The Chelsea Murders (U.S.A. title Murder Games) by Lionel Davidson (1978)

I’m slightly ashamed to admit that I personally recommended The Chelsea Murders for our Siblings’ Book Club this year—and that it was also the one I was most looking forward to reading. I made it through 9 chapters (about 20% of the book) and just couldn’t continue.

Synopsis of The Chelsea Murders (1978)

Set in late-’70s Chelsea (West London), this story opens with a grisly murder—a beheading described in gory detail that was the first off-putting moment for me. It then follows art students, police, and journalists as they come and go throughout the district and discuss life, work, drugs, and the bits of news trickling in about murdered strangers.

Major Turn-offs in The Chelsea Murders

I feel like this is going to be a shorter book review than normal, since I obviously gave up on it so quickly. I mean, I did give it a fair shake—more than required in fact—but I just couldn’t continue.

My main reasons for putting it away were the gratuitous violence and language, but there was more. The setting, for example, was a major turn-off for me.

Now I get it, Davidson is portraying real-life beatnik Chelsea in its own time. Great. But I’ve never been to Chelsea and couldn’t care less about its various Bohemian and druggy subcultures. A book doesn’t necessarily have to please me with its setting, but if the author intentionally turns me off to his place, why would I want to continue for another 300+ pages?

Consider some of the more “disturbing” books you’ve read, and ask yourself how the setting drew you in or turned you off. I’ll give a few examples:

• Lord of the Flies by William Golding (1954) stands out to me in this discussion, because it’s left indelible images in my mind of boar-heads and murdered children. But it’s a survival book, so the deserted island where the kids create their own little government carries a mysterious charm that helps the story move along.
  
• Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Philip K. Dick (1968) also jumps to mind, perhaps because of how gross Philip K. Dick envisioned the future to be. You can see elements of it the film Blade Runner. But again, that filthy setting is essentially a character itself in the book, the necessary element that makes Dick’s dystopian vision tangible.
  
• Devil in the White City by Erik Larson (2003) is a nonfiction example. Set in turn-of-the-century Chicago, this book makes you feel the filth of Chicago’s streets almost as much as Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle (1906). Yet again, this setting sets the stage for the real-life deeds of that serial killer, while also balancing the dark back streets with the glamour of the Fair.

Again, I’m not asking Davidson to please me with his characters or setting, but nothing about Chelsea or the plot of this book drew me in but rather pushed me away. I read up on the later plot structure too, and since I have never read any of the literary giants from Chelsea that play a role in the murderer’s clues, I’d have been lost anyway.

Conclusion

Sometimes you’ve got to throw in the towel and give up on a book, even if you otherwise love an author. That’s what I’ve done with this one, despite Davidson’s Kolymsky Heights (1994) being a personal favorite of mine. Oh well.

We’re soon to hit another year, so the next round of Siblings’ Book Club selections is on its way. Can’t wait!

©2025 E.T.