In a Dark, Dark Room: A Book Review of B.A. Paris’ “The Prisoner”

While this may not have been my favorite B.A. Paris novel to date—her debut was astounding!—The Prisoner delivers all that readers have come to expect from this bestselling suspense author, and I quickly became intrigued with the narrative. Throughout the story, there is a niggling sense that something is off, not quite right, adding to the tension in a way that reminds me of the static preceding a lightning strike. It’s subtle, but suddenly it gives way and chaos ensues. As with her other novels, The Prisoner is primarily psychological suspense, which I find more frightening than outright horror. Beware of making presumptions and of taking things at face value, because circumstances cast doubt on what is really happening. When done well, the twists and revelations can turn the narrative on its head, and Paris has made this her trademark.

Comprised of two segments, The Prisoner is both literal and a metaphor, representing the main character’s status in more ways than one. Kidnapped and held in an empty, windowless, pitch-black room, Amelie Lamont goes from fears surrounding her new husband to wondering where she is and why, and what is really happening. Narrated in the first-person by Amelie, readers assume her limited point of view while being drawn alongside her into the situation. The Prisoner evokes such a keen sense of claustrophobia, and Paris writes with a cinematic style that makes it easy for readers to put themselves into Amelie’s position. Some chapters during the first section of the book take place during the past and offer vignettes into Amelie’s life prior to the kidnapping and how they shaped her into the independent woman she became. As with the story itself, each layer reveals another aspect and another surprise. Paris does with The Prisoner what she does with her other novels, taking a seemingly common trope and turning it on its head with a domino effect of twists that always go further than expected. Talk about being held captive!  

I received a complimentary copy of this book from Netgalley and was not required to post a favorable review. All opinions are my own.

My rating: 5 stars ♥♥♥♥♥

“An In-Between Place”: A Book Review of Shawn Smucker’s “These Nameless Things”

This is the most unique and unusual book that I have read in 2020, and perhaps in the past several years. It almost defies classification, and although I have a rather terrible memory, I know that this story is one that will remain with me, and one that I will be pondering for a long time to come. Since this is my first Shawn Smucker read, I don’t know if his other books are similar, but I intend to find out! These Nameless Things is a stunning amalgamation of allegory, dystopian, magical realism, and psychological horror. While reading, I found myself jotting down one quotation after another because the writing is so poetically profound. This is one of the few books that I plan to read again, likely more than once, and I anticipate discovering more details each time. As such, this novel would make an excellent choice for a book club or discussion group.

Smucker has taken an age-old question and written a compelling narrative around it, addressing it from the future-set prologue: “Have you ever, for a flash of time, understood the significance of being? The miracle of existing?” Perhaps the best part of the story is looking back from the last page and realizing how the many subtleties click into place. These Nameless Things brings to mind the essence of several famous stories, including Plato’s Cave and Dante’s Inferno. It has a Twilight-Zone ambiance and an intentional timelessness to it. While it has vague references to Scripture and is a clean read, I find that the story is more thematically spiritual, with overarching Christian symbolism that is for the most part subtle. By this I mean that believers will easily recognize it, and those not of the faith will most likely enjoy the story for its own sake because there is no overt proselytizing.

Along with the themes, some of the other aspects of this striking novel that appealed to me include the chapter titles and the anthropomorphism. I cannot remember the last adult fiction book I read that had chapter titles, and it was both refreshing and appreciated. It took me a while to understand what was happening in the novel, and for a while in the beginning I felt baffled, which is intentional on the author’s part and will make sense later on, and the titles helped to bring some comprehension amidst the surreal atmosphere. As an aside, the cover is beautifully done, depicting the haunting essence of the story, with the mountain looming in the background, an ominous juggernaut. These Nameless Things is ultimately a story about secrets, guilt, and forgiveness. Dan, the first-person narrator, relates that “The secrets piled up inside of me. They hibernated into cocoons, transforming into things that had lives of their own.” Later on, another character tells him that “In this place, our guilt consumes us…The only thing that can rescue anyone from this deep darkness is grace.” This is the redemptive message of These Nameless Things: hope in the power of confronting and confessing our guilt, and hope in the unmerited gift of grace.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from Revell and was under no obligation to post a positive review. All opinions are my own.

My rating: 5 stars ♥♥♥♥♥

Click HERE to buy These Nameless Things