Book Review: Middle of the Night by Riley Sager
When I first heard that Riley Sager was releasing a new thriller, Middle of the Night, I couldn’t help but feel an electric sense of anticipation. As a fan of his previous works, I was eager to dive into another twisty narrative filled with mystery and psychological intrigue. And while the book certainly boasts Sager’s trademark atmospheric flair and captivating cover (seriously, how does he consistently create such stunning visuals?), it left me with a blend of confusion and unanswered questions.
At the heart of Middle of the Night is Ethan, a devastated man grappling with the haunting disappearance of his childhood friend, Billy. Sager immerses us in a world fraught with anxiety, toxic family dynamics, and emotional turmoil, offering a rich backdrop to the central mystery. The story tackles heavy themes—like grief, familial dysfunction, and the long shadows they cast over our lives. Yet, as I navigated Ethan’s emotional landscape, I couldn’t shake the feeling that his character lacked depth beyond his tragedy. His insomnia and obsession with his friend’s kidnapping often made him come off as more of a plot device than a well-rounded individual.
The storytelling style felt disjointed at times; Sager experiments with multiple perspectives and timelines, which can be intriguing but often left me grasping for clarity. With Ethan’s narrative meandering into the realms of the supernatural at points, I found myself questioning the realism that initially drew me into the story. While I appreciated the effort to weave in elements of suspense, the constant reiteration of Billy’s fate began to feel repetitive rather than revelatory. Hearing about "the middle of the night" ad nauseum dulled its impact rather than heightening tension.
Notably, Sager’s dive into a queer relationship for the first time under his pen name was a refreshing twist. However, the romantic moments felt interspersed among the chaos, often overshadowed by the relentless focus on the trauma surrounding Billy’s disappearance. This makes the book a compelling, albeit uneven, exploration of identity amidst anguish.
Some standout moments emerged, though. Ethan’s interactions with other characters illuminated Sager’s ability to create tension and ambiguity, especially with the mysterious allure of the Hawthorne Institute. The horror of confronting one’s childhood fears in a familiar landscape resonated with me, making me ponder how our past influences our present.
As I reached the resolution, I found it deeply unsatisfying. The conclusion felt rushed, leaving too many threads frayed. This is a thriller that dares to tackle complex emotions and dark themes but ultimately falls into the pit of cliché and predictability.
In conclusion, Middle of the Night will likely appeal to die-hard fans of Riley Sager and readers seeking a chilling exploration of grief and trauma wrapped in a thriller’s guise. Yet, if you’re new to his work or looking for tightly woven narratives, this might not be the best starting point. For me, it was a mixed experience—an intriguing premise that faltered in execution, leaving me with more questions than answers. I’m eager to hear how others perceive the evolving narrative style and the overarching themes Sager navigated. If you decide to pick this one up, prepare for a ride that’s as disorienting as it is engrossing. Happy reading!