“Nick Nick Nick… I love you, Nick.
“When he lifted his head she told him so, and so of course he kissed her again, quick and hard but amazingly thoroughly for all that. She was still reeling from it when he pulled his mouth from hers.”
That might just be the worst-written passage in Karen Robards novel Obsession, although there are other candidates. To be fair, a lot of the writing in her book is better than the above, but her style can be repetitive and riddled with clichés. For example, all of the main and several of the minor characters, at some point, “fish” things out of some recess or other. (I myself fished the book out of the wastebasket where I threw it after I had finished reading it.)
Ordinarily it does not matter how I came to read a book, but this odd book came to me in an odd way. I was sitting in the public library, quite bored, and I reached out for the first book that caught my eye. Its cover advertised it as being a New York Times bestselling suspense novel. Robards has evidently written many suspense novels, but this is the first that I have read. Anyway, I read the first several pages and took it home.
Robards’ genre is a mix of suspense and romance, but you probably already guessed that.
One thing that Robards delivers is action, even if the protagonist sometimes has an odd way of reporting the action. What kept me reading is the puzzling way that Robards handles perception. The plotting certainly raises more questions than it answers, at least at first. The trouble is whether the answers are actually satisfying when they come. (Which is largely why my final impulse was to toss this potboiler into the wastebasket.)
The prologue introduces an FBI agent named Nick who hears a desperate message on his answering machine that compels him to rush to his sister’s house, only to find that she appears to have committed suicide. Nick’s brother-in-law says that she was driven to suicide by a blackmailer, and Nick vows to discover the identity of the blackmailer and exact retribution.
Next comes chapter one, set nearly fourteen months later, and the only thing in common between the story in the prologue and the one that begins in chapter one seems to be that both take place in Alexandria, Virginia, which is located near Washington, DC.
A new character, Katharine, is in the midst of being terrorized by a pair of home invaders. One masked man is threatening Katharine and her friend Lisa with a knife, while the other man trashes the living room, looking for a safe. The man with the knife seems to think Katharine knows where it is. She says she doesn’t, and I think the reader is meant to believe her. It is the perfect nightmare: Someone is threatening to kill you if you don’t give them what they want, and you have no way of giving it to them.
Lisa dies, but Katharine manages to escape when someone, apparently a neighbor, interrupts. Not before Katharine sustains a concussion, though. She wakes up a few hours later in the hospital, unable to account for a lot of what has happened. When her boyfriend, Ed, calls on the phone in her hospital room, she does not recognize his voice. It does not help that he talks to her with as much sympathy as he might treat an employee who had not done her job properly. Then, when she looks in the mirror, she does not even recognize herself. Her hair color and even her physique have changed, and she does not remember changing them.
“AMA” stands for “against medical advice” and that is how Katharine leaves the hospital—without telling anyone. She relies on her instincts, which tell her not to trust anybody. Not her boyfriend, and not even her neighbor, Dan, who happens to be a doctor and sat by her bedside until she came to. She is forced to rely on him, though, even accepting a ride home from him, although his medical advice is that she ought to go back to the hospital. Katharine trusts him only up to a point. She does not want to tell him that she is afraid that anyone could be someone who wants to hurt her. Even—or especially—her boyfriend, Ed, who happens to be a CIA officer.
At this point, we are one hundred pages and several chapters into the novel and still do not know what is going on except that Katharine is clearly in trouble and has nobody she can fully trust. Can she confide in Dan? Will he turn out to be another villain? And how does Nick, the prologue’s protagonist, fit into the story? One thing is for sure, and that is that Robards is playing a dangerous authorial game with her characters’ identities. Katharine does not trust who she is herself, and she has no grounds for trusting that anyone else is who they say they are.
How can Katharine be so deeply in the dark about who she is? A concussion could explain a great deal, but perhaps not everything. The reader must be forgiven for imagining that the author has layered in a metaphysical conundrum worthy of science fiction author Philip K. Dick, who often played with questions of identity. Yet the reader might suspect, with more assurance, that there will be, finally, a logical explanation for everything.
Robards is competent at plotting suspense, but I find her language repetitive and cliché ridden. Occasionally, she throws in the name of a thing—a newel post, for example—that she probably had to look up, but easily could have done without naming. (I admit to giving in to the same obsession in my own writing, but I recognize that it is not my best quality as a writer, and it is not Robard’s, either.)
To nitpick, I noticed that on page 108, the author begins a sentence, “With her periphery vision, she saw….” Then on page 127 she begins a sentence, “With her peripheral vision she saw….” This wording and comma placement are exactly as they appear in the book and seem to be the result of bad proofreading.
Then there are the not-quite-authentic details. The descriptions of the silenced gunshots that kill Katharine’s friend early in the book and the villain during the climax suggest that the author has never heard suppressed gunfire, except in the movies where it is always presented as being much quieter than it actually is.
Another oddity: The author repeatedly capitalizes “Dumpster” as if it were a trademark, which it once was, going back to the 1930s, but it has since become a generic term and can be written in lower case as “dumpster” without fear of complaint from the original patentholder.
BTW Robard’s description of eating McDonald’s takeout is one of the most unappetizing accounts of the effect of a poor meal on an otherwise hungry customer that I have ever read. McDonald’s is never going to endorse this novel for its product placement.
This book presents a strange and seemingly metaphysical problem whereby the female protagonist doubts not only her identity. (Is her name even really Katharine?) She further questions some aspects of physical reality. The reader will surely wonder how the author is going to resolve this puzzle and connect Katharine’s story to that of Nick, the main character in the prologue. Meanwhile, Katharine gets involved with a man she is simultaneously attracted to and afraid of. It is an action-packed, formulaic novel, combining the clichés of suspense with those of the softest soft-core romance novel. The only true novelty lies in wondering how the author will solve the problems she has created. Amnesia and PTSD only seem like partial solutions in need of supplements and I was not overly satisfied when the solution arrived. Even though it does make sense, it is a bit pat.
The most interesting question is what the title means. Who is obsessed? This question is answered satisfactorily at the climax. It is certainly not Katharine, as the reader might suspect. The P.O.V. is a noteworthy experiment. The Prologue and final chapter are written from Nick’s perspective, while the books other 28 chapters are written from that of the female protagonist.
I did not pay anything for this book, and I suspect I will not read another book by Robards, unless I am ever again bored while sitting in a public library, and reach out for the first book I see, and somehow do not realize that Robards is the author.
Back to the wastebasket.