Blagica Jankuloska
Dry Wit & Domestic Chaos
Louise Candlish’s latest kicks off with a shocking opening scene before diving into a dark, domestic tale about how far we can really trust our neighbors. As my first read by this author, it was an engaging introduction to her style. The story is told entirely through Gwen’s perspective, a narrative voice that left me entirely conflicted—I couldn't decide if I loved or loathed her. On one hand, Gwen’s dry, cynical observations are highly entertaining. On the other, her frantic, back-and-forth decisions alienate everyone around her, causing the plot to swing like a far-fetched pendulum. Still, trapped between an appalling family and an unmotivated "boomerang" son, it’s hard not to feel sorry for how often she is taken advantage of.
The momentum stalls a bit when Gwen is forced to protect her lifestyle, caught between loyalty to her desperate tenant, Pixie, and a battle with her sworn enemy next door, Alec. Because I predicted a major piece of the ending early on, the final twist landed with an anti-climactic thud rather than a shock.
Where the book truly shines is its biting social commentary on London’s brutal rental market. The stark contrast between Gwen’s comfortable privilege and Pixie’s sheer desperation to keep a roof over her head creates a brilliant, pressure-cooker atmosphere. It leaves you asking: should we sympathize with Gwen, or criticize her complacency?
While this specific thriller format was new to me, it was a compelling ride, and I’d happily pick up another book by Candlish in the future.
Dry Wit & Domestic Chaos
Louise Candlish’s latest kicks off with a shocking opening scene before diving into a dark, domestic tale about how far we can really trust our neighbors. As my first read by this author, it was an engaging introduction to her style. The story is told entirely through Gwen’s perspective, a narrative voice that left me entirely conflicted—I couldn't decide if I loved or loathed her. On one hand, Gwen’s dry, cynical observations are highly entertaining. On the other, her frantic, back-and-forth decisions alienate everyone around her, causing the plot to swing like a far-fetched pendulum. Still, trapped between an appalling family and an unmotivated "boomerang" son, it’s hard not to feel sorry for how often she is taken advantage of.
The momentum stalls a bit when Gwen is forced to protect her lifestyle, caught between loyalty to her desperate tenant, Pixie, and a battle with her sworn enemy next door, Alec. Because I predicted a major piece of the ending early on, the final twist landed with an anti-climactic thud rather than a shock.
Where the book truly shines is its biting social commentary on London’s brutal rental market. The stark contrast between Gwen’s comfortable privilege and Pixie’s sheer desperation to keep a roof over her head creates a brilliant, pressure-cooker atmosphere. It leaves you asking: should we sympathize with Gwen, or criticize her complacency?
While this specific thriller format was new to me, it was a compelling ride, and I’d happily pick up another book by Candlish in the future.