Another month, another book. That’s what I though at least when I first picked up ‘The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle’. Little did I know that what I had actually picked up was not another book, no; this was in fact 500 pages of sheer edge of my seat, heart in my mouth, sweat on my brow mindfuckery. Never before have I read a book that has had me so utterly and terrifyingly gripped as this, to say I was enjoying it in a traditional sense would be untrue as I had to actually pluck up the nerve to open it again every day, my heartbeat racing, my palms clammy as I shakily moved to discover the next steps on the greatest take on the closed room murder mystery I have ever come across.
Imagine Cluedo, the family board game we all know and love. Now imagine playing Cluedo except you’re blind, you don’t have a score card, you can’t remember the names of the people you’re playing with and you have 40 different possible murderers. Also you’re being stabbed every twenty minutes. That’s a nicer version of figuring out exactly what is happening in Seven Deaths.
The intricacies of this story, the web that is literally woven over the events that take place in Blackheath is so fine, is so voracious in its attention to detail that if you don’t take a minute to work out what the hell has just happened and how this event refers back to the previous events you’ll quickly find yourself with your head spinning, the pages laughing at you for not giving them the attention they deserve. This is not a ‘sit back and relax’ book, this is a full on, glasses on, lean forward in your seat and ‘engage your brain’ book.
As ever, I’m not going to go into the details or the plot of the book (seriously, for this one you should just read it), and for this book that is so important that I can barely go into it at all, every strand, every thread vibrates the web and brings the spider of plot out. Even the blurb contains a spoiler that I frankly don’t think should be on there as it contains a key aspect to the beginning strands that has consequences later on. If you’re reading this before the book, don’t look at the blurb!
What I will write about is the incredible mood that the author is able to create. The process by which he is able to draw the reader along the narrative, maintain a sense of intense danger whilst somehow also being darkly humorous and at times even a little campy is frankly nothing short of impressive. The images throughout that are conjured are those of dark mystique, vintage Noire style crossed with a whodunit crossed with a ghost story, the pace shifting sharply from chapter to chapter, taking us running through the dark twisted halls of Blackheath House along with our characters. Throughout the book there is an air of unknown, of a shroud being wrapped tightly around the narrative and the physical locations we are taken to. Darkness, blackness and loss are the core themes, a veil that we slowly break through as more details are revealed, as more threads are tied together, grasped at and held forward as a blade to cut through the mystery of Blackheath.
There is an element of personal accomplishment too as we progress, so engrossed in the characters voyage we become that as they discover the latest twist point, the latest detail that may mean the difference between life and death that we consider ourselves to be the one to need congratulating as it’s figured out. Of course this is tied into the crucial element of any murder mystery story, the joy of working it out for yourself before the protagonist does. This is how you truly weigh a good book of this sort, if you’ve discovered the killer for yourself by the first third of the book then why continue? Likewise, if you’ve got to wait until the last page before some unseen, unlikely twist occurs then equally, what’s the point? A truly great mystery story has you working things out just moments before your character does, a rush of realisation followed by a desperate need to read the next five pages to make sure your theory is correct. Seven Deaths does this continually, over and over you find yourself figuring something out, then having it excitingly confirmed. Or even better than this, figuring something out, only to realise you’ve been led astray, then oh no wait, you were right all along, or were you? It’s a rollercoaster of guessing, second guessing and anticipation that ensures your resting heart rate is never reached whilst your hands clutch the cover, white-knuckle.
The characters in Seven Deaths manage to add to this atmosphere. Impressively, despite there being a full cast of them ranging beyond about 20, we are presented with some extraordinarily clever character development. Inner demons battle with the need to penetrate the darkness of the House and its grounds, the desperate task of finding the murderer, and it’s complex side-quests, overriding the deplorable needs and machinations of those that we are forced to go along with. The way we are drawn in to the intrigue brings us along with our protagonist, along with his battles against mysterious villains and all too familiar ones, each member of the entourage reflecting elements of ourselves in the inexorable push towards the climax of the novel.
As ever, there are flaws in the book. At times you feel as though the repetition of matters can be a hindrance, despite being necessary for the story. Particularly early on there is the possibility that the less patient reader may put it down never to pick it up again. Further, the length means that the complexity can at times be beguiling, there are points where an important twist comes through related to a matter only discussed a full 300 pages prior (personally I see this as a sign of impressive writing, though I can see how this can be frustrating for a slower reader). Finally, as I’ve mentioned, at times it can get really fucking dark, and I can see how that would put some people off. But then that’s entirely the point of it all, that’s the point of the whole book, so why not embrace that, revel in it and let yourself help our ‘hero’ along his journey to try and break that darkness? If, then there’s not a lot of point in even trying this, after all, the title literally references a woman dying 7 times, there’s a clue there.
All in all, this fiercely dark, frighteningly gripping novel has a fascinating power that, though not making it a traditionally ‘pleasant read’ it us unavoidably an exciting one. Put on your detectives hat, load up your revolver and climb into a carriage on its way to Blackheath house because my god is it worth it.
