Naomi Jenkins is madly in love with her boyfriend Robert Haworth. (Emphasis on "mad.") However, Robert suffers from an unfortunate condition known as "marriage," so Naomi and Robert can only meet for three hours per week, in the same room at the same motel. But one week, Robert doesn't show up. Robert would never stand Naomi up, so she knows—knows!—something terrible has happened to Robert, and resolves to find out what.
Naomi goes to Robert's house to investigate, and when she peers into his window, she discovers... the first and probably biggest stumbling block of the story. When she looks in the window, Naomi has a panic attack. She doesn't know why, she just... collapses, and isn't able to remember what she saw in the window at all.
This mystery felt weird and arbitrary to me. Naomi saw something in the window, and she just happens to not be able to remember it. What if she just... did remember? Or went back to the house again? By the end of the novel, I think Hannah actually does build up enough justification for Naomi's reaction. But this feels like an incredibly bizarre plot point in the first read-through.
Anyway, as Naomi leaves, she runs into Robert's wife Juliet, who is nothing like Robert had described. Naomi goes to the police to report Robert missing, but the police are understandably not chomping at the bit to search for a guy just because he missed one date with his mistress. So Naomi tries a different tactic: she claims Robert raped her. After all, he isn't just her boyfriend that's missed a date; he's a rapist on the loose. This succeeds in bringing the police to action, but starts a chain reaction that soon spirals out of control.
The book improves as we delve deeper into the web of lies, with each new development and revelation further twisting the plot. By the middle of the book, we have a fascinating puzzle of seemingly impossible coincidences and inscrutable characters.
But alas, all good things must come to an end. The pieces shift into place too quickly, and the characters seem to lose their brains somewhere in the final act. There's so much book left at the moment the answer comes into focus that it turns into a drag. And, more importantly, the answer isn't even particularly interesting. The entire plot comes down to weird, broken people being weird and broken, without any sort of clever tricks. The characters also become incredibly stupid in the finale, taking actions solely because they lead to the "exciting" climax Hannah desired, rather than become the actions were intelligent or fit with he characters.
I do really like the amount of intrigue present in the middle of the book. But the resolution isn't anything special. Everything occurred exactly as it seemed, with the only question being why everyone acts the way they do. Which, as I've already said, is basically because everyone is weird and broken. I caught onto one of the major "twists" early because there's a certain plot element that's so bizarre, random, and out-of-place, I figured there was only one way it could factor into the plot, and I was right.
Naomi is absolutely ridiculous. She's strong and independent, except when it comes to Robert, where she's obsessively in love. It's kind of fun to watch her just be insane, for the same reasons people love rubbernecking a car crash. Naomi has good chemistry with the side characters, especially Juliet, who can match her craziness point for point.
If you prefer a more restrained point of view... you're actually in luck, since Naomi shares the narration with a couple of other characters, most often DS Charlie Zailer. Although maybe you're not that lucky, since Charlie goes a bit cuckoo too. Hurting Distance is apparently the second entry in a series centered around Charlie and her constable Simon Waterhouse, although it didn't seem like they had much going for them besides some cliché will-they-or-won't-they romantic tension.
Part of the reason I picked this book up is because I wanted to see how Hannah fared when dealing with her own characters and style, rather than trying to (unsuccessfully) imitate Agatha Christie. It was better, but still not great. Hurting Distance (also published as The Truth-Teller's Lie) falls in a weird place where I don't think it's trash, and I actually really enjoyed the mystery once it was fully established, yet it also doesn't feel worth recommending. There's weird stuff going on, but it's because the people involved are weird and decided to act that way, not because there's particular tricks or subterfuge, and the big twist is broadcasted early because it's so incongruous with the other plot elements. Maybe this book is good if you're already a Sophie Hannah fan, but it didn't turn me into one.
No comments:
Post a Comment