The 7½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton
My rating: 4/5 cats
fulfilling my 2019 goal to read (at least) one book each month that i bought in hardcover and put off reading long enough that it is now in paperback.
“Funny how things repeat, isn’t it?”
i have read a lot of books, but i have never read anything like this.
that’s one of those glib clichés; the book-blurb equivalent of picking a tattoo from the wall, but in this case, it’s the absolute truth. it’s a baller of a debut—an intricately plotted and wholly satisfying mix of sci-fi and mystery; their different-but-complementary flavors as unexpectedly addictive as m&ms in popcorn.
any attempt to summarize this book will probably make me sound bonkers, but if you want a touchpoint-parade, it’s basically Quantum Leap meets Groundhog Day meets Life After Life meets Downton Abbey meets Memento with more twists than… something really twisty. so twisty.
and this is why no one invites me to pitch meetings.
i’m glad i *finally* got around to reading this—i enjoyed trying to keep track of all of the layers of paths and people and timelines; attempting to winnow out the book’s secrets before their various reveals, squeaking every time that creepy footman made an appearance, and loving the fact that pretty much every body our poor narrator found himself in was a different kind of terrible.
“How splendid it is to be a gentleman.”
this is another book that, if a graphic novel version of it were to become available, OH OR A CHOOSE-YOUR-OWN-ADVENTURE (GRAPHIC) NOVEL, i would be very keen on reading it.
if there’s ever a pitch meeting to make this happen, feel free to invite me to it. i will supply the snacks and similes. and sibilants.
see you soon, rabbits…
