"Fetishes", published in 2013, seemed to mark a turning point in the bibliography of the author: slower, more restrained, heavy atmosphere of the camera. A different style that found in lon "Viscera" but still effective when dealing with raise tension!
From the first lines, the anguish does not leave the reader.
Playing with perspective lalternance and brevity of the chapters, a first plot is set up. What's more unhealthy than to move towards the horror through the eyes and innocent little girl dune language? Years earlier, the Anchor-Ferrers discovered the macabre staging of the murder of a young couple near the "turrets", their second home. Although the culprit was apprehended, the horror seems to catch up lorsquun crime repeating the same modus operandi is reproduced next to home. Both scared and in denial, no one knows quéprouver face attitude dOliver, Matilda and their daughter Lucia. The author then begins to walk us of a place to the other in this desolate countryside, before a change of scenery to bring us up to Jack Caffery, which he attends almost mundane ceremony meant to be a tribute to the dune teenager dead.
Lon demblée knows that these two stories will overlap, but when and how?
It is tricky daborder the plot in more detail without revealing too dindices because Mo Hayder clouds the brilliantly to an unexpected curtain fell. In this strange cast of characters, who knows more that he does well lavouer? That hides what and why?
Threw wait to see Jack Caffery resume service without teammate lintrépide Flea Marley. From "Birdman", his first investigation, I am committed to this tortured man haunted by his past. Cynical and tormented, Jack has seen so dhorreurs quon might think tank, but his jaded airs fool no one, and that is to Walker, a mysterious nomad with whom he has an ambiguous relationship, that he turns again. Pushed into a corner by the latter, he can not resign himself to abandon the investigation into the disappearance of his brother, an alleged victim of a pedophile. He knew that exercise seems dempathie fall prey to lantipathie and becomes more distant.
But true to his style gross, presquanimal, the author moves away from pure thriller to slide towards a police register in which i had trouble "enter". The characters, sometimes too nonchalant, sometimes too much invested, do not mount convinced. Maybe I was expecting too much of this novel after devouring the first misadventures Caffery?
"Viscera" leaves me the impression of a missed appointment
