
The depths to which Delta insinuates herself into their lives, and the reader’s growing realization that her fixation on the family can end only in the worst possible way, make the ensuing narrative climax all the more shocking for its unexpected twist. “It was a certain kind of ecstasy to know where I belonged,” she says. … It’s a matter of osmosis.” It seems that when no one really sees you, it’s easy to slip from reality into madness.Īfter the affluent Brooklyn couple Fritz and Amelia hire her to take pictures at their daughter’s birthday party, Delta decides she wants to be part of their world, and then manipulates that world to suit her needs. Friends are few, her origin story is vague, but her understanding of her subjects is unparalleled: “Even at 15, it was obvious to me that you need to immerse yourself in the lifestyle if you want to fit in. Delta Dawn - yes, she’s named after Tanya Tucker’s country song - is a professional photographer who’s become an expert at becoming invisible. I’ve rarely felt as unnerved by a novel as I did after reading Mary Dixie Carter’s THE PHOTOGRAPHER (Minotaur, 288 pp., $27.99), a debut that trains a literal lens on aspiration, envy and overweening obsession.
