Ordinarily I can't stand true crime. My little sister is something of a fan and once gave me some Ann Rule paperbacks (I think that's the name) and while I read them (okay, so I will obsessively read anything that's around me) I didn't particularly enjoy them and they ended up giving me nightmares. I don't really understand the appeal. I couldn't tell you who the books were about--all serial killers and mass murderers end up sounding the same to me.
But now reading ICB my guess is all these subsequent true crime books are trying to replicate what Capote did forty years ago. Not really succeeding, but trying. I'm still not certain exactly what it is Capote has done, and my reading is of course colored and biased terribly by the manipulations and assumptions of the movie. Capote writes of people having tea and discussing the case with "a friend" and I wonder--is the "friend" TC himself? Or Harper Lee? Or who? Capote is studiously out of the picture throughout the entire book, so I don't know outside of the events depicted in the movie how much behind-the-scenes manipulations he was responsible for, if any.
I'm not so interested in the case to really research it, either, although I just bought the Capote biography for the library and I will probably end up reading it. I will also buy some of TC's other books--ICB is the only one the library owns--since one of my staff said ICB is totally different from anything else he has written.
I'm sure this interest in TC will wane over time. But he's a good writer, which is probably the only reason why I stuck with ICB. True Crime, gak. There's enough evil in the world without dwelling on it.