I don’t mention this a lot, but now is the perfect time: I love Richard Armitage. He’s handsome, for one. Dare I say, drop-dead gorgeous. He’s a really great actor and a singer. Based on the interviews I’ve seen, he’s charming and funny. His accent and baritone voice are wonderful. And his eyes…
Ahem.
When I found out Richard was writing a book, I knew I would read it, regardless of what it’s about. And it is about…
A brilliant scientist woman, Sarah, is diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s. Though this once illustrious Nobel winner is slowly losing her mind, a sudden trip to Geneva might bring her a cure, so she and her husband travel to a scientific institute nestled in the Swiss mountains to hopefully get help before it’s too late.
In a nutshell, this is one of those books that I struggle to review because it just exists. I have no overt hatred, no ringing endorsement, and no strong emotions of any kind, to the point where I’m more “Stoker-ed” (hehe) to re-read Dracula than talk about Geneva.
I think the biggest issue is there isn’t enough meat to the story. We’ve got the Alzheimer’s diagnosis, the institute’s neural invention thing, and the thriller hullabaloo. Those could be combined in some way to form something compelling, but in here it’s all observed from the surface: there are many options for where things could go, and yet everything’s stuck on the default setting.
This default setting probably contributed to me predicting the big twist quite early on. I never aggressively try to figure out whodunnit in mysteries, so when I made my guess this time I wasn’t really expecting to be right. But rather than be proud at this unprecedented win, I was disappointed. I would prefer to be cleverly hoodwinked by the author than solve the mystery way in advance, but that might just be me.
The shortage of emotional connection is tied up in the lackluster leads. Sarah’s marriage is on the rocks, more so now that she’s going downhill. But I don’t care. There’s nothing about them that makes me hope for a renewal of love. They have a young daughter who’s barely on the page and when stuff gets bad at the end and Sarah just wants to return to her daughter, it doesn’t matter because I never saw a relationship worth her fighting for. Saying someone has a daughter they love doesn’t work the same as seeing what a great daughter she is and knowing how sad it would be if the parent and child aren’t reunited.
I don’t think thrillers have a reputation for great family dynamics, but this is a short book and a couple chapters showing this family together might’ve ramped up the devastation of Sarah’s diagnosis. It feels like the Alzheimer’s angle is personal to Armitage and I wouldn’t have minded a deeper delve into how a diagnosis would change someone’s life.
I think a book is always better if at least one character is likable, and I don’t like any of these characters. There’s not even someone horrifyingly despicable to vilify, à la Heathcliff. I did like the breaking of the fourth wall when a character would justify their actions to the reader.
There’s a conspiracy theorist character who of course is branded as “unhinged.” Whether you would agree with the sentiments of such a person or not, I’m really tired of “conspiracy” people being tarred with the same old brush. There’s never any nuance or impartiality; it’s just “you’re wrong and crazy.”
The writing style reminds me of other thrillers; that is, it serves a purely mechanical purpose. But it seems like Armitage tried to add a touch more lyricism and impressivity (which is now a word) in some of his description, like he wanted to capture the magnificence and enormity of the Swiss scenery. That’s fine, but it did end up standing out from the rest of the description and it gives an uneven feel to the prose. I assume he’s been to Geneva and that’s great that he can draw from what is real, but as with other books I’ve read that take place in an actual location, the specificity and accuracy is lost on me and kinda bogs down the otherwise straightforward description. Is that too nitpicky?
But while I’m picking the nits (which sounds horrible), this book needs more periods and semicolons in place of the commas. I like a comma as much as the next writer, but they don’t command the power and respect of a full stop. Like this. And that.
Despite what I’ve just said, it’s not a bad book, it just doesn’t forge a memorable path. I should’ve gotten the audiobook so Armitage could read to me—that might’ve altered things.
There remains but one thing to say:
If by some caprice of the internet you’re reading this, Mr. Armitage, I have a request/suggestion. First of all, I believe in you and I want you to continue writing. Secondly, I want to see your wildest, zaniest, most bonkersville endeavor possible. Does something come to mind? Some tiny treasure chest you’ve been keeping in a corner? Write it. Like I said at the top, I will read whatever you feel is the story you want to tell. (I have a soft spot for historical mysteries that sound as British as possible. Just putting that out there.) Don’t let the boxes around you be your only walls. Kick ‘em down and make new buildings. And by buildings I mean books.
Anyway. I’m off to re-read Dracula.
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Well alright. So being a 6'2" dwarf wasn't enough accomplishment to satisfy. Sorry for the disappointment, but we can't all be Steinbeck. Good review.