Blog 7 - "In Cold Blood"

“In Cold Blood,” a revolution in literary journalism of its time, manages to blend elements of fiction and journalism. The end result is a startlingly captivating montage of events that captures both the hearts and minds of the reader. In the video post of Capote discussing “In Cold Blood, the author adamantly said that the subject matter (ie: crime) is incidental, and that the truly interesting part of the book is how it “sets out to explore an unexplored literary medium.” Using dialogue, scene-by-scene construction, and status detail, Capote successfully captures what reportage, literary journalism and creative non-fiction all have in common: “a concern for the telling of true stories with the concrete detail of dialogue and description – the classic ‘show not tell’ of good narrative prose” (Susan Greenburg). 

Dialogue

In the introduction to the “Art of Fact” entry to “In Cold Blood,” the authors note the “stickiness” that comes with recreation in literary journalism and the question of true remembrance on the part of those claiming what was said after the fact. However, the authors argue that, “it is undisputable that Capote, with his novelist’s ear, heard what the characters could have said and transcribed it more faithfully than any journalist before or since.” [Note: Even though I am a now-devoted fan of Truman Capote, that still seems like a bit of a stretch; however, I think it is as close to the truth as any person has come or will ever come in this particular case. That is not to say that I believe the dialogue – especially that between Perry and Dick – can possibly be even close to exact.] Capote uses dialogue as a way to define his characters through both building and expanding on each character’s “true self” and as a method of getting inside their minds and transcribing its contents for the reader. In relation to the “true self,” Capote uses dialogue to capture the essence of each character while simultaneously providing seemingly extraneous details important to the larger picture. In short, Capote is involving the reader, by pulling them directly into the heart of the dialogue. For example, in the following excerpt, Capote manages to sum up both Nancy and Mrs. Clutter in only a few exchanges:

[To Nancy]: “You go, dear, I’ll keep Jolene company until her mother comes for her,” Mrs. Clutter said, and then, addressing the child with unconquerable timidity, added, “If Joline doesn’t mind keeping me company.” … “I hope you won’t think Nancy rude?”

“Goodness, no. I just love her to death. Well, everybody does. There isn’t anybody like Nancy. Do you know what Mrs. Stringer says?” said Jolene, naming her home-economics teacher. “One day she told the class, ‘Nancy Clutter is always in a hurry, but she always has the time. And that’s one definition of a lady.’”

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Cutter. “All of my children are very efficient. They don’t need me.”

From this passage we learn of the beloved status of Nancy in the community and her generous nature, as well as Mrs. Clutter’s inner turmoil and resentment of wanting to be an ordinary mother and not being able to provide that role for her children (and their successes nonetheless). Perhaps most importantly with dialogue is Capote’s grasp of the killers’ minds, as they get closer to their inevitable capture. For example, the following passage touches on Perry’s sheer amazement and subsequent worry at their lack of remorse of killing the Clutters:

“Know what I think?,” said Perry. “I think there must be something wrong with us. To do what we did.”

“Did what?”

“Out there.”

Dick dropped the binoculars into a leather case, a luxurious receptacle initialed H.W.C. He was annoyed. Annoyed as well. Why the hell couldn’t Perry shut up? Christ Jesus, what damn good did it do, always dragging the goddam thing up? It really was annoying. Especially since they’d agreed, sort of, not to talk about the goddam thing. Just forget it.

“There’s got to be something wrong with somebody who’d do a thing like that,” Perry said.

“Deal me out, baby,” Dick said. “I’m a normal.” And Dick meant what he said.  

