The Somnambulist by Jonathan Barnes
… I’m thoroughly divided as to the sort of review I want to give The Somnambulist. On the one hand, despite some flaws, for most of the book, it was one of the most fun reads I’ve had in a while. On the other hand, the last 40 pages or so were just downright bad. I don’t mean simply disappointingly bad relative to the rest of the book, but off-the-rails, what-the-heck-happened, did- the-author-die-and-then-some-stranger-finish-the-book terrible kind of bad. Which leaves me with a dilemma… Read the rest.
I am so glad to hear someone else say this. I was reading along in this book quite happily until the big narrator reveal. At that point the whole story went off the rails for me. I finished the book angry at how Barnes had wasted my time and a pretty good setup. For anyone thinking of reading this book, I would recomment Jedediah Berry’s “The Manual of Detection” instead. I may read more from Barnes hoping that his skills grow and his work becomes more satisfying, but I can’t recommend this unbalanced work to anyone else just for the flashes of wonderful to be found in it.
Sad, but I’m glad I’ve read the review. It’s hard to enjoy a good read that ends badly.
I have to say that the more I’ve seen of people who’ve read it, the more I rethink even the heavily qualified recommendation here. The sequel was OK, but not much better than that, so I think as Rick mentions, there’s still more growth needed for a fully satisfactory reading
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