supernatural aspects are introduced gradually and with care, diverting much of the reader's focus to the detective story. Noel Carroll citesThe Exorcist as an example of the "complex discovery plot," where the reader, along with the characters, experiences a sequence of "onset" (mysterious events), "discovery" and "confirmation" (of a supernatural cause), and "confrontation." Carroll notes that the initial stage in The Exorcist is "quite protracted," allowing inexplicable events to accumulate before any explanation is provided. Furthermore, the "confirmation" stage is detailed and thorough, aligning with the Catholic church's exorcism requirements and Father Karras's own doubts, thereby enhancing realism. Some critics even argue that the novel leaves room for a natural explanation. Newgate Callendar wrote in The New York Times Book Review (June 6, 1971), "Blatty leaves the question open, though it is clear what his own attitude is." This perspective, while not widely held, could make the story more engaging for skeptical readers.

Blatty's novel is also notable for its strong character development, including the use of interior monologues. Although the prose can sometimes feel overly dramatic and the metaphors excessive ("He climbed the steps and opened the door as if it were a tender wound"), the book succeeds in creating a dark, contemplative atmosphere. At certain points, Blatty's writing is precise and clinical, which suits the medical examination of Regan.

While The Exorcist can be seen as much a "theological whodunit" (as reviewer Kenneth Woodward describes it) as a horror novel, its impact on the horror genre is undeniable. Although Blatty—and even Ira Levin—were not the first to set stories in familiar modern environments (a characteristic seen in the works of H. P. Lovecraft), this approach became dominant in horror literature partly due to Blatty's bestseller. Additionally, Blatty's straightforward and explicit prose, as opposed to the suggestive style of Poe, paved the way for future horror writing. This style, along with the use of interior monologues, became foundational to Stephen King's approach.

The Exorcist, both as a book and a film, offers a multitude of discussion topics, including character development, social and religious themes, and the groundbreaking contributions each made to genre conventions. The novel’s controversial reception at the time also warrants discussion, as do the universal religious and philosophical issues that Blatty tackles in the book.

1. How valid are the accusations of sensationalism against the book or film of The Exorcist? Does the theological context that Blatty provides justify the explicit horrors depicted?

2. Father Karras is portrayed as grappling with various issues, such as a crisis of faith and guilt over his treatment of his deceased mother. Are these issues successfully integrated in terms of character and theme? Additionally, are the problems that Karras brings to the exorcism effectively utilized in his ordeal during the exorcism?

3. Part of the message of The Exorcist, conveyed through a conversation between Father Dyer and Chris MacNeil at the end of the book, suggests that if such evil exists in the world, then good must also exist. Do you find this convincing? Does Blatty effectively argue this point within the novel’s world?

4. Why did Blatty choose an eleven-year-old girl as the target of demonic possession? How would the novel have been more or less successful—or simply different—if Chris MacNeil had been possessed instead of Regan?

5. Do you think The Exorcist, either as a book or movie, would cause such a substantial stir if it were first introduced in today’s culture rather than when it was originally released? How might it differ if it were written today?

6. How does the Georgetown setting contribute to the book? How was it visually utilized in the movie?

7. Father Merrin is introduced relatively briefly in both the novel and the film, despite playing a crucial role. Do you think Blatty successfully establishes his character? If so, what main techniques does he use to do so efficiently? If not, what more could Blatty have done to develop the character further?

8. In what ways does Detective Kinderman advance the book's religious themes and plot? What impact, if any, does Kinderman’s Jewish background have?

9. Anthony Burgess has observed that part of The Exorcist's impact comes from the ironic tension of an agnostic (Chris) pushing for her daughter to be exorcised, while the priest (Father Karras) resists and demands more proof. How does this dynamic unfold? How is Father Karras's training as a psychiatrist relevant? Does Chris abandon medical solutions too quickly, and if so, why?

10. When Karras begins to list the possessing entities to Merrin, the older exorcist replies, "There is only one." Do you agree? If so, why does the entity use various masks?

