The killing pattern of Jeffrey Dahmer is somewhat remarkable. While many authors rightfully express how shocking and unexpected the discovery of Dahmer’s Milwaukee apartment full of horrors was, there’s much more to the story.
It is worth asking, "How could someone so externally soft-spoken, friendly, and polite toward authority figures keep such grisly torture and murder so well-hidden from those around him, including the tenants in his Milwaukee neighborhood?" Apparently, no one could see it coming. The sexually charged torture and murder simply did not fit the psychological profile which he exhibited toward the world.
This book, though, has a radically different question to answer and a different premise from most books in the true-crime genre. What kept Dahmer in check from racking up even more victims than he did? In large part, it was due to the restraining influence of moral religion and the hospitality of his grandmother who provided a loving, but structured environment for him. These were the intervening years when Dahmer describes an internal struggle where he felt the urge to perversion, but was able to say deep-down, "No" to the impulse to anesthetize, maim, torture, and kill another homosexual victim. The point is not that Dahmer was ever truly sincere in his religious beliefs, but that religion bound his soul to recognize the difference between right and wrong.
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