Guess Who?
Present Day / Alan
I came to this remote cabin in the middle of the Scotland wildlands as a means of escaping my dark past. I never expected to see the kind of sight greeting me now.
It was a book. Its screeching yellow cover was engulfed in a flame. The title and the author were drenched in the fire – all I could make out was the cover’s illustration: a silhouette of a deer’s head.
I looked around. The area of the frozen lake was empty. The trees shimmered with the whistle of the wind. You’d almost miss the rustling in the bushes – almost.
“Who’s there?” I yelled into the cold morning.
No response. A beast? A poacher?
I looked back at the burning book. There was almost nothing left of it now.
There was no two ways about it.
This was no accident.
I let the smoke reach my nostrils.
All flesh carries a distinct aroma to it. I recognized this one. What was it? A mystery novel? No. Not quite. Certainly, the ashes carried praises and invocations of Agatha Christie. But the word ‘thriller’ clung to the page remnants. The ‘psychological’ kind.
This was serious. And the last thing I’d wanted. The police would no doubt ask a lot of questions – ones not relevant to the book. They’d suspect me, no doubt. A part of me wanted to dump the remains in the lake. Let bygones be bygones. It’s just a book, anyway, right?
I shook my head in self-disgust.
That’s not who I am anymore.
I watched the fire fizzle out.
What kind of sick bastard would do something like this?
48 Hours Earlier / DWaM
It finally happened. My roommate and I bought a PS5.
After spending most of the day on Death Stranding and Shadow of the Colossus remaster, it was finally his turn. He booted up God of War: Ragnarok. I figured I should take a break and do something else.
I got quite a few books. Zagreb’s 45th annual Interliber happened last week. I usually only go to see the books – I like the covers – but I never leave empty-handed. My typical target is Murakami – but I’ve read most of him by now. Pressed for time, I settled for some of the best-sellers in the crime genre.
One of them is in my hands right now. I’m aware that it’s not my usual cup of tea, but I’m more than capable of reading a thriller. I vaguely remember Bad Player writing about this book on his blog. I don’t remember him hating it.
Here goes, then.
45 Hours Earlier / DWaM
I’m about a hundred or so pages in now. I’m not sure what to make of it.
The book takes place in the Scotland wilderness, at a cabin resort settled next to a frozen lake. One of the eleven guests staying there for the New Year’s has disappeared – and was found – dead.
The book doesn’t say who it was. Instead, it jumps between the present and past. The story shifts between multiple perspectives. Heather, one of the resort caretakers, trying to get in touch with the police and figure out how to best to deal with the crisis. The other perspectives are all set in the past, with the perspectives contained to three of the guests – Emma, Katie and Miranda – and the resort gamekeeper, Doug.
I’m now remembering that I’d actually seen some other reviews for the book at some point. Most of them cited the fact that the characters were unlikeable – and I’m forced to agree. They’re not terrible people or anything, but there’s an unspoken contempt between all parties involved. Even the characters whose perspective you don’t get to see any part of seem to be just barely tolerating each other.
Which, I guess, is part of what the book is going for. Of the eleven guests there, there is a random Icelandic couple, and the rest are all college friends assembled for their traditional New Year’s Eve get-together. The story draws attention to the fact that they’ve gotten older, that they’ve changed, that they’ve drifted apart since their college days: the quiet best friend of the popular girl is now distant, one of the couples there has brought along their baby, one of the newcomers is desperately trying to fit into the existing group dynamic…
It would be fine… but I’m not really clicking with any of the characters. Since the victim’s identity is still in the air, I’m wondering what the author’s aim here is. To feel bad for the victim after getting to know them? To feel like they got what they deserved? Should I feel bad for the killer?
I’m wondering what the author’s goal is by keeping the victim’s identity hidden, anyhow? I’m expecting some kind of a twist, but I’m not sure from where. Doug’s narration, for example, is the only one in third person. Not sure what that’s about. Is it because the author wants to accentuate how distant and walled off he is?
Not sure.