The immense popularity of The Exorcist—both the novel and the film—can be attributed to its engagement with numerous societal issues of its era. However, it's important not to overlook the other strengths of the book. Despite being occasionally verbose, it masterfully sets the mood. The meticulous build-up of events allowed even those who typically avoided supernatural fiction to immerse themselves in its sense of "reality." The film, on the other hand, pioneered in special effects and delivered an emotional "rollercoaster ride," as Blatty put it. Yet, these attributes alone don't fully explain why The Exorcist became such a cultural milestone.

Labeling The Exorcist merely as a "horror novel" is tempting, especially given the subsequent wave of bestsellers from authors like Stephen King. However, critics often overlook that contemporary reviewers frequently classified it as a religious novel. Religious bestsellers, both fiction and nonfiction, have a long-standing history, although by the time The Exorcist was published, their popularity was waning. Even so, religious historical novels like Taylor Caldwell's Great Lion of God (1970) still managed to hit the best-seller lists.

By 1971, many believed that religion itself was in decline. In Ira Levin's Rosemary's Baby (1967), the character Rosemary, while waiting in an obstetrician's office and unknowingly pregnant with the devil's child, picks up a Time magazine featuring the cover story "Is God Dead?" Traditional religion appeared to be seriously challenged, just as interest in the occult and more charismatic, informal forms of Christianity (like the "Jesus freaks") was on the rise. Consequently, society was searching for either a replacement for conventional religion or a way to rejuvenate it—or perhaps both.

Blatty's novel, much like Levin's, resonated perfectly with this cultural moment. Although some, such as Robert Short, criticized it as poor theology, Blatty and his readers (including a real-life exorcist cited by Kenneth Woodward) identified a key theological premise in The Exorcist: it is easier to prove the existence of supernatural evil than supernatural good. Even Short acknowledges that The Exorcist "is a pregnant and popular symptom of the search for something to believe in, especially something religious." In the novel, the priests emerge as unequivocal heroes, primarily focused on transcendent issues. As Peter Prescott noted, the era was marked by the "politicization of the churches"—a trend that appealed to some but alarmed many, particularly older Catholics. The Jesuit priests in The Exorcist are grounded in the real world but remain unburdened by national politics, prioritizing faith over worldly matters.

Furthermore, considering that the young girl, Regan MacNeil, who is possessed, has already received the best possible medical and psychological treatments, the church offers what science cannot. This aligns with the era's sentiment, where people were losing faith in religion but were also wary of the impersonal nature of technology. Kenneth Woodward cites a Jungian psychologist and minister, noting that the success of the film The Exorcist indicates that modern consciousness has become overly rational, and the public felt a need to balance that with the mythical, irrational elements presented in the movie.

Critics highlight that both the book and film versions of The Exorcist also intersected with the political concerns of the time. Stephen King, John Sutherland, and others convincingly argue that Regan's terrifying possession—marked by inexplicable changes, unruly behavior, and obscene acts, ultimately making her entirely "not herself"—serves as a powerful metaphor for the typical anxieties parents face as their children enter adolescence, especially in the context of the counterculture and its "generation gap." Notably, Regan's mother, Chris MacNeil, is at Georgetown University to act in a movie about a student uprising, which she, a psychology professor, helps to suppress. However, in her personal life, nothing can subdue her daughter's rebellion (which includes literal levitation), and psychology offers no solutions.

Throughout most of the book, Chris MacNeil seeks rational explanations for Regan's behavior, only turning to supernaturalism when all other options are exhausted. Sutherland suggests that the "demon child" theme in The Exorcist and other works resonated with a generation of parents whose child-rearing guide had been Dr. Spock's Baby and Child Care, which by 1980 had outsold any other book two to one. Spock's approach, as logical as his Star Trek namesake, posited that even difficult and unruly child behavior was understandable and should be treated reasonably. The "demon child" theme, Sutherland argues, provided a vicarious release of hostility that Spock's method did not address; it also offered a catharsis for fears that Spock's approach was incorrect and that it had led to raising a generation of monsters.

Family dynamics also play a significant role in The Exorcist. Regan's parents are divorced; her distant father neglects to call on her birthday, and her working mother worries she cannot give Regan enough attention. Blatty taps into major cultural anxieties of the time: What impact was the rising divorce rate having on children? Were feminism and working mothers causing problems due to a lack of maternal attention at home? These issues are not just symbolic subtexts; they are explicitly addressed, particularly through Chris's self-doubts. Notably, it is during unsupervised free time—or time supervised only by Chris MacNeil's young secretary, who has interests that would later be classified as New Age—that Regan contacts Captain Howdy through a Ouija board, opening the door to her possession. Stephen King points out that the horrific events are even more striking within the "graciously rich... and nice" setting of Georgetown; yet such places were also where the upheavals in family and society were most acutely felt.

