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ANDREW VACHSS
APRIL 1999
By Paula Guran
He's after the predators -- those who commit crimes of abuse and sexual offense against children -- and fiction has become a potent armament in his war against "the Beast." Focusing on Vachss solely as a writer is impossible. He is a combatant in a continuing conflict. "I am a solider in (as far as I'm concerned) the only "Holy War" worthy of the name," he says. "Of necessity, this is guerrilla warfare. Therefore, you use what weapons are available. I 'chose' fiction because I don't own a TV network or a radio station or a newspaper. I wanted to reach a bigger jury than I could ever hope to find in a courthouse. My first book was non-fiction. It got wonderful reviews...and almost no readers outside the 'profession.' I chose 'fiction' because it is the only Trojan Horse available to someone of my resources."
Vachss (and Burke) deal with horrors that some critics have initially called unimaginable -- only to later discover that, as always, Vachss was at Ground Zero with the truth: predatory pedophiles trading kiddie porn over the Net; neo-Nazis; trafficking in human organs; pedophiles gaining employment in day-care centers to molest kids; domestic stalking. His intent goes beyond just wanting to inform: "I want to show people the truth, have it frighten them enough (or make them angry enough, depending on individual personalities) for them to do something about it."
"The books have reached a wider audience than I could have fantasized," he admits. The success of his novels has helped fuel his legal practice in which he exclusively represents abused children and he passes up no opportunity to further his cause. His non-fiction articles in Sunday supplement Parade regularly reach in excess of thirty million people. "Every single piece counts toward the end result. Comics, short stories, speeches, haiku, lectures, training sessions, correspondence, face-to-face...all of that and more. Music, too -- whether it's packaging a message or a short story with a CD as in Safe House or in having my own words recorded by others as Son Seals has threatened to do on his forthcoming album. And all the work has been especially enhanced by The Zero [his Web site which offers resources for those interested in his issues], which is hit thousands of times a day from all over the world and provides numerous opportunities for exchanges."
A primary mass medium -- film -- has, so far, not been employed to further the cause. "I was disinterested in the movies until one of 'them' pointed out that more people would see the biggest flop in the history of cinema than would read the biggest bestseller in the history of books, and if I was really about message...?" Frequently optioned, none of his work has yet made it to the screen, although two are currently in pre-production with New Line Cinema -- an adaptation of his first book, Flood, and a motion picture version of Cross, a novel by Vachss and James Colbert that Dark Horse Comics released in comic book form in 1995. "Everybody seems to hate Hollywood the same way they hate political corruption," he says. "That is, they hate the fact that none of it benefits them. But I have no 'They trashed my art!' stories. In fact, one of the most honorable and ethical individuals I have ever encountered in my life I met while dealing with Hollywood -- a producer named Lloyd Segan. That meeting alone, and the subsequent friendship that arose, would have been worth the journey to me."
Read enough Vachss and you begin to feel he writes not only from a profound sense of anger, but from some present-day equivalent of the primordial place from which ancient mythmakers derived their symbols and storytelling power. In his latest Burke novel, Choice of Evil, he confronts the reality of gay-bashing. ("Because," he says, "it is symptomatic of evil being a choice -- not, as some twits would tell you, a 'condition.' And because it endangers all of us.") There are strong supernatural elements within the plot of Choice of Evil, but Vachss sees this as another form of truth. "I believe there is a 'reality' to the so-called 'supernatural,' and it was organically necessary to the plot of the book so...it surfaced." Has he ever experienced the supernatural? "I do not give credence to anything I cannot personally verify. I have personally verified some things which would qualify as 'supernatural'."
Vachss also employs characters that attain mythological meaning within the context of his world and the "whisper stream" that informs and feeds it. "But, again," he emphasizes, "the 'mythology' is true; just as perception is reality. And the real 'horror' on this earth isn't 'imaginary.' I pay close attention to the borderland between 'myth' and reality, and often find that 'magic' to one is 'science' to another. So, for example, what are predatory pedophiles but vampires breeding others of their own foul species by violation of the innocent? Because our ancestors called them by a different name doesn't make them 'magical.' Or, for that matter, romantic."
Does Vachss see himself as some sort of avenging angel? Does he think, as earlier hard-boiled mystery writer Raymond Chandler did, that the man who tells the stories of the mean streets must be neither mean nor tarnished? "I believe Raymond Chandler was speaking from on high ... from his own lofty perch," he replied. "His characters were always more observers than participants. I don't believe that the 'mean streets' can be successfully traversed by tourists. And I believe an angel (or a White Knight) makes a lousy guide to Hell -- albeit a literate one, if that's what you want. I am not mean spirited, but I'm hardly Chandler -- in any sense. I guess I'm just enough of a thug to think that maybe virgins don't write the best sex scenes."
Fighting the monsters who prey on children is something beyond simple dedication. It is a calling, a vocation. Only, he says, "the volunteers," can be considered as having a choice. Vachss sees himself as a "draftee:" "The draftees have no such choice to be 'dedicated.' I was called when I first met the Beast. I am driven not by love of children but my hatred of those who prey upon them."
Does he believe in God? "I believe that there are barriers we can cross to other planes...because I have been there. I believe what we do lives on after we are gone. But I have often said, after the years I have spent on this junkyard of a planet, that if there is a God, someone should sue him for malpractice."
Has his war been effective so far? "I leave such judgments to others. I am swimming at the horizon with my work, and will drown before I reach it. But there is another wave coming behind me, and another behind that. I already get far more credit than I deserve for changes that have been made. It's not who strikes the final blow which topples the wall, it's that all the preceding blows weakened it to that state of readiness."
Vachss sees himself simply as "a man. A man who is going to die trying."
But, then again, although Vachss's fictional men (and women) strive even more strongly against evil than their literary progenitor can in real life, they are seldom simple. And there's always a fascinating, complex story involved with their life and death struggle to "try." One can't help but guess that Andrew Vachss is much the same.
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