This book has good intentions in its scathing indictment of the systems that enable sexual abuse, but the execution is muddled. Character motivations This book has good intentions in its scathing indictment of the systems that enable sexual abuse, but the execution is muddled. Character motivations are unclear, pacing is uneven, details are withheld for shock value that are easily discernible, and certain plot points stretch credulity. Ultimately this just has a lot of common pitfalls of a debut novel, so I can’t fault it too harshly, but my petty annoyances kept adding up to the point where they were clouding the reading experience. ...more
I’m not sure whether this was inspired directly by the aftermath of Gabby Petito’s murder, but the parallels are clear, with McTiernan’s main focus beI’m not sure whether this was inspired directly by the aftermath of Gabby Petito’s murder, but the parallels are clear, with McTiernan’s main focus being the lack of cooperation from the parents of the young man suspected of killing his girlfriend. At times it’s frustrating and repetitive but that’s very much the point—this isn’t a story of twists and turns as much as a portrait of two families being undone by a tragedy, one of those families making unconscionably evil choices in the name of keeping their family sheltered from public scrutiny.
(Also, this book was set in my hometown which was wild and surreal and very random as McTiernan is an Irish writer living in Australia and I live in a small town in Vermont that no one has ever heard of. Kudos to her for the mostly accurate portrayal.)...more
Faithful Place is the first book in this series to follow a detective who isn’t working on the novel’s central case. It follows Frank Mackey, an underFaithful Place is the first book in this series to follow a detective who isn’t working on the novel’s central case. It follows Frank Mackey, an undercover agent who gets a call from his younger sister—the only person he still speaks to from his poor, inner city Dublin family that he cut out of his life decades ago. A suitcase has been discovered, which belongs to Rosie Daly, the girl Frank had been in love with as a teenager. The two were planning on running off to England together, but Rosie never showed up that night, and Frank found a note from her which made it sound like she was going off on her own. He had never spoken to her again, assuming she had made her own way to England—but the discovery of her suitcase overturns his assumption that she had managed to make it out at all.
What I liked about this book is what I like about all of French’s books: solid mystery, distinct character voice (I’d actually describe French’s writing style as less “lyrical” in this book than in the first two in this series—which suited Frank to a T), the ability to get to the heart of her characters and connect the reader to what drives them.
What I disliked about this book was everything else. This book was overwhelmingly domestic, to a degree that was just never going to work to my personal taste. The biggest thing at stake here is Frank’s personal relationships: with his daughter, with his ex-wife, and with his estranged family. Any time I see the words marriage, divorce, parenthood, etc., in a thriller summary, I click swiftly away, so this is the sort of thing I never would have picked up if it hadn’t been a part of this series, and I can’t exactly fault a book for not being everything I personally wished it would be.
That said, I do think this is a notably weaker offering than the first two books in this series. Frank’s belligerence gets tiresome very quickly, and all of the conflicts in this book get very repetitive. I also found the whole setup very stereotypical: poor Irish family has too many kids and an alcoholic, abusive father—shocking! (I know French herself is Irish, and I don’t mean to imply that the family dynamic was handled insensitively—just that I thought there were opportunities for a fresher dynamic that French could have taken but did not.) I definitely didn’t mind reading this, but I’m hoping for more exciting things from the three remaining titles in this series I still have to read....more
My favorite in this series so far, by a mile. Let’s get the absurd premise out of the way: before working on the Murder Squad, Cassie used to be an unMy favorite in this series so far, by a mile. Let’s get the absurd premise out of the way: before working on the Murder Squad, Cassie used to be an undercover agent, and in one of her old cases, she went by the alias Lexie Madison. Cut to the present: a dead body shows up, and the victim is not only identical to Cassie, but she had Lexie Madison’s ID on her when she died. In order to investigate the case, Cassie is sent back undercover, posing as Lexie and living with Lexie’s housemates, a group of university students.
Like I said, it’s absurd. But that’s okay. Fiction is fiction for a reason. What I actually found mildly irritating toward the beginning was just how much time was spent on French trying to justify this premise to the reader, by means of Cassie trying to justify her decision to take this ridiculous case to herself and to anyone else who would listen. Nothing about this is realistic and we could have all saved ourselves 100 pages if everyone just accepted that from the start.
That said, I really adored this book. With traces of The Secret History, The Likeness depicts with aplomb the insularity of academic and the fiercely obsessive quality of close friendship. Once Cassie gets into the house, this book—unlike Cassie—never takes a false step. The characters are all brilliantly rendered on their own, but as a group, their dynamic sings in a way that I find it particularly challenging for authors to capture in an organic, convincing way.
This book is just fun and indulgent and moving and sad, and it keeps you guessing from start to finish. I had the best time reading this....more
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