Lincoln Center appears at the opening of the novel as a place of cultural possibility viewed from the outside: the killer watches its visitors go to performances while imagining a more cultivated life for himself. The scene sets his appetite for art against the violence he intends to commit, and the narrator senses that this unlikely aspiration may eventually contribute to his undoing.

Setting and First Appearance

At a beautiful summer dusk, the killer spends time alone at Lincoln Center’s gleaming, brand-new complex. Jets from the plaza’s central fountain catch the light and form rainbows as people stream toward performances. He has never attended one, and the prospect is so unfamiliar that he has trouble picturing himself doing so. The place is therefore introduced not through a performance itself but through his position outside it: he watches others enter a cultural life that remains distant from him.

The Killer’s Cultural Longing

The scene gives Lincoln Center a significance beyond its role as a backdrop. The killer is contemplating a barbaric crime even as he fantasizes about becoming more cultured. He hopes to read substantial books and learn about music and art; later, this same desire leads him to sneak into classes at Columbia University. He imagines pursuing these interests after he has got uxoricide out of his system, an intention that makes the contrast between aesthetic aspiration and violence especially stark.

Narrative Significance

The narrator does not find the killer likable, but his wish for self-improvement makes him more intelligible and elicits a measure of sympathy. Lincoln Center is the first visible sign of that wish: its performances represent an experience he envies but has not shared. The narrator also suspects that his appetite for culture, as well as his crimes, will play a part in bringing him down. The location thus introduces a tension the opening leaves unresolved, between the life the killer wants to discover and the violence already governing his plans.