The Man from Primrose Lane by James Renner
My rating: 4/5 cats
i had no idea what i was getting into…
i came across this book at work when it first came in, and i was drawn to its cover, with its little subtle swirly bits and creepy dollface, and when i saw jonathan carroll had blurbed it, i put it on the mental to-read list. i didn’t read any reviews of it, i didn’t know anyone who had read it, and all i expected from it was a crime thriller involving mittens and obsession.
and so i was just reading along, doodley doodley doooo and then wait WHAT???
and after that it all went a little crazy. i refuse to give away this book’s secrets. other reviewers have, but most have been coy. this is a coy kinda book. do you have one of those annoying friends who will invariably announce, after a movie “oh, i totally saw that coming!!!??” give them this book. if they say they saw it coming, they are fucking liars.
this book does the story-within-a-story thing, going back and forth in time, sometimes even mid-sentence, following a couple of different storylines until even that much variety is not enough for it and it seems to suddenly get bored with itself and breaks out and goes barreling across genres and themes, laughing maniacally the whole time while the reader is left just trying to hold on and follow the story.
it is kind of fun and kind of regrettable. on the one hand – holy hell! it is awesome to be so blindsided – to be halfway through a book and suddenly have no idea what you are reading. on the other hand, it makes certain resolutions too easy and a little unfair.
this was probably only going to be a three-star cat book, but i decided to give a star cat for sheer balls alone. massive, “fuck you, reader” balls.