The provocative and sexual aspects of many possession symptoms—which Blatty meticulously researched and portrayed with considerable accuracy—resonated with a society both shocked and intrigued by the sexual revolution. Relaxed publishing standards enabled Blatty to explicitly break taboos more than previous novels had dared. Although some readers objected to the sexual content, the complaints were fewer because the novel did not appear to condone the behavior. Since Regan was unable to control herself and it was depicted as an expression of evil, the sexual content provided maximum excitement with minimal moral concerns for the reader or viewer.

Drugs are briefly mentioned when a doctor asks Chris if she had left any hallucinogens that Regan might have taken. This idea is quickly dismissed, although a subplot (cut from the movie) involves the heroin-addicted daughter of the MacNeil housekeeper and handyman, Willie and Karl Engstrom. Consequently, The Exorcist encapsulates the cultural anxieties of the late 1960s and early 1970s, touching on metaphysical questions, evolving family dynamics, and youth rebellion—including drug use, political unrest, and shifting sexual norms—while simultaneously offering, at least within its fictional realm, a form of religious hope that many felt was lacking. As Stephen King notes in Danse Macabre, it is "a film about explosive social change"; yet its unique appeal stemmed from its suggestion of the steadfastness of traditional religious values.

Much like many other immensely popular books, The Exorcist drew from various genres and introduced some fresh elements, resulting in an engaging read that still met familiar desires or expectations of the audience. Blatty's inspirations were wide-ranging, encompassing the religious novel, the detective story, the horror or Gothic genre, and the celebrity best seller. The primary focus on possession and exorcism allowed Blatty to merge different genre tropes without significantly disrupting the expectations of each genre.

As Carroll observes, Blatty's use of the "complex discovery plot" is a hallmark of Gothic classics like Bram Stoker's Dracula (1897; see separate entry). This plot structure is also akin to that of the detective genre (it's likely no coincidence that Edgar Allen Poe is a pioneer in both areas). More recently, Ira Levin employed a similar technique in Rosemary's Baby—published just as Blatty began writing The Exorcist—gradually providing clues to the reader and building up evidence well before introducing any supernatural explanation. Additionally, psychological explanations are considered in both books, though in Rosemary's Baby the focus is on the mother's (or expectant mother's) mental health, whereas in The Exorcist it centers on the child.

In interviews, Blatty has generally been reticent about the fictional influences on his work. Instead, he emphasizes that The Exorcist is rooted in documented cases of possession as a nonfiction phenomenon, starting with a 1949 account of the possession and exorcism of a fourteen-year-old boy, which Blatty encountered during his undergraduate years at Georgetown University. The extensive research behind the book, covering fields from occultism to neurology, is evident and commendable.

Although neither Blatty nor many critics often mention them (one exception is Anthony Burgess in The New York Times Book Review, February 11, 1973), the books that most closely resemble The Exorcist in genre and objectives are the "supernatural thrillers" of Charles Williams, such as War in Heaven (1930), The Greater Trumps (1932), and All Hallows Eve (1942). In each of these, as in The Exorcist, spiritual forces of good and evil invade our world, altering the lives of ordinary people who encounter them. Furthermore, Williams matches Blatty's serious religious intent—although as a lay theologian, he arguably exceeds it. Nonetheless, like The Exorcist, Williams's novels have faced criticism for being overly lurid. Another book in this tradition, influenced by Williams, is C. S. Lewis's That Hideous Strength (1945).

One potential predecessor in terms of subject matter is Ray Russell's The Case Against Satan (1962). The story revolves around a possessed young girl exhibiting many similar symptoms, including vomiting and obscenities (although the language is milder due to stricter publishing standards of the time). The connection between possession and family dysfunction is explicit, not implicit as in Blatty's book: the girl lives with her single father, who murdered his wife and likely sexually abused his daughter, making him clearly responsible for exposing his child to possession and possibly being possessed himself. Like Blatty's interviews, Russell's afterword emphasizes the real-life origins of the story.