Present Day / Alan
Bang.
“Got ya, ya bastard.”
I caught a track of footprints leading away from the lake. The snowfall was still fresh. It had to have been him.
He wasn’t the most athletic type, clearly. Not only had I caught up with him, but I spotted him trying to catch his breath next to a tree. Wicked and weak, eh? It made for an easy shot.
I could hear him murmuring something as I approached.
“A…”
Hm?
“Alan…”
What? How did he know my name?
“Alan… Alan… I have to play… Alan… Wake… This was so stupid… They would’ve… realized… who the author was… from the blog category… I died… for nothing…”
I couldn’t make much sense of what he was talking about. But I did know one thing for sure.
“You died for nothing, yeh. And so did that book.”
He chuckled. “You don’t… understand… That book… had it… coming…”
40 Hours Earlier / DWaM
Okay. Well. This is underwhelming.
The characters have somehow gotten even more unlikeable. There’s no real tension here. The present day scenes are also doing nothing for me. I’ve only barely just remembered that early on in the book there was mention of a serial killer in the area, but it’s such a blindingly obvious red herring – mentioned at best, what, two times? The book is also going out of its way to telegraph who the victim is really hard, so I’m expecting there to be some kind of a last-minute reversal.
Maybe I should try put into words what exactly is not working for the characters for me. While you can see trace outlines of their personalities, the book is written in such a way where you’re mostly contained in the narrator’s head. The other characters, when present at all, feel like intrusions to the narration instead of an active participant in the events. The narrators do give more information on these other characters as the story goes on, but it’s nothing that wouldn’t alter their first vague impressions of them.
There are some implications of people having secrets. But the ones that have been revealed are underwhelming and the ones not yet revealed feel pretty obvious. Those in-between, I imagine, will be inconsequential.
Now, to be clear here, sis, I like to spill tea just as much as anyone. But the drama here isn’t juicy, and whatever’s being revealed is doubtful to make anyone gasp.
39 Hours Earlier / DWaM’s Roommate
Ha ha, Kratos blades go brrrr.
29 Hours Earlier / DWaM
Okay, well, I went to sleep. After breakfast, I figured I might as well finish the book.
I was correct about everything. All the secrets and reveals were pretty obvious. The heavily-telegraphed victim was, in fact, the victim. And given that the victim’s identity was confirmed right alongside the killer’s, I wasn’t exactly kept in suspense.
I was sure there would at least be some kind of a last-minute twist, but alas. It just kinda resolves and that’s that.
For a psychological thriller, I’m afraid there were very little thrills. Most of the tension – if any – would’ve come from present day sections, which are too busy wasting time with obvious red herrings. Since the past sections all lead up to the murder, you’re treated to mostly boring drama between its unlikeable cast.
I’ll admit, in retrospect, there was a few good moments near the end, where the obvious victim starts painting a continually larger target on their back, and you can feel how angry everyone else is starting to get. But that’s about it. The themes of drifting apart and getting older are never really fully explored – and most of it, I felt, was sacrificed in favor of the drama.
Unfortunate.
Now there’s only one thing left for me to do.
28 Hours Earlier / DWaM’s Roommate
“Hey.” I look up. “Where are you going?”
One minute, ___ was reading a book, and now he’s packing his bags.
“Scotland.” he says. “I got something important I gotta do.”
“Dude, don’t go burning books again.”
“It’s gonna make for a cool blog opener, though.” he says.
“You know you can just lie?”
“And show that I’m not a dedicated blogger? I don’t think so.” ___ sighs. “But, you know, I don’t actually hate this book. It wasn’t terrible. Certainly not enough to burn or anything. I mean, not like anyone sets out to write something bad. I’m sure a lot of thought and effort was put into it. It just didn’t work for me. And that’s fine. But, you know. The blog opener.”
I turn back to the screen. “Okay, bro. Whatever you say.”
He’s lost his mind. I should probably tell someone.
But I kinda wanna kill this boss first.
I take one last glance at the book he’s left on the table.
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