'Even in the midst of my righteous indignation when I bitch about Woody and Soon-Yi, I know that on some level, I'm not an entirely upstanding citizen myself. In everyday deed and thought, I'm a decent-enough human. But I'm something else as well, something more objectionable. The Victorians understood this feeling; its why they gave us the stark bifurcations of Dorian Gray, of Jekyll and Hyde. I suuppose this is the human condition, this sneaking suspicion of our own badness. It lies at the heart of our fascination with people who do awful things. Something in us - in me - chimes to that awfulness, recognizes it in my self, is horrified by that recognition, and then thrills to the drama of loudly denouncing the monster in question.'
Claire Dederer, Monsters: What Do We Do With Great Art By Bad People?, p.38.