Some themes from The Exorcist recur throughout Blatty's work. In Twinkle, Twinkle, "Killer" Kane (1967) and its revised version, The Ninth Configuration (1978; see separate entry), a character humorously talks about exorcising another. These books also delve into metaphysical questions, exploring the nature of humanity and the struggle between good and evil, with a particular focus on self-sacrifice and redemption.

Blatty further examines the supernatural and personal issues related to his mother—who inspired the character of Father Karras's mother in The Exorcist—in his memoir, I'll Tell Them I Remember You. A more lighthearted depiction of his mother appears in his first book, Which Way to Mecca, Jack? (1960).

However, the only novel directly linked to The Exorcist is Legion, a sequel he wrote about twelve years later. The similarities and differences between these two novels are quite intriguing (see separate entry).

Although The Exorcist was already a best-selling novel, its adaptation into a motion picture turned it into a cultural sensation. The film, written and produced by Blatty and directed by William Friedkin, premiered the day after Christmas in 1973. Released with an R rating instead of an X rating, it sparked controversy, drawing pickets from churches while people queued for hours to watch it. Stories—likely exaggerated but grounded in truth—circulated about viewers fainting and vomiting in theaters. This led to a wave of people fearing they were possessed. Figures like Father Richard Woods and others began touring campuses, giving lectures on exorcism and the supernatural, reviving interest in theology.

The acting received widespread acclaim, even from critics who were not fans of the movie overall. The casting of a young girl in a film she was too young to watch herself was particularly contentious. Nevertheless, Linda Blair was ideal for the role, though it arguably limited her future career to typecast or exploitation roles. Max von Sydow and Jason Miller perfectly embodied the distant, authoritative Father Merrin and the brooding, concerned Father Karras, respectively. Ellen Burstyn displayed considerable range and depth as Chris MacNeil.

As expected when a novelist writes the screenplay—especially one as experienced in screenwriting as Blatty—the film remains largely faithful to the book. It even starts with the same prologue, featuring Father Merrin being summoned from an archaeological dig in Iraq. While this is somewhat confusing in the novel, it is almost bewildering when presented visually in the film. However, the movie soon transitions to a more understandable Georgetown, enhanced by the almost documentary-like feel of much of the camera work. Much of the dialogue is preserved and carefully chosen to hint at more, including interior monologue, which couldn't be fully included in a feature film.

There are two significant differences between the book and the movie version of The Exorcist. The first is a sensible and even beneficial streamlining. The subplot involving the Engstroms' heroin-addicted daughter is omitted, as is the subplot about Chic MacNeil being offered a directing opportunity and having to decline. Additionally, some potential natural causes of Regan's behavior mentioned in the book are either omitted or glossed over in the movie, such as whether she had read a book on witchcraft and possession and could be mimicking the described effects. Nevertheless, the film includes enough reasoning and investigation to convey the book's rigorous consideration of natural causes. In fact, some medical test scenes may be more horrifying than the possession-induced violence or vomiting scenes.

The film's ending has sparked significant controversy, not because it deviates greatly from the novel, but because it is inadequately explained, leaving it vulnerable to misinterpretation. When Karras invites the demon to possess him instead of Regan and then leaps out the window to his death, many interpreted this as a victory for evil. However, Blatty's intention, which is more evident in the book, is that good prevails; Karras sacrifices himself to defeat the demon and dies with his faith in God and the church restored. Due to its less explicit theology and ambiguous conclusion, Blatty criticizes the film for lacking the "moral center" present in the novel.

Despite its immense popularity, the film received mixed reviews from critics, with strong disapproval from Pauline Kael and Vincent Canby. Kael described the film as a "recruiting poster for the Catholic Church" but considered it "in the worst imaginable taste" and "too ugly a phenomenon to be taken lightly." While some critics found the characters compelling, others, like Kael, dismissed them as "juiceless stock roles." Nevertheless, the film revolutionized cinema by breaking taboos on what could be shown in a feature and using special effects to depict graphic violence or grotesque events. Although Blatty may have been disappointed that the film downplayed the book's "message," focusing instead on providing a "roller coaster ride" for viewers, it is clear that many audiences came for the thrill and left with at least part of the message.