It’s always a pleasure to find a “one-sitting” book; the kind of book where I can sit out on my back porch and immerse myself in the author’s world for a few hours, experiencing the whole story from beginning to end. Each plot point and note remains fresh in my mind as I follow the protagonist through their journey, watching them grow as they overcome every obstacle and outwit every challenger.
Hildur Knutsdottir’s debut novella, The Night Guest is one such book. Her narrative is captivating, hooking the reader with its mystery and stringing them along with mounting tension and visceral horrors. We are introduced to Idunn, a young professional woman who is navigating the frustratingly misogynistic landscape of the medical world as she attempts to find an understanding and sympathetic doctor to help her with her constant fatigue. No matter how much sleep she gets at night, she awakens bone tired and sore in her arms and legs. The mystery deepens when she goes to sleep wearing a pedometer watch only to discover the next morning that in the night she had apparently taken 47,325 steps. Where is she going at night? What is she doing? And why are so many neighborhood cats suddenly missing? These are questions that we can only hope are answered within the thin volume of pages presented to the reader.
But therein lies a trick in the weight and shape of the physical book. The volume is thinner than the reader will realize. It doesn’t take long before the already short chapters become reduced to a single sentence or two on a page. It’s an effective method to add a sense of urgency as we turn page after page with barely a pause between each motion. However, the frequency in which this is deployed does two things that for me, took away from the experience and lessened its effectiveness. First, I became numb to the emotion it was meant to provoke. Like a teen slasher movie with too many jump scares, my nerves had settled and single sentence narratives became the norm. Second, I can’t help to feel that its a waste of paper.
The novella does deliver on the above questions while presenting many more that are unsatisfactorily answered. In fact, unless I just wasn’t careful enough with my reading, there is an issue of the significance of a broach that is never explained. The characters are fleshed out as much as can be expected through the constraints of a low word count and an unreliable narrator, with said narrator being thoroughly examined. She is at times sympathetic when dealing with medical professionals and interacting with characters with whom she does not feel completely accepted by or when commenting on the struggles of living in a patriarchal society (a favorite line of mine, “the patriarchy speaks with my mother’s voice”). She reveals some antisocial tendencies such as judgmental thoughts on others appearances that are minor enough to make her feel relatable. The shining jewel of the novella is the writing itself which is balances a simple straightforward style and brisk plotting with moments of biting societal observations that add splashes of color to the narrative.
Despite its abrupt and confounding conclusion, my overall experience with The Night Guest was positive. The mystery, the horror, and writing kept me glued from start to finish, though I walked away unfulfilled.
The Barberry Writers 