Reviews with content warning for Child death - Rabbit Hole

In the interest of full disclosure, this review is specifically regarding an ARC copy of the audiobook from Net Galley, so while I imagine this audiobook was pretty close to finalized, some details may have been changed between my copy and the official release. Overall, I believe this book could have been improved with a little more consciousness of derogatory language and by easing the reader into the brutality of the narrative instead of putting a majority of the gory description

in an animal death scene

towards the beginning, which feels like it may ward people off of the book when that isn’t really the same level of visceral detail used throughout the rest of the book. Evening out the grisly details throughout the story or ramping them up towards the end instead could have done this some good. The strongest parts of this book, to me, were the characters and the complex interiority of the women central to it: Teddy, Mickey, Angie. The weakest aspect was in the twist, which was still relatively well-done, all things considered.

The pacing is fine: it’s quick and undaunting, unnoticeable. The structuring of the narrative was satisfactory, and doesn’t try to do anything fancy in presentation. Scene and chapter transitions were clear and uncomplicated. The use of exposition is concise, and conflict was relatively effective, feeling very intentionally written with an understanding of the messy dynamics that push human conflict. It wasn’t one of those cases of everything being driven by characters miscommunicating or being ignorant, but mostly, the actual flaws that real people have, the kneejerk impulse to lie and to spiral.

The syntax is clear without being too plain; there’s not a lot of repetition, and the few instances that stuck out to me are pretty spaced out and seem like parallels, feeling intentional rather than accidental or lazy. There aren’t really any instances where I feel it was over or under written: the prose is of medium density with a degree of ornamentation while the sentences are relatively unstuffed, not too much and not too little. Broadly, word choice feels very intentional, vacillating in a fantastic way between biting and aching.

Towards the beginning, there are a few scenes regarding animal death that felt heavy-handed and unnecessary. I don’t think the level of description

of dead kittens

was necessary for the metaphor being made

paralleling the kittens and their mother to Angie and Mark

. Some of the sex scenes are tired, but it almost feels intentional, particularly coming in when Teddy herself is trying to compensate the emptiness she feels with it, so I do think while I wouldn’t have missed them, those scenes pull their narrative weight. Overall, most of the scenes in this book do feel necessary. I’m ultimately glad I pushed through the couple of scenes that put me off.

It is worth noting that a bit of offensive and/or outdated language—for example, the usage of the R slur a couple times—is peppered