Never Flinch

“Holly doesn’t agree with everything McKay espouses, but when she talks about the sexual abuse of women, Holly Gibney is right there with her. She herself was sexually abused as a young woman and knows few women—including Izzy Jaynes—who were not, in one way or another. Also, Kate McKay has what Holly thinks of as strut. Never having been much of a strutter herself, Holly approves of that.”

Holly gives some perspective on Kate’s activism, noting how Kate’s discussions of sexual assault resonate with Holly as a survivor. Most importantly, Holly appreciates Kate’s “strut,” or confidence, which Holly lacks. This passage outlines the framework of successful activism, as Kate is essentially using her confidence to speak on behalf of women like Holly, who might not otherwise make themselves heard.

“‘You don’t mind being Kate McKay’s object lesson? Don’t resent me for it?’ ‘No.’ Is that the truth? Corrie wants it to be. ‘I want to take your picture. While your eyes are still red and puffy and your skin is still irritated. All right?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘People need to understand there’s a price for standing up. But it can be paid. They need to understand that, too.’”

Though Kate is a domineering character, she asks Corrie for consent to use her picture, which shows a measure of consideration for Corrie’s trauma. Kate’s framing of the picture seems manipulative, but her explanation that people need to understand “there’s a price for standing up” both speaks to the optics of activism and the real threat to activists. Ironically, this parallels the language Fallowes uses when threatening Kate’s life. He seeks to use the threat of violence to frighten women into silence, while Kate uses that same threat to inspire courage.

“‘I’m sorry, you guys,’ Trig says. And he is, but only in an academic way. Killers in the movies say only the first one is hard, and although Trig guesses their lines were written by folks who have never killed anything bigger than a bug, it turns out to be true. Plus, these two were a drag on society, no good to anybody. He thinks, Dad, I could get to like this.”

Trig’s apology to Dov and Frank is not heartfelt, and he reflects on how it is already getting easier to kill people. Critically, Trig rationalizes these murders in a way he does not with others, calling Dov and Frank “a drag on society,” but the final line, in which Trig tells his dead father that he “could get to like” killing people, marks the beginning of Trig’s developing addiction to violence. Much as Trig did with his drinking, rationalizing the deaths of Dov and Frank is just another way to excuse his behavior.

“‘She’s a legend. Also, she happens to be Black. We got some good press after that bitch scared you—’ ‘She did more than scare me. That hurt!’ ‘I’m sure it did, and I’m sure I’m being crass, but ask yourself what happens if I enforce my contract, lawyers and all, against Sista Bessie. In a city that’s forty percent Black. How do I look if she says, “I’m sorry we had to cancel. White lady enforced her contract and took our date.” How will that look? How will it sound?’”

Kate’s focus on the optics of her activism is off-putting, especially in her “crass” approach to Corrie’s trauma. She gives her spot to Sista Bessie not out of the actual desire to do something good, but to make herself look good, highlighting The Challenges of Maintaining Authenticity in Activism.

“‘Now I want all the men in the audience to raise a hand. Come on, guys, don’t be shy.’ There’s some laughter and shuffling around, but the men are determined to be good sports. They raise their hands. About twenty percent of every night’s audience is male, Corrie has decided. Not all of them are in the booing section, but most are. ‘Now those men who’ve had an abortion, keep your hands up. Those who haven’t, put your hands down.’ More laughter. Most of the women applaud as all the male hands go down. ‘What, none of you? Wow! I mean holy jeepers!’”

Though Kate’s rhetoric in this trick question may seem like an attack on the men in the audience, she is using infantilization and feigned shock to highlight the issue she intends to discuss. By opening her show this way, Kate is setting up the audience for a discussion of the contradictions and irrationality of patriarchal society. Critically, her decision to “talk down” to the men in the audience is intended to mirror the way men traditionally talk down to women in matters of politics and policy.

“‘You led the jury to believe the prints were on the pamphlets themselves.’ There’s a brief look of panic in ADA Allen’s eyes as he considers the ramifications of what they know…and who they could tell. Then he gathers himself. ‘I…that is to say, I and my second…never lied about the location of those prints. It was incumbent on Russell Grinsted to—’ ‘Save your justifications for the board that will decide on whether or not to sanction you,’ Izzy says.”

The placement of the fingerprints on the child pornography found in Duffrey’s home is a critical element in Trig’s understanding of how Duffrey was framed and who was responsible. As Izzy investigates the crime, she comes to understand how Trig’s anger is justified, even if his methods are immoral. Allen, too, knows that what he did was wrong, but against Trig’s expectations, being confronted with his unethical behavior only makes Allen feel paranoid, not guilty.

