“I have mixed feelings about this highly anticipated novel. Like Dekker’s other novels, this one is fast-paced, suspenseful, and mind-stretching. And Ted is a good writer; he certainly knows how to spin a tale, pace his stories, and ratchet up the suspense. As in his other novels, he uses some biblical symbolism certain to make some readers think more about God's love for fallen man as illustrated by the main character's love for his daughter and the sacrifices he makes. The novel also raises some ethical questions about how low a father, represented by a vigilante father, should go to save his daughter. I won’t rehash the storyline here, but I will summarize that this is probably the darkest, grittiest Dekker novel I’ve read yet. It certainly is not for the faint of heart.
As a Christian novel, this one won't pass the litmus test of more conservative readers due to crude language, flippant uses of God's name in dialogue, and the total absence of any overtly Christian character. (See the content rating at Safebooks.org and keep in mind that most of this language was edited out before the final printing.) The level of distasteful violence also pushes the envelope, and I felt repulsed more than once, though I realize that the violence was restrained compared to what it could have been.
As usual with Dekker, I felt confused because I couldn't tell whether the novel was supposed to be Christian or secular. It weighed heavily on the latter, and I’ve since learned that BoneMan’s Daughters is Dekker’s first foray into the secular market. Well, that explains it. I just wish CBD and other advertisers had made that fact clearer before I started the book.
As a novel, this disturbing story is engaging, compelling, and hard to put down. The twists and turns are amazing, though not always logical, and Dekker kept me guessing more than once. Some places in the plot seemed a little low on the plausibility scale.
Many times I would like to have seen more character depth to create more sympathy. The lead Ryan Evans, an intelligence officer, makes some rash decisions that don't always make sense. At least twice, he could have attacked BoneMan and possibly overpowered him; I’m not sure why he didn’t try. (Interestingly his attitude as the story’s hero appears to convey an anti-Iraq-war message to the reader.) Perhaps if I had understood Ryan’s character better, he would have seemed more sympathetic. His daughter, Bethany, is as jaded and shallow as they come. Ryan's cheating wife, Celine, and her DA boyfriend aren't much better. I frankly had little sympathy for any of the main characters. Even Ricki, the FBI agent, seemed flat to me. So when Bethany's kidnapping takes place, I didn't find myself caring about her or Ryan as much as I should have. Maybe that's because I never really liked her to begin with. (What I found interesting as I was reading is that this novel bears some striking similarities to The Pawn by Steven James. There’s a serial killer and a dysfunctional father-daughter relationship; the daughter even “cuts” herself. Interesting . . . )
[Spoiler Warning] Probably the most interesting character in the novel is BoneMan, who prefers to be called “Satan,” further reinforcement of the symbolism. However, this skin-shaving, Noxzema-applying psycho continues to be an enigma in my mind. I understand his hatred of his mother and his desire to seek the perfect daughter (though how his hatred of his mother translates into seeking a perfect daughter remains unclear). When his victims do not meet his standards, he systematically kills them by breaking their bones. Thankfully, Dekker spares the reader from actually seeing BoneMan carry out one of his numerous murders. However, to save Bethany, BoneMan forces Ryan to essentially become BoneMan and break the bones of Ryan’s wife’s lover. (I know—it’s difficult even imagining such an act.) To save Bethany, Ryan is willing to become like the serial killer himself—again raising ethical questions about what is acceptable in this situation. I'm still not sure why BoneMan breaks the bones of his victims other than to mirror Christ's crucifixion and to "get it right" since Christ's bones were not broken. But why does BoneMan feel that he must do this? (Perhaps a rereading of key chapters might aid my understanding.)
As a secular novel, you won't find a much cleaner read than this. For horror fiction (which this is), you won’t find such restrained violence either. As already noted, the clever biblical symbolism may get some readers thinking about what Jesus endured on the cross for us. For that reason, I applaud Dekker's desire to symbolize biblical truth and challenge the thinking of a secular audience. But as with some of his other novels, I didn’t feel that he inserted enough of a spiritual message, which is buried under so much darkness, to seal the deal. The rather abrupt ending wasn’t quite what I wanted either; suddenly, Ryan is running away from the compound with only a broken heel. Why did BoneMan let him go? In the end, the novel, though displaying some expertly crafted suspense, seemed more unsettling than uplifting.”