The Silence Of The Lambs

Chilton places Lecter in several layers of restraints whenever he leaves his cell, which at once symbolizes the level of danger Lecter poses while also symbolizing Chilton’s performance of power. Lecter’s restraints include a straitjacket, hockey mask, and leg restraints, all beneath a “heavy canvas webbing [that] bound him tightly to a mover’s hand truck” (171). The number of layers and the intricacy of the routine isn’t excessive, as by Chapter 36 the reader finds that this level of security is necessary to keep Lecter subdued. However, Chilton also uses these restraints to his advantage, knowing that “it’s indignity [Lecter] can’t stand” (178). The restraints obscure Lecter’s identity and dehumanize him. Chilton uses Lecter’s restraints to humiliate him when Chilton exposes him to the troopers while he urinates. Chilton’s pleasure in Lecter’s humiliation further fuels Lecter’s animosity.

New conflict arises when Chilton interferes with Clarice and the FBI’s investigation by discovering Clarice’s fake deal and by formulating a deal of his own. Chilton’s actions are motivated by his anger at being left out of Clarice’s interviews. Despite telling Lecter that “no personal considerations have entered into [their] relationship” of care, Chilton is jealous that Lecter speaks honestly with Clarice when Lecter previously spoke to Chilton only to humiliate him (178). Chilton’s selfish desire for acclaim jeopardizes the investigation for Catherine. Lecter knows Buffalo Bill’s true identity: When he tells Chilton the killer’s name is Billy, the reader understands that Lecter has no intention of helping Chilton like he was helping Clarice.

Clarice’s anger at Chilton causes her to rashly plan personal vengeance that could compromise her and Crawford’s objectives. Crawford teaches her to ignore her emotions until they’ve reached their goal. He reminds her to fall back on logical thinking to keep her on the proper course. Clarice recognizes that his metaphor of liquid nitrogen “was a nod to her forensic background, meant to please her and to trigger ingrained habits of disciplined thinking” (194). The advice helps Clarice in the moment, and later in Chapter 56 when she deals with her terror in Gumb’s basement.

Harris starts to reveal details about Gumb’s circumstances through Lecter’s memories of Raspail and the symbol of the moth. Gumb has a history of going through phases of identity for acceptance, which supports Lecter’s theory that Gumb’s transness is only a performance, a misguided understanding of a different emotion. The moth takes on a different meaning from Gumb’s perspective, connecting to concepts of identity. When Gumb saw the butterfly emerge from its cocoon and fly away, “he felt so light […] and he knew what to do” (173). Gumb’s crimes mimic the moth and butterfly’s transformative abilities: He wants to change himself, and he transforms his victims into something new at the same time.

Crawford’s interactions with Dr. Danielson expose the limits of Crawford’s manipulation. The narrative portrays Dr. Danielson as a man of integrity who works tirelessly to support the vulnerable population of trans people. Crawford, however, views the man as an obstacle because he won’t willingly break confidentiality codes to give up Gumb’s identity. Unlike the surface-level manipulation of police egos, Crawford descends into threats against the clinic’s funding and Dr. Danielson’s reputation, and he even tries to spook Dr. Danielson with a gruesome picture of a victim’s corpse. Crawford believes his behavior is necessary to save Catherine and future victims’ lives, but Dr. Danielson makes him consider the larger picture when he says, “There’s a lot at stake here, and I don’t think it’s as important to you as it ought to be” (184). Trans people already experience a higher degree of hate-based violence, so Crawford’s threats, though they might save Catherine, might also harm other vulnerable people.