I picked this up at an airport book store because grabbing a paperback to entertain one's self while in transit is a time-honored human tradition. Flights are one of the few places nowadays that we are really cut off from the general hubbub of life-post-internet, life-post-smartphone, life-post-5G. During my flight, my airline proudly announced that they would soon have in-flight wifi coverage for all domestic flights, and I realized that very soon -- if not already -- this last little respite will be gone. I suppose there's still long-distance cruises, but I bet they'll have steady wifi soon too. Maybe they already do. I've never been on a cruise.
All this to say, I picked up this book because I was chasing an anachronistic experience, nostalgia not just for an airport book, but for when books were our go-to diversion. When people wrote fretting, concern-trolling screeds about how reading was ruining the youth. When the transit hub was a train station and not an airport. (I suppose it still can be, in countries blessedly lucky enough not to have the extreme car fetish that the US inflicted on itself.)
Unfair as this may be to the author and the translator, the book itself was sort of secondary to the experience. Well, not secondary, no -- the book was definitely central in the "buying and reading a book in transit" experience, but it wasn't central in the way it would be to a regular "picking up a book to read for pleasure" experience. I wanted a book that would be fast, transporting, and perhaps a little bad. Perhaps even very bad, so long as it wasn't so awful that I resented spending money on it. That was another key factor: it had to be cheap enough to feel casual. And it had to be a paperback. I essentially wanted something pulp, something to light up my brain a bit and then make me a bit embarrassed to have read it. Something I could shrug and say, "it was an airport read."
Was this that book? Hard to say. It was a quick read. It was relatively cheap. It was a paperback. It was twisty and punchy enough to be engaging. The violence against animals was a bit more than I wanted from an airport read, though. In fact, it was a lot more. The reflections on motherhood didn't feel fully married to the ideas about cruelty to animals, and (unfair as this may be on my part!) I didn't want to reflect on these themes too much while I was reading. I mostly wanted a diversion. Still, I was interested until the end, and it gave me something to talk about on the car ride home from the airport.
So, would I recommend this book? If you like crime fiction or stories with serial killers, it might be good for you. (There isn't a serial killer in this book, but the cruelty to animals seems like the kind of thing you might get in that sort of crime fiction, so maybe you'd have more of a stomach for it.) It is very short, but I don't know if it was an ideal airport read.
And yet, maybe my vague disappointment after reading it is just right. It was very fun to search for it at the little airport bookshop, to select it out from all the others, and then to hold it, turning these pages and not having to worry about it running out of battery. Next time I have a flight, I'd like to buy another.