“What if this person who threw the bleach and sent the anthrax gets McKay anyway? You know anybody can kill anybody, as long as they’re willing to give themselves up to do it. Then you’d have your own publicity problem, wouldn’t you? You’d be the woman who let Kate McKay get maimed or killed on your watch. It would destroy the agency. Never mind the agency, Holly thinks. It would destroy me. With guilt. And what do I know about being a bodyguard, anyway?”

Holly’s lack of confidence in herself reflects her own character, since she is always prone to doubt her abilities. However, she makes an interesting point in noting that “anybody can kill anybody,” which highlights the primary issue of the text. Chris/Chrissy and Trig are actively trying to kill Kate, and there is a limit to how much one person, Holly, can do to prevent that. Holly’s recognition that she cannot succeed alone points to The Power of Solidarity in Overcoming Challenges.

“Because she’s the one who got the bleach bath, Holly thinks. Nothing at all has happened to Kate, at least so far. Holly goes to the door of Kate’s sitting room and looks out into the hall. At this time of day there are few guests on the floor, and only four or five are heading for the stairs. Two others are looking out their doors, wearing the same exasperated expression Holly saw on Kate’s face when the alarm started to blare. False alarm, of course it is, those faces say. Nothing happens to me, it’s always someone else. I’m exempt. Those doors shut even as Holly beckons Kate and Corrie out.”

Holly understands that Corrie is the only person with a direct experience with violence, other than herself, but she broadens the context of her criticism of Kate. Throughout the novel, Holly notes that Kate seems oblivious to the danger she is in, but in this passage, Holly notes how common it is to feel invulnerable. Other hotel guests are likewise irritated with the alarm, assuming that the danger has nothing to do with them.

“Why does it have to be here? It just does, that’s all. He thinks about the eighteen-minute sermons, and the occasional rough hug from his dad. Beyond that (Trig, my good old Trigger) he won’t let himself go. Certainly not to his mother, who was gone. ‘Shut up,’ he says, loud enough to startle some of the pigeons into flight. ‘Just shut up.’”

The line between Trig’s desire for justice and his personal goal of proving himself to his father develops alongside Trig’s detachment from reality. At the same time as Trig acknowledges the personal importance of Holman Rink and confronts his father’s ghost verbally, he is planning to kill random people to avenge the death of a man Trig himself convicted. As the novel progresses, Trig’s focus continues to shift from his initial goal toward a hatred of his father.

“Fallowes and Pastor Jim see Kate McKay as a terrible influence working against God’s law, not only when it comes to abortion but about the acceptance of homosexuality and her insistence on limiting the Second Amendment (strangling the Second Amendment). Most of all, they worry about McKay’s influence on various state legislatures. McKay understands that all real change is local, and that makes her a poison seeping into the body politic.”

The leaders of Real Christ Holy serve as foils for Kate McKay. The Church, though supposedly concerned with “God’s law,” cites issues that are distinctly separate from religion, like gun ownership, highlighting how they have a more specific agenda than they claim. They see Kate as a “poison” in the “body politic,” but they too are political actors. The difference is that their political agenda is reactionary rather than progressive.

“‘From now on I do everything you say, Holly Gibney. I don’t know if you saved my life tonight, but you sure to God saved about twelve thousand dollars’ worth of dental work.’ Corrie slides onto a stool on Holly’s left. ‘Thank you,’ she says quietly. ‘Thank you so much. My God, did you see the size of him?’ ‘The Incredible Hulk,’ Holly says.”

Kate’s focus after the attack is on the financial and visual costs of a possible assault, noting dental work, which both costs a lot of money and is required to maintain the image Kate wants in public. Corrie only thanks Holly quietly, knowing that the threat of attack is real but not wanting to upset Kate with her concerns. Holly’s nickname for the attacker, “The Incredible Hulk,” seeks to deflect away from the fact that a real person attacked them, which is difficult for Holly to cope with.

“Trig has discovered that murder is pretty much the same. He thinks that after McElroy, he could have stopped. In the legal sense he’d crossed a red line, sure, but in his own head? Probably not. He doesn’t think it was Epstein and Mitborough that tipped him over, either. He thinks—he’s not sure, but he thinks—that it was Big Book Mike that flipped the switch. All he knows for certain is the next one, Sinclair, relieved a certain building pressure that had little (maybe nothing) to do with his original mission.”

Trig’s progression as a murderer is rooted in his own experience of addiction. As he begins his killing spree, he believes that he is doing something noble and necessary. Killing Mike exposes the hollowness of that moral justification, since he does not leave a name on Mike. He describes this killing as the one that “tipped him over” into addiction. When he kills Sinclair, he feels the same “relief” he feels when he takes a drink. His distinction of a “legal sense” of morality against his “own head” clarifies how he is no longer adhering to a specific moral code but rather feeling out what he is or is not willing to do.

