Helpful Score: 2
The joy of Sulari Gentill's The Woman in the Library is that it's a story within a story within a story, and each successive chapter reveals one or two more puzzle pieces for readers to ponder. I could compare the unfolding of the plot to peeling back the layers of an onion, but not only is that comparison worn out, but it also doesn't really fit. No, this story is a beauty, and much more like the slow but certain blossoming of a rose, petal by soft, scented petal.
A series of emails from Australian writer Hannah Tigone to Leo Johnson tells readers that Hannah is in Australia writing a novel about a murder set in the Boston Public Library and Leo is her American contact who reads Hannah's manuscript and searches out locations and offers tips on clarification. But that's not the only thing going on with the Hannah and Leo layer. The Freddie/Cain/Marigold/Whit layer also blossoms with the steady infusion of kernels of information about each character. These stories play off each other beautifully.
The Woman in the Library is one of those books that you can't talk about very much without giving something away, so I'll just say this: I decided right at the beginning to let myself become a leaf caught in a current in the river. This means that I didn't bring out my deerstalker hat and magnifying glass in order to solve the mystery before the characters in the book had a chance to. No, I simply went along for the ride and enjoyed every page. Once the rose that is The Woman in the Library has completely blossomed, there was nothing left to do but marvel at the story Gentill created. Wow!
(Review copy courtesy of the publisher and Net Galley)
A series of emails from Australian writer Hannah Tigone to Leo Johnson tells readers that Hannah is in Australia writing a novel about a murder set in the Boston Public Library and Leo is her American contact who reads Hannah's manuscript and searches out locations and offers tips on clarification. But that's not the only thing going on with the Hannah and Leo layer. The Freddie/Cain/Marigold/Whit layer also blossoms with the steady infusion of kernels of information about each character. These stories play off each other beautifully.
The Woman in the Library is one of those books that you can't talk about very much without giving something away, so I'll just say this: I decided right at the beginning to let myself become a leaf caught in a current in the river. This means that I didn't bring out my deerstalker hat and magnifying glass in order to solve the mystery before the characters in the book had a chance to. No, I simply went along for the ride and enjoyed every page. Once the rose that is The Woman in the Library has completely blossomed, there was nothing left to do but marvel at the story Gentill created. Wow!
(Review copy courtesy of the publisher and Net Galley)
