Roslund & Hellstrom are two Swedish (male) writers who have collaborated on a series of extremely hard-hitting, not to say stomach-churning, serial paedophile fictional killings. To do this kind of thing justice the writer(s) will need to have extraordinary talents and deep psychological insight into what they are attempting to depict. I have only seen it done once with credibility and courage, by A M Homes, in her book The End of Alice, and even then I was left with some deep misgivings about the reasons for attempting to make this subject even rudimentarily explicable. I think with A M Homes's book, there did emerge some - I can't say explanation - perhaps the word I'm fumbling for is rationale. That there is a rationale, in the minds of sick individuals, is, I think, one kind of explanation. That it is deeply flawed goes without saying. In the case of The Beast, that rationale is a given - something we must accept without knowing or even trying to know where it came from and how it evolved in the serial paedophile killer. To write from this premise would be, for most writers, impossible, to attempt it without any rationale feels like a risk, and in the case of The Beast, it fails.
Briefly, the plot follows the fate of a child, killed after the paedophile escapes from police custody while being transferred. This child's father, somewhat improbably, takes vengeance, most would, and indeed do, say, quite rightly. We are treated to a heavy handed inside-jail scenario quite late in the plot (which I am skimming) during which there is an attack on the child's father There are layers here then, of irony, of heavy-duty rationalisation of the prison system's failings. Of crude assumptions by tainted people, of the complete failure of these people to even understand their own motives. I think it is strange that Roslund and Hellstrom can write such a clichéd and stereotyped prison scenario. Have they ever seen the inside of one themselves? Sometimes these things do matter, but they appear to get their ideas from the movies - even the idea of the father being stabbed in the shower is so hackneyed as to raise the reader's intolerance-levels.
Aside from the distaste I felt in such a close adherence to the violent methods of sexual torture and murder of children, I found myself struggling to see what was being depicted. Everyone roots for the father of the murdered child, no one cares that his initial success in court encourages a number of other attacks on quite harmless, perhaps mentally challenged people. When an appeal to a higher court sends him back into prison he stares stoically at the walls or occasionally bangs his head against them. He is a wreck.
There is little psychological complexity - even the defence of manslaughter rather than murder or `disturbance of the balance of his mind' is not raised by his defence team. Everything is too black or white. Everyone is too wrong or too right. There is no moral complexity - it loses the reader, especially towards the end. It's like something written by affectless aliens for much of the last few pages.