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Like the book, which I'll get to in a second, the series is narrated by Dexter in the first person. This doesn't mean the secret serial killer is always on screen (though he tends to be most of the time). Instead, I'm merely suggesting that when his mug is on camera, you'll usually understand what's going on inside his head through a personal Dexter introduction of his current setting or a response to people or situations without him physically opening his mouth. And it's a good thing, too. Though a killer at heart, Dexter is an extremely likeable figure. He's intelligent, witty and a bit of a romantic, even though he can't have emotional feelings for his girlfriend, Rita, or really anyone at all.

As a reviewer, you hate to describe anything without introducing a negative or two, but that's the position I find myself in. Dexter's got a solid cast playing solid characters, with an absorbing main story carried throughout the 12-episode season. Of course each episode also includes a number of B-stories for the secondary characters to busy themselves with, some of which grow into storylines that extend over multiple episodes.

The Book

The snappy, quickly-paced Darkly Dreaming Dexter is over before you know it. At just 288 pages, I had no trouble propping this one on my lap and polishing off its final chapter before the day was done. Lindsay's narrative reads like butter. Don't ask me to elaborate on what that means. What I mean to say is that it's captivating enough to hold your interest through Dexter's final monologue. And this is coming from one who already knew how it would end.

There were a number of things I found quite surprising. The top shocker, however, would be how much liberty Showtime and creator James Manos, Jr. took in developing the TV adaptation. The overused "loosely based on" doesn't quite apply in this case, mostly because about the first half of the novel is used for just the series pilot. The book's second half is totally different from the show, save for a similar ending. As you can imagine, the final half feels totally rushed, since Lindsay tied up his loose ends in just 150 pages, whereas the series took its time with another 11 hours of video.

And while the story is amusing to follow, the characters certainly aren't. They're not fleshed out in the least. They instead feel hollow and merely exist to play out character stereotypes that Lindsay feels are necessary for his narrative. Need an angry black man? Well here's Sgt. James Doakes. Sassy, sexed-up Cuban? Try Detective LaGuerta. Even Dexter's own sister, Deb, is reduced to squabbling about a possible reassignment out of vice, and not much else. And Dexter's relationship with troubled Rita, which is studied so closely in the series, reserves just a few brief mentions in the book. The only character with any real substance is Dexter, and that's only because we as readers are constantly in his head.

The final bone I must pick is the lack of danger the Tamiami Butcher (or the show's Ice Truck Killer) supposedly puts Dexter in. In the series, the slaughtered bodies become increasingly connected to Dexter and his past. There comes a point around the fourth episode or so, when the killer places snapshots of Dexter's childhood at crime scenes, that the viewer realizes that Dexter's well-being may very well be in trouble. The killer is playing more than a game here. He may in fact be hunting Dexter's life. In the book, Dexter is hardly anything but amazed at the butcher's skills as a murder machine. Really, that's about it: he's amazed. The emotional and threateningly personal connection between Dexter and the killer ceases to exist in literary form.

The Verdict

Clearly I'm a bigger fan of the TV show. This much is true. What's harder to nail down is whether I'd even recommend Lindsay's novel. Sure, I breezed through his book at lightning speed. But how much of my overall enjoyment was in comparing the two stories as I was reading? Honestly, quite a lot.

In Darkly Dreaming Dexter, Lindsay crafted a fantastic premise that centers on a surprisingly likeable serial killer. What's unfortunately missing from the book are solid characters and a stronger connection between Dexter and the killer. Whereas I mark Dexter's series debut as the most consistently entertaining freshman season of any show I have ever seen, there are countless books I have read this year alone that would rank higher than Darkly Dreaming Dexter.

So if you have yet to treat yourself to the complex life of Dexter Morgan, I suggest beginning with (and probably sticking solely to) the television show. Darkly Dreaming Dexter should be reserved only for the curious.

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