Barron's first novel suffers from short-story-itis to the point of literally having a character tell a ghost story about 35 percent of the way through the book. Similarly, the same descriptions are repeated and repeated as if we were reading them for the first time and not the ninth.  The other rather grotesque flaw is an early diversion to Mexico that winkingly toys with racist stereotype - ah, the characters just making fun of the clueless white narrator, don't get mad, maybe it's you who are the real racist! (extremely obvious wink) 

Despite these speed bumps, Barron clearly stakes out a fairytale Lovecraftian story, a Bluebeard's husband scenario where a guy is in love and so blinds himself to what's happening around him. And that, specifically, is the thrust of the novel. All the shit about adventuring academics and government agents can and do drop out of mind when considering the relationship at the core and how it evolved. One seeks in re-reading to understand how it must have looked from the other side. A marvelous first novel, and, thankfully, slowly tacking away from Barron's usual tics.