(3.5⭐️) Many thanks to my friends at @knopf for a gifted e-copy of this book.  

 

A few years ago, I devoured Will Dean’s The Last Thing to Burn.  It is an intensely horrifying novel about abduction that made me feel trapped within its pages.  The trauma and tragedy were impeccably portrayed in the victim’s pov, and I recommended it to everyone.  (I still recommend it to everyone! If you haven’t read it yet, this is your sign.)

 

So when I saw the premise for this book… a serial killer/kidnapper and the 3 women surrounding him… I jumped in excitedly, expecting it to expound on Dean’s premise.  

 

But here’s the catch.  The Quiet Tenant is marketed as an intense thriller.  It’s not.  No mystery.  No suspense.  (The synopsis pretty much tells you everything.) There’s no sense of dread or looming danger.  My pulse didn’t race.  My heart wasn’t in my throat.  

 

Instead, this is a character study.  It’s an intimate look inside the minds of three women orbiting one nice-looking, well-respected man with sinister hobbies.  

 

Had I known that going in, I would have likely enjoyed this book much more.  

 

Of the three perspectives, the one most interesting to me was that of the kidnapped woman, Rachel.  The explanations of how she survived.  The constant anxiety over what was to come.  Her ongoing list of rules for not getting killed.  

 

The psychological impact of captivity is felt in Rachel’s portrayal of mundane life, often handcuffed to a radiator.  Maybe most interesting was the tangled web of emotions she began to feel for her captor, ranging from understanding to hatred, showcasing a degree of Stockholm Syndrome.  

 

But even after finishing this read, I was left with so many questions:  Why did he let her live when all the others died?  What were the things Cecilia had never told anyone but wanted to tell Rachel, though never did?  When did Aidan turn to murder…had he always been a killer?  

 

I liked this read.  But I never felt the deep emotional connection I expected.