A surprisingly existentially bleak and super-deliberately paced little thriller. For most of it I felt that the thriller format (in this case the classic man-falsely-accused-of-a crime or perhaps framed-for-a-crime plot) was a MacGuffin concealing and revealing (at the same time) the theme of the difficulty of carrying on a love affair in a social world--how the relations between two people are always mediated, even ruined, buy the meddling, interpretations, fears, and disapproval of those near to us but outside of the relationship--the crowd, the social world, all those "friends" who join the lynch mob in the end.
Without spoilers, about two thirds of the way through the novel things get even darker than that, and the drama becomes more like a Greek tragedy, begins looking like the disastrous outcome of a single, questionable act--as if the theme were simply fate, or fatality, and human powerlessness in a social world self-righteously obsessed with judgement. An act that is not in-and-of itself truly bad, but is understandably(!) misinterpreted by everyone on the outside and therefore leads to nothing short of disaster for everyone involved. In the end, The Cry of the Owl reminded me of no other novel so much as Camus's L'Etranger--the theme of which is "a white, Christian Algerian can get away with randomly shooting a Muslim Algerian, but you will not escape punishment if you don't cry at your own mother's funeral." I will leave this similarity between the two novels here in code so as not to spoil the plot of The Cry of the Owl for you if you haven't read it yet. You should. It's a quite satisfying American existentialist noir read.
The other notable aspect of the novel, for me, was its pacing--always key in this genre, I would say. The first half or so is recounted at an almost maniacally deliberate step-by-step pace. I'm sure some will think it slow but I absolutely reveled in the perfection of the narrative's speed (or lack thereof)--it created a drama of its own, a nearly magical tension. After the big event about 2/3 of the way through, I felt like the narrative went a bit rudderless, though, and was disappointed in/impatient with a couple of the chapters leading up to the quite satisfying and exciting denouement. Balancing pace with information must be one of the more difficult aspects of penning a thriller, I realized, finding a story whose information is communicable at a pace suitable to the suspense and satisfaction (pay-off of the suspense) that you want to produce in your reader. For most of this novel Highsmith hits the ideal speed and the information and events happen at a pace perfectly commensurate with the movement of the plot. I felt that the speed/event ratio got skewed towards the end, but certain events needed to happen in order for the climax to pay-off, so perhaps that's just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes--it got me thinking about the mechanics of thriller writing, though.