Jane

my two cents, a rumination on obsession, repetition, and violence: far from the stoic pessimism rust projects, to cope with the loss of his daughter he becomes obsessed with these murders of young women and girls, finding ritual in his work. the corruption he uncovers makes him sick, but looking at cases over and over and over again makes him sick, too, his mental and physical health eroding. no longer just a witness but becoming so entwined with their stories that ultimately he too becomes a victim, even allowing his own would-be crucifixion at the hands their killer. rust’s philosophy tells him death is “honourable”, but i think really it’s how he hopes to find closeness to carcosa’s victims, to his daughter, in the only way life has shown him - through violence and degradation. only after surviving his attempt, thus breaking the circle, does the kernel of his buried grief finally begin to see the light