This book. I can’t even.
I’m amazed I stuck it out. I can’t imagine how the author managed to spend so much time with these appalling people in her head. She definitely shows that monstrosity is made, not born, but there is no one I could possibly like. There is no one for whom I retain sympathy.
Merry and Sam, two American ex-patriates, live what appears to be an idyllic life in a remote Swedish cabin. But no one is happy, and no one can let anyone else be happy–especially once Merry’s lifelong friend Frank (NOT Frances) arrives for an extended visit.
I don’t want to spoil it, so I’ll just say this: Bad things happen. Cumulative horrors are revealed. And that detective sure does talk a lot.
