“Once there was a widow with three sons, and their names were Black, Brown and Blue. Black was the eldest; moody and aggressive. Brown was the middle child, timid and dull. But Blue was his mother's favourite. And he was a murderer.”
The fantasies Blueyedboy plays out online and his obsession with Albertine consumes his entire life, just as this book will consume yours, reader.
I expected a twisted, odd and surprising read from Joanne Harris, having read a couple of her books including Chocolat and The Lollipop Shoes, but this one really threw me. A couple of times when I picked up the book, I even wondered to myself: “Should I even be reading this?” “Should I really be reading about some twisted, lonely, disturbed middle-aged man’s murder fantasies?” “Should anyone?”
It’s like when we pick up a newspaper or open a news website – we know we shouldn’t get excited when someone gets murdered, but as soon as we see the words “murder” or “homicide” in a headline, it’s the first story we read. If there’s anything I learnt as a journalist, it’s that bad news sells.So although it was a major change from what I usually read, and despite the “wow that sounds really sadistic” response from Josh when I read him the synopsis, I continued reading and somehow ended up liking the sadistic man in question, aka blueeyedboy - murder fantasies, cowardice and all. That was, until the end - an ending that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't guess, and one that I won't ruin for you except to say this - it's good.
If you want to challenge your morals and question your faith in introverts, I suggest you pick up this book, but pick it up with an open mind as you should any Joanne Harris book, because you never know what damning twist she’s got waiting for you around the corner.
