation, he does not harm any people in the novel. Flynn’s careful construction of Ben as an emasculated young man sets up the expectation that he will overcompensate by using violence against the women who are closest to him. This is sometimes called masculine discrepancy stress or gender role discrepancy stress. Although “[a]ggression can result when a man experiences stress deriving from self-perceived failure to live up to masculine expectations,” violent ideation in young men like Ben does not necessarily mean they will always commit violence (“Harmful Masculinity and Violence.” American Psychological Association, 2018).

Flynn guides the narrative to imply that, in Ben’s case, there is a link to his violent thoughts and the Day murders. Flynn balances these suggestions with hints toward his innocence, such as the many misunderstandings that arise because he hides his relationship with Diondra. In the end, two women—Diondra and Patty—are responsible for the events of the night, and Diondra is revealed to be the most violent character in the book. Ben’s emasculation, and his subsequent attempts to negate his feelings of shame, are thus red herrings.

The Objectification of Victims in True Crime Culture

Dark Places explores society’s fascination with true crime and the ways in which popular culture objectifies the real-life victims. Libby experiences objectification from an early age from the media after her family’s murders. Newspapers and magazines run stories like “Little Libby’s Brand New Day: The Lone Survivor of the Prairie Massacre Turns a Bittersweet 10” and “Brave Baby Day’s Sweet 16!” to follow Libby as she grows up (2). Before the age of social media, tabloid journalism served stories like Libby’s to the public as analog click-bait: “Me, still miniature, my face aglow with birthday candles, my shirt too tight over breasts that had gone D-cup that year, comic-book sized on my tiny frame, ridiculous, porny” (2). Libby profited from these stories because they resulted in people donating to her fund, but her description of the photo that accompanies the story on her 16th birthday indicates a lurid fascination from the public that does not come from a place of goodwill.

This theme arises in the present day when Libby tracks down Barb Eichel, author of a book about Libby’s family’s murders. Barb, who was fully immersed in the Satanic Panic of the 1980s, openly apologizes to Libby for writing the book. Although Ben had already been found guilty by the time the book came out, Barb acknowledges its influence on public perception of him, which she heavily regrets now that she no longer believes in his guilt. Barb’s actions—both the book and her present-day remorse—show the fleeting nature of public interest in crime and immoral behavior; her description of the Satanic Panic as “trendy” applies to true crime culture in general, as evidenced by the Kill Convention and the media attention on Lisette Stephens’s disappearance.

The Kill Convention epitomizes true-crime culture’s sensationalizing of murder and the resulting objectification of victims: “Booth 22: Hoardin’ Lizzie Borden! Collectible items for sale or swap! Booth 28: Karla Brown—Bite Marks Discussion. Booth 14: Role Play—Interrogate Casey Anthony! 15: Tom’s Terrible Treats—Now serving Jonestown Punch and Sweet Fanny Adams!” (28). The carnival atmosphere makes the murders seem like a form of entertainment or a game that convention-goers can play. Lyle’s booth—“Talk about a Bad Day!”—treats Libby’s family’s murders the same way, referring to her as a “Special, Special GUEST!!!” (28). This recalls the celebrity treatment she received as a child and shows a distinct lack of respect for her personhood. For Libby, this theme directly intertwines with The Psychological Pressures of Poverty and Debt; donations to her fund have run out because her case is no longer new and interesting, and the fear of poverty forces Libby to engage with true-crime culture so that she can commodify her trauma.

During their discussion, the members of Lyle’s group treat Libby coldly, without considering the emotional toll the murders have taken on her. They are more concerned with proving their points about the case’s deficiencies than they are about her mental and emotional well-being. The convention-goers’ desire to buy items belonging to murderers and victims further shows that they treat real people’s suffering as a hobby. There are even members of the true crime community—the Free Day Society—who are “fans” of Ben; they write to him in prison the way people might send fan letters to celebrities. The overwhelming interest in Lisette Stephens’s disappearance is perhaps the greatest example of true crime culture objectifying a victim because “there [is] nothing to solve: She had no boyfriend, no husband, no upset coworkers, […]. She just vanished for no reason anyone could think of, except she was pretty” (31). Because Lisette is attractive, people are interested in her. Her disappearance has even been merchandized: Her booth carries sweatshirts and decals that read “Bring Lisette Home.”

Flynn’s Kill Convention is a parody of true crime culture: In its grotesque role plays and sensationalized depictions of crimes, the culture’s worst elements are on display. However, true-crime enthusiasts are key to solving the murders. Lyle and his group are instrumental in helping Libby solve the Day case, and solvers at the Kill Convention are the first to posit the existence of the Angel of Debt. Lyle and the Kill Club guide Libby’s journey and provide key pieces of information that Libby, whether because of her youth, trauma, or lack of involvement, could not possibly know. Lyle, who relates to Libby’s situation, eventually shifts away from being a simple true-crime enthusiast to someone who genuinely wants to help Libby find closure. Flynn’s message is not that interest in true crime automatically leads to objectifying victims, but the danger of doing so is high when murders are treated as entertainment.

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