Book #46 for 2015
This book is depressing as fuck. I don’t think I’m spoiling anything by saying that. And it’s probably best that anybody reading this book knows that going in. But it’s also an extremely well written book, as both mystery and pre-apocalyptic fiction. I did have the who figured out pretty quickly, but the rest of it had me trailing along, usually a step or two behind. There were lots and lots of red herrings, and Winters placed them with such care that they all looked realistically chaotic. That takes some real talent.
I really liked Hank Palace, even though I do kinda get why some people think he’s a bit of a jerk for forcing others to cooperate with his own bucket list fulfillment. All the mystery and doom aside, he is an interesting lens through which to view what all of us, individually and collectively, truly find important. This turns out to be the key to the mystery as well.
It really says something that, although this tale caused me great emotional distress, I really want to read the whole damn trilogy.