Scene-by-scene construction

            Like all good, engaging narrative, Capote successfully and masterfully manages to set the reader down in each scene throughout “In Cold Blood.” It is as if Capote was not relying on second-hand and documented information, but is witnessing events as they occur in a near-flawless recreation of the story.  Throughout the book, Capote strategically and thoroughly creates each scene within a larger narrative as the chapters slowly reveal more information. The scenes’ progression, from 1) the crime to 2) the unfolding of the crime to 3) the chase to 4) the capture to 5) the hangings are mostly, but not necessarily, in that order. Capote manages to keep the reader in rapt attention as he reveals bit by bit the entirety of the situation in a manner that is not only rather eloquent, but also simultaneously stark and poignant. From one of the first scenes, Nancy’s last morning, when she and her protégée, Jolene Katz, make a blue-ribbon pie in the lively kitchen of the Clutter farmhouse, to the scene in which Dick and Perry wake up cold and half-starved in a barn before stumbling upon a soon-to-be stolen car, to Mr. Dewey standing lost in the Holcombe graveyard – each serves its purpose of contributing to the larger effort.

Status details

Status details, details that reveal a character’s place in the social order, define the world within the context and make the character’s world clearer to the reader. In “In Cold Blood,” these provide a character map not just from a socioeconomic standpoint, but from inside the character’s worldview, as Capote masters shifting “as quickly as possible into the eye sockets, as it were, of the people in the story” (Wolfe, New Journalism). For example, in the following sentence, the readers learn that Mr. Clutter is not a fancy man, but one who values hard labor and the sanctity of marriage: 

“On his left hand, on what remained of a finger once mangled by a piece of farm machinery, he wore a plain gold band…”

In another example, Perry is revealed to be one who enjoys low comedy and is slightly childish, but who also pines for a more dignified, academic life. Dick, meanwhile is revealed to be a blue collar mechanic without actually stating so. See below:

“… and though the verses were very obscene, Perry, who thought them nevertheless hilarious, had had the manuscript leather-bound in a prison shop and its title, Dirty Jokes, stamped in gold.

            Dick was wearing a blue jumper suit; lettering stitched across the back of it advertised BOB SANDS’ BODY SHOP.

These details hold meaning, and not always the meaning that the reader might expect. For example, Capote takes the concept of status details one step further removed in his description of the courthouse cats, a double use of detail that also captures the lives of Dick and Perry – two strays with “strange and clever habits” who take advantage of those more foolish than they in the name of survival.

            “Among Garden City’s animals are two gray tomcats who are always together – thin, dirty strays with strange and clever habits. The chief ceremony of their day is performed at twilight. First they trot the length of Main Street, stopping to scrutinize the engine grilles of parked automobiles, particularly those stationed in front of the two hotels, the Windsor and Warren, for these cars, usually the property of travelers from afar, often yield what the bony, methodical creatures are hunting: slaughtered birds – crows, chickadees, and sparrows foolhardy enough to have flown into the path of the oncoming motorists. …”

Nonfiction novel

“In Cold Blood” reads like a fictional narrative, both in its level of extreme detail and its construction – a suspenseful collection of narrative cuts that heighten with tension as the situation becomes more and more intense toward the capture of the defendants. [Note: With its cinematic tendencies, it is easy to see why this book was made into a film not only once, but twice.] This nonfiction novel, as Capote describes it, is essentially the idea of writing reportage using strictly fictional techniques with completely accurate and true events, which had not been done before “In Cold Blood.” The difference between fiction and journalism, according to Capote, is that journalism moves on a horizontal plane, always superficial and on the surface level (ie: basic info, trivial quotes, etc.) Fiction, on the other hand, allows the author to delve deeply – vertically – into the characters’ feelings and thoughts. What Capote has accomplished in “In Cold Blood” is a perfect blending of the two, a mastering of the subjects and events so completely that he is able to weave in and out, up and down horizontally and vertically at virtually the same time.

Discussion question:

Do you feel that Truman Capote showed any favoritism toward Perry Smith over Dick Hickock in his writing of “In Cold Blood” (even though his portrayals of both defendants were arguably sympathetic)? Or, at any point, do we see any intrusion of the author into the nonfiction narrative?

(My own example: I noticed on page 278 that, during the retyping of Dick’s self-written essay, word for word, Capote chooses to extract a portion, noting, “Here Hickock revealed his pedophiliac tendencies, and after describing several experiences, wrote …” It would appear that Capote edited this part out of the book for unknown reasons – perhaps revulsion or protection of the reader – though he certainly didn’t protect the reader from other forms of violence.)