This book just didn’t do it for me. There wasn’t too much to like about it. The characters weren’t bad but they weren’t great. Ditto with the writing. And then there was the plot…
Frankly the plotting was all over the place. It started out quite dull, but eventually picked up the pace. Then, just when it was getting interesting, it got super weird. The problem was that the climax happened too early in the book. Once the mystery was done it made no sense to continue telling the story- but apparently the author didn’t see that and just kept writing- and writing- and writing… (much like this post… see what I’m doing- see how that’s annoying- don’t you wish I’d stop?). That led to a pretty bizarre conclusion if you ask me.
Add to that the clumsy structure and I just was not impressed. The random interspersal of painting descriptions and the change in perspectives halfway through just weren’t done well enough. Cleverness is all very well and good, but the author really has to have excellent control over their material for this to work. Instead each time Robertson interrupted the plot to flit to description of a painting it just felt jarring and out of place.
In the end it wasn’t really worth reading.
Rating 2/5 bananas