“Part of it is because she’s been treated as Corrie was this morning—John would say she can identify—but it’s also simple unfairness. This young woman had bleach thrown in her face, and except for her own quick wits, could have inhaled anthrax dust. All Kate has suffered is having blood and guts dumped over her luggage; she didn’t even have to replace the clothes in the luggage. Corrie has stuck with her through everything, all to get a scolding for not arranging early check-in at the hotel.”

Holly’s resentment of Kate builds as she continues to see how Kate disregards Corrie and Holly as women. Corrie has endured multiple attacks on Kate’s behalf, but Holly sees how Corrie, as Kate’s employee, is expected to take these attacks and Kate’s abuse without complaint. Kate, on the other hand, has yet to experience any attacks first-hand, so Holly does not respect her authority as anything more than a tantrum.

“‘Back down? Show yellow? That’s what they want!’ Holly sighs. ‘I know you can’t do that, and I understand that having the press conference at the Waldorf doesn’t make sense, at least not now, but…’ ‘But what?’ Kate with her legs planted apart, fists on slim hips. ‘But what?’ ‘You might consider canceling it.’ ‘Not at all,’ Kate says. Then adds, ‘Never.’”

Kate’s determination puts herself, Corrie, and Holly in a difficult position. Holly understands how cancelling the tour is the same as capitulating to the very groups Kate fights against, but she also has a realistic view of the dangers they are facing. Kate’s posture, with her legs apart and her fists on her hips, evokes both authority and petulance, highlighting Kate’s indignation at Holly and at her political opponents.

“‘The call I got came from the Chief of Police himse—’ ‘I don’t care if it came from the Pope of Rome! Killing my date over a goddam anonymous call? Trying to shut me up?’ Kate whirls on Holly. ‘Can they do it?’ ‘They can. Public safety issue.’ ‘But if they can do it here, they can do it anywhere! You see that, right? Some dingdong makes one call and that’s all it takes to muzzle me? Bullshit! Bull…SHIT!’”

Again, Kate’s issue is with the broader implications of cancelling shows because of threats. If the threat is real, as Holly and Corrie fear it is, then people could be killed, but Kate’s argument, that anyone could call in a threat whenever they disagree with a speaker, is equally important. If Kate were to cancel every show where someone threatened violence, she would never speak in public again. However, ignoring threats, as Kate has been in the novel, leads to incidents like the anthrax envelope or Corrie being assaulted on the street.

“‘Christopher, I won’t do that.’ The anger bursts free. ‘You will, though. You better. If you don’t, I’ll tell them all this was your idea. Yours and Pastor Jim’s.’ Fallowes makes a sound that’s half sigh and half moan. ‘If you did that, you would kill this church, son.’ ‘I’m not your son,’ Chris says. Then, without knowing he means to do it, he screams, ‘She can’t kill babies! Bad enough that God can!’”

The thin shred of solidarity Chris had with Real Christ Holy is severed in this passage, as Chris decides to take charge of his own mission, regardless of Fallowes’s concerns. The personal nature of Chris’s mission comes out, as well, as his main focus is not on sexual orientation or guns, as Fallowes and Pastor Jim claim, but specifically on the idea of child death. Having seen Chrissy die, Chris is upset by the suggestion that abortion is killing children, making him hate Kate as though she killed his sister.

“‘I was laying down the background, because you’re an outsider in our fair city. The question is how do you justify the risk not only to yourself but to your audience?’ For Kate, this is a fat pitch. ‘Since the Dobbs versus Jackson Women’s Health decision in June of 2022, over one hundred women’s clinics have closed nationwide. These organizations—’ Buckeye Brandon interrupts with a smile. ‘Do you have an answer, ma’am, or did you just want to give a sermon?’ This brings more laughter, and for once Kate looks a little off her game. ‘Those closed centers provided many services other than abortion—pap smears, birth control, mammograms, adoption services. How do you justify that?’”

There are two critical elements in this passage. The first is Kate’s reference to Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health, which is one of the most important events for Kate’s cause to rally around. Brandon’s decision to ridicule Kate for bringing up this decision frames him as a misogynist more concerned with “winning” against Kate as a woman than with getting the truth. At the same time, the irony of telling the person giving a press conference they are “giving a sermon” undermines Kate’s importance and the importance of the event, overall. The reporters are literally gathered to listen to Kate, and yet Brandon is laughing at Kate for speaking.

“More and more he believes that he was lying to himself all along. It was never about creating guilt in those that caused Alan Duffrey’s death; that was just an excuse. It was killing for the sake of killing, and since there is no Murderers Anonymous, there’s only one way he can stop. And he will, after finishing the job…or at least as much of it as he can manage. But the world must know.”

Trig’s plan falls away as he realizes how killing has become an addiction for him. Through its focus on Alcoholics Anonymous, the novel highlights The Power of Solidarity in Overcoming Challenges. Without a similar support group for his murder addiction, Trig is essentially resolving to end his own life at the end of his murder spree, even though that goes against his initial claim that the jurors needed to live with their guilt. His insistence that “the world must know,” then, is a vestige of his goal, since he is no longer killing to prove anything outside of his personal conflict with the ghost of his father.

“Stewart drops to one knee in front of the penalty box and stares at her the way a scientist might study a test animal that will soon be sacrificed to the greater good. Which is exactly what Corrie feels like. Her terror is overlaid by surrealism. She could almost believe she’s having a terribly vivid nightmare, because how likely is it that she should be drugged and taken prisoner by one obviously crazy man only to be confronted by another?”

The intersection of Chris/Chrissy and Trig’s goals is “surreal” both to Corrie and in the melding of the two narratives of the novel. Chrissy looks at Corrie like “a test animal that will soon be sacrificed for the greater good,” which evokes the debate over the ethics of animal testing. Chrissy truly thinks Corrie’s death will bring about an improvement in society, much as many people believe animal testing is necessary, while Corrie lives the experience of being trapped and killed for someone else’s purposes.

“‘I was on the jury that convicted an innocent man named Alan Duffrey. I had help from an ambitious, self-righteous prosecutor and from the man who framed him, but that’s no excuse for what I did, which was browbeating three jurors who felt that Duffrey was telling the truth when he testified in his own defense. If not for me, that jury would have hung. And do you know what happened to Alan Duffrey?’ ‘Nothing good, I’m guessin.’ ‘Killed in prison before the truth came out. The load of guilt I’ve been carrying since…’”

Even as Trig is threatening Betty, he pleads for sympathy, complaining of the guilt he has felt since Duffrey’s death. Trig takes full responsibility for his actions, specifically that he orchestrated the conviction, and yet his anger is directed outward at the other jurors, the prosecutor, and the judge. As Trig notes, his guilt seems to be merely an excuse to kill people, just as he is now using it as a way to manipulate Betty.

“Don’t be a fool. You know who he is, Trigger. Daddy’s right there, leaning in the doorway, wearing his lucky #19 Buckeye Bullets shirt. ‘Shut up, Daddy. Shut your fucking trap.’ Never would have dared say something like that when I was alive. ‘Well, I don’t have to worry about that, do I? You deserved that heart attack. I wish I could have done this after you had it.’ He kicks Christopher Stewart’s body hard enough to lift it briefly from the dusty foyer floor. ‘And this. And this.’”

As Trig further disconnects from reality, he manages to confront his father. During this scene, Holly can hear Trig from outside Holman Rink, noting that Trig is speaking in his own voice, his father’s voice, and a child’s voice. Trig is reliving elements of his childhood, which are grounded in his father’s abusive behavior, his mother’s disappearance, and his desire to strike back at his father. Since his father is dead, Trig turns to kicking Chris’s body, which is a surrogate for his father just as his initial victims were surrogates for the jurors in the Duffrey trial.

“Kate has been afraid of death ever since she first saw shooting targets with her face on them for sale on the internet. That fear has been mostly academic, mitigated by the understanding that if it comes, her death will be a rallying cry. What she never expected was to be taken by some random crazy person with no political axe to grind, a man to whom she means nothing more than one more victim in a senseless killing spree. The pain in her face, exacerbated by the windings of tape around her head, is enormous. If I get out of this, she thinks, I’ll be buying some orthodontist a new Tesla…but I don’t think I’ll be getting out of it.”

Holly’s perception of Kate’s indifference to threats was partially accurate. Kate understands the threats against her, but as Holly predicted, she did not understand the reality of being kidnapped, assaulted, or killed. Recalling her joke about Holly saving her dental costs, Kate resolves that she may not survive this encounter, and her main complaint is that Trig’s motivation is not political: If she has to die, she prefers to die for her convictions, not in a random act of violence.

“Gibson stares at her extremely Caucasian face, eyes widening. He has his own gun, but Holly doesn’t give him a chance to use it. She shoots him twice: center mass, just as Bill Hodges told her. Gibson staggers backward, pawing at his chest, eyes wide. He tries to raise his gun. Jerome shoulders Holly aside and shoots him again with Red’s pistol. Gibson utters one word—‘Daddy!’—and falls forward. Holly spares him only a glance before looking into the arena. ‘Fire,’ she says, and giant-steps over Gibson’s body.”

In the ultimate showdown of the novel, Trig is shocked, not predicting that anything could go wrong with his plan. Holly promptly kills him, denying any chance for a monologue or redemption, and Trig dies pathetically, calling out one last time to his father. Critically, Holly and Jerome immediately ignore Trig’s death, moving instead to help their friends, highlighting how unimportant Trig is beyond his maniacal threats. Once Trig is dead, no one cares about his message or his motivations. This sequence of events demonstrates The Power of Solidarity in Overcoming Challenges: Trig is vulnerable because he is alone, while the others draw strength from their collaboration.