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Book review: Heartsick
Heartsick, by Chelsea Cain (thriller)
Oh, man. This is one of the most disturbing books I've ever read. It opens with Archie Sheridan, a detective who's been chasing a serial killer for over ten years, being captured by that serial killer--who turns out to be a woman--and viciously tortured.
Then in the next chapter, we skip ahead two years. Archie has somehow survived his ordeal. But he's addicted to vicodin, and his wife and kids have left him. The serial killer, Gretchen Lowell, has been caught and is serving life in prison. Archie visits her weekly, for reasons we don't learn until later in the book.
The book's present-day storyline is about Archie pursuing another serial killer, but the real compelling question, the one that kept my eyes glued to the page, was WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO ARCHIE?
When I read that his wife had left him, I immediately thought the worst of her. He's been through a terrible ordeal, and assuming he's not violent or dangerous (he's not), how can she abandon him to struggle through his recovery alone? But as I read further and learned more details, I realized she had very good reasons for leaving, and I sympathized. I even thought she'd done the right thing.
As for Archie's relationship with Gretchen, the woman who tortured him almost to death, it's tragic and sad and gut-twistingly disturbing.
The book isn't perfect, because the Archie and Gretchen backstory is so much more compelling than the main storyline about the new serial killer. But that backstory sure kept me reading, as did my desire to see Archie grow and recover from his extreme psychological damage.
The writing is top-notch. Let me give you an example, and the key point here is that this example is nothing special or exceptional within the novel. The whole book is like this. Archie is interviewing the teenage friend Maria of a girl who's been kidnapped by the new serial killer.
"'Have you found her?' [Maria] asked immediately.
"'Not yet,' Archie said kindly. Kids were often overlooked in police investigations. The thinking was that they made bad witnesses, but Archie had found that they noticed things that adults didn't. As long as they were interviewed appropriately, assured that they didn't have to know the answers, so they wouldn't make up what they thought the interviewer wanted to hear, kids as young as six could offer valuable observations. But Maria was fifteen. Teenage girls were unpredictable. Archie had never communicated well with them. He had spent most of his teen years attempting to start conversations with girls and flubbing miserably. He hadn't really gotten much better. 'Can we talk to you some more?' he asked Maria.
"She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears. Well, you've still got the magic touch, thought Archie."
The author is entertaining on every possible level. She's advancing the plot, she's giving me some interesting information about child witnesses, she's developing Archie's character, and she's even thrown in a funny line. These paragraphs are doing four things at once! No wonder I was never tempted to skim this novel.
I recommend this novel highly, but be careful--it's not for the squeamish. I felt dirty after reading this novel, not because of any sexual content (there was hardly any), but because it dealt with such cringe-inducing topics as the conflation of violence and intimacy, dependency and attachment, domination and love. And it never struck a false note; every word of it felt absolutely true. That's what's so damned disturbing about it. I was careful not to read this book within a hour of going to bed; I knew it would give me nightmares.
It's part of a series, and I plan to read on. But I'm going to need a palette cleanser first; too many books like this will put me in a funk. A nice Bujold or Brockmann book should do the trick.
Oh, man. This is one of the most disturbing books I've ever read. It opens with Archie Sheridan, a detective who's been chasing a serial killer for over ten years, being captured by that serial killer--who turns out to be a woman--and viciously tortured.
Then in the next chapter, we skip ahead two years. Archie has somehow survived his ordeal. But he's addicted to vicodin, and his wife and kids have left him. The serial killer, Gretchen Lowell, has been caught and is serving life in prison. Archie visits her weekly, for reasons we don't learn until later in the book.
The book's present-day storyline is about Archie pursuing another serial killer, but the real compelling question, the one that kept my eyes glued to the page, was WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO ARCHIE?
When I read that his wife had left him, I immediately thought the worst of her. He's been through a terrible ordeal, and assuming he's not violent or dangerous (he's not), how can she abandon him to struggle through his recovery alone? But as I read further and learned more details, I realized she had very good reasons for leaving, and I sympathized. I even thought she'd done the right thing.
As for Archie's relationship with Gretchen, the woman who tortured him almost to death, it's tragic and sad and gut-twistingly disturbing.
The book isn't perfect, because the Archie and Gretchen backstory is so much more compelling than the main storyline about the new serial killer. But that backstory sure kept me reading, as did my desire to see Archie grow and recover from his extreme psychological damage.
The writing is top-notch. Let me give you an example, and the key point here is that this example is nothing special or exceptional within the novel. The whole book is like this. Archie is interviewing the teenage friend Maria of a girl who's been kidnapped by the new serial killer.
"'Have you found her?' [Maria] asked immediately.
"'Not yet,' Archie said kindly. Kids were often overlooked in police investigations. The thinking was that they made bad witnesses, but Archie had found that they noticed things that adults didn't. As long as they were interviewed appropriately, assured that they didn't have to know the answers, so they wouldn't make up what they thought the interviewer wanted to hear, kids as young as six could offer valuable observations. But Maria was fifteen. Teenage girls were unpredictable. Archie had never communicated well with them. He had spent most of his teen years attempting to start conversations with girls and flubbing miserably. He hadn't really gotten much better. 'Can we talk to you some more?' he asked Maria.
"She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears. Well, you've still got the magic touch, thought Archie."
The author is entertaining on every possible level. She's advancing the plot, she's giving me some interesting information about child witnesses, she's developing Archie's character, and she's even thrown in a funny line. These paragraphs are doing four things at once! No wonder I was never tempted to skim this novel.
I recommend this novel highly, but be careful--it's not for the squeamish. I felt dirty after reading this novel, not because of any sexual content (there was hardly any), but because it dealt with such cringe-inducing topics as the conflation of violence and intimacy, dependency and attachment, domination and love. And it never struck a false note; every word of it felt absolutely true. That's what's so damned disturbing about it. I was careful not to read this book within a hour of going to bed; I knew it would give me nightmares.
It's part of a series, and I plan to read on. But I'm going to need a palette cleanser first; too many books like this will put me in a funk. A nice Bujold or Brockmann book should do the trick.
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