Sheila Dalton’s novel, The Girl in the Box, begins as Jeremy (Jerry) Simpson, a somewhat idealistic, Canadian psychoanalyst in his early forties, visits civil war torn Guatemala in the early 1980’s on a quest to research psychogenic drugs used by Mayan Shamans. By chance, he is led to a severely abused, mute, quasi- autistic, young Mayan woman, Inez, chained in a box in the jungle. Inez’s parents are refugees in the jungle trying to avoid massacre by the government and manipulation from the guerillas. Jerry’s heart goes out to the beautiful but tortured young woman. When her parents ask him to take her back to Canada with him, he does.
Jerry’s long-term love interest, Caitlin Shaughnessy, a free-lance, investigative reporter, apprehensively supports Jerry’s decision. Caitlin and Jerry maintain separate residences. Inez lives with Jerry who hires a psychiatric nurse to help manage Inez until a proper long-term treatment facility can be found. Inez is an enigma, displaying emotions from pure love to intense anger and rage. Caitlin becomes concerned. One morning Jerry is found dead in his library. Inez, covered in blood, is seated beside him.
The crux of the novel is Dalton’s superb character development of Caitlin. This is literary fiction at its finest. I am a big fan of using the first person point of view in character development—Dalton is a master at this. So profound was the introspection upon which Caitlin embarked to solve the mysteries surrounding her lover’s murder, that I found myself developing a deep empathy for her. I even began musing about points in my life where I had to make similar decisions about myself. Dalton uses third person for all the other characters, focusing mainly on Jerry’s character development. The choice of third person for Jerry somehow makes him more remote than Caitlin, restricting my empathy towards him.
Dalton has a gift with words, managing to arrange them in breath-taking sentences: “Blood and the sun were the pattern of her days and nights; pain and despair, interrupted by beauty—the soft pull of the scarlet sun; islands of cloud punctuating the run-on blue of the sky; huge scarlet blooms gashing the old wooden fences, brick walls mad with colour, and shadows, like black hands, moving.” Although her dialogue is vivid and believable, I found myself craving for more of her beautiful narrative descriptions. In Dalton’s case, less is most definitely not better when it comes to narrative, and I hope she provides us with a plethora of beautiful images in future novels.
The plot of the mystery was believable, but not complicated. Mystery readers probably would like a bit more challenge. I was a bit disappointed that the bad guy was a predictable dandy and a wimp. Nevertheless, this novel is not meant to be a production-type mystery-vacation read. The Girl in the Box is a true examination of the human heart and Dalton delivers it brilliantly.