It won’t be like any other novel you’ve read this year—or maybe ever—but it’s worth it.
A young woman sensitive to spirits becomes a caretaker for a cantankerous hoarder and his haunted house in Kidd’s (Himself, 2016) latest novel.
For much of her life, Maud Drennan has been able to see saints, a talent that has predisposed her to loneliness, especially after the mysterious disappearance of her older sister. But even these heavenly figures cannot protect her from the convoluted mystery at the heart of Cathal Flood’s house. At first, most of Maud’s horror is directed at the dirt and detritus—a kitchen that’s hardly ever been cleaned; a stack of National Geographic magazines that serves to wall off parts of the house—but soon she realizes there are much more malevolent memories lurking behind the mess. She begins to have strange dreams about Mr. Flood’s dead wife, and she finds a photo of an unknown girl, her face burned away, and a series of clippings about a different missing girl. Maud begins to wonder whether Mr. Flood—or someone related to him—might not actually be a killer. Her investigations bring her face to face with Mr. Flood’s unpleasant son; a nasty busybody church secretary; a mostly bald cat; and a handsome man who isn’t who he says he is. The eccentric characters are a bit hard to acclimate to in the beginning, but after a few chapters, the oddness becomes fascinating rather than off-putting. Maud is intrepid and clever and winningly awkward with her phantom saints, and Mr. Flood, despite his awful hygiene, is endearingly irascible. The mystery itself becomes less of a focus, second to Maud’s hijinks in seeking to solve it, but answers are given, and they satisfy the creepy sense of unease instilled by Maud’s early encounters in the house.
It won’t be like any other novel you’ve read this year—or maybe ever—but it’s worth it.Pub Date: May 1, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-5011-8063-7
Page Count: 352
Publisher: Atria
Review Posted Online: March 4, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 15, 2018
The Brat Pack meets The Bacchae in this precious, way-too-long, and utterly unsuspenseful town-and-gown murder tale. A bunch of ever-so-mandarin college kids in a small Vermont school are the eager epigones of an aloof classics professor, and in their exclusivity and snobbishness and eagerness to please their teacher, they are moved to try to enact Dionysian frenzies in the woods. During the only one that actually comes off, a local farmer happens upon them—and they kill him. But the death isn't ruled a murder—and might never have been if one of the gang—a cadging sybarite named Bunny Corcoran—hadn't shown signs of cracking under the secret's weight. And so he too is dispatched. The narrator, a blank-slate Californian named Richard Pepen chronicles the coverup. But if you're thinking remorse-drama, conscience masque, or even semi-trashy who'll-break-first? page-turner, forget it: This is a straight gee-whiz, first-to-have-ever-noticed college novel—"Hampden College, as a body, was always strangely prone to hysteria. Whether from isolation, malice, or simple boredom, people there were far more credulous and excitable than educated people are generally thought to be, and this hermetic, overheated atmosphere made it a thriving black petri dish of melodrama and distortion." First-novelist Tartt goes muzzy when she has to describe human confrontations (the murder, or sex, or even the ping-ponging of fear), and is much more comfortable in transcribing aimless dorm-room paranoia or the TV shows that the malefactors anesthetize themselves with as fate ticks down. By telegraphing the murders, Tartt wants us to be continually horrified at these kids—while inviting us to semi-enjoy their manneristic fetishes and refined tastes. This ersatz-Fitzgerald mix of moralizing and mirror-looking (Jay McInerney shook and poured the shaker first) is very 80's—and in Tartt's strenuous version already seems dated, formulaic. Les Nerds du Mal—and about as deep (if not nearly as involving) as a TV movie.
Pub Date: Sept. 16, 1992
ISBN: 1400031702
Page Count: 592
Publisher: Knopf
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1992
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
A modern day fable, with modern implications in a deceiving simplicity, by the author of Dickens. Dali and Others (Reynal & Hitchcock, p. 138), whose critical brilliance is well adapted to this type of satire. This tells of the revolt on a farm, against humans, when the pigs take over the intellectual superiority, training the horses, cows, sheep, etc., into acknowledging their greatness. The first hints come with the reading out of a pig who instigated the building of a windmill, so that the electric power would be theirs, the idea taken over by Napoleon who becomes topman with no maybes about it. Napoleon trains the young puppies to be his guards, dickers with humans, gradually instigates a reign of terror, and breaks the final commandment against any animal walking on two legs. The old faithful followers find themselves no better off for food and work than they were when man ruled them, learn their final disgrace when they see Napoleon and Squealer carousing with their enemies... A basic statement of the evils of dictatorship in that it not only corrupts the leaders, but deadens the intelligence and awareness of those led so that tyranny is inevitable. Mr. Orwell's animals exist in their own right, with a narrative as individual as it is apt in political parody.
Pub Date: Aug. 26, 1946
ISBN: 0452277507
Page Count: 114
Publisher: Harcourt, Brace
Review Posted Online: Nov. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1946
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