Psycho
By: Robert Bloch / Narrated By: Paul Michael Garcia
Length: 5 hrs and 30 mins
What a delight! The movie was brilliant, yes—but the audiobook adds depth
First let’s get it outta the way: EVERYwhere you’ll see that Richard Powers is the narrator for Psycho audiobooks available for purchase. As a matter of fact, I purchased the Richard Powers version; it says Richard Powers in my Library, but the narrator sounded soooooo familiar—Imagine my surprise when, in the closing credits, the dude said he was Paul Michael Garcia. And in the Samples, I swear to you: It’s Paul Michael Garcia. So I’m betting (And I’m NOT a gambling gal!) that, no matter where you go or whatever what you buy says: It’s gonna be Paul Michael Garcia.
So let’s just get his narration out of the way here, shall we? Just stellar! Cuz I went into listening to Psycho with Anthony Perkins as Norman stuck in my head, but pretty much imMEDiately Paul Michael Garcia had me seeing a much different Norman. Yup, he’s not written as svelte or doe-eyed, rather THIS Norman is fat, doughy-faced, myopic, and boy oh boy is he just a big ol’ bundle o’ suppressed rage… at least suppressed until he’s all freaking out about something. Plus, from the start we’re given added depth to Norman in that he’s a rather eclectic reader. In the opening scene, he’s contemplating what he’s reading about how an indigenous population made drums outta human victims. Right off the bat, Norman is contemplative… and wholly getting off on this concept of human skin stretched tight. Then we get to see more of what is on his bookshelves, the psychology, the occult, and there are allusions to somewhat pornographic and questionable works also. PMG narrates Norman as he muses, oh so twistedly, and we can practically feeeeel the sweat beading on his flabby forehead. I commend PMG for having me instantly see someone OTHER than Anthony Perkins—such a famous movie, I shoulda kept defaulting to Perkins, but I never was. Then too, PMG carries the other characters off very well, my only slight quibble being that I did spend a bit of time wanting to throttle Mary Crane’s boyfriend Sam for all his wishy-washy I’ll-say-anything-to-pacify ramblings, and her sister Lila for all her impatient, impetuous, stir-the-hornet’s-nest ravings. But to give our narrator his due, those characters were exaaaaactly like that, so there you are.
Our story, which I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, but I will because it’s kinda my schtick—Mary Crane is on the run after stealing $40,000 from her boss. She’s been all shifty and wily, trading in cars and buying new ones, taking backroads, all to eventually get her to boyfriend Sam’s place where she plans to offer him cash to pay off his dad’s debts and then they can be married. Mary’s not getting any younger, after all—she’s been waiting for Sam to clear those debts for years, and she doesn’t wanna wait any longer.
But it’s night time, it’s storming outside, she’s tired, and she wants to hit Sam’s abode not looking like something the cat dragged in. Hence, on this backwater road, she stops at the Bates Motel, the only car there, and she takes a room, signing in under an assumed name. Hungry and with no other place in short distance, she accepts paunchy Norman Bates’s offer of cold cuts at the main house. There, feeling all spunky and pleased with herself, she kinda pokes the bear, and agitates Bates when she suggests he take charge of his life and get some independence from his overbearing mother. She beats a hasty retreat after he loses his cool, steps in to take a shower, and unbeknownst to her, a totally drunken Norman spies on her until he passes out.
The rest, as they say, is history. Such a wanton woman is done away with by Mother, who is saving Norman’s veritable soul from the nastiness of his heart and mind, but Norman is left with clean up duty, such as gathering belongings, and oh say, BODY PARTS, and gathering all together to sink into the swamp in the backyard. The theft of $40,000 doesn’t go unnoticed, Mary’s disappearance doesn't go unfelt, and a cast of characters begins revolving around the Bates Motel.
I haven’t seen the movie SEVeral times, only a few, but while the movie is brilliant filmmaking, I can say that the audiobook is even better. Knowing the twist at the end didn’t dampen the creepiness factor as the story unfolded; it just kinda sorta made it creepier, and Lila and Sam are written and developed well-enough to be able to carry the story on their own. I appreciated Norman’s alcoholic blackouts, and I enjoyed Mother showing up at inopportune moments, wielding whatever sharp objects were at hand, and I liked how Norman was just a nice doughy dude who kept wandering into unfortunate circumstances that Mommie Dearest kept getting him into. Poor guy, he just wanted a drum made of human skin, to make Mother understand that their relationship was Oedipal, and a nice motel on a busier road—Nuh-uh, thwarted every time. Ya kinda have to feel for the poor sot.
Inspired by psycho-killer Ed Gein, this was a very enjoyable jaunt into a time when serial killers weren’t famous superstars and when $40,000 was actually really a lot.
Oedipal complex, anyone…?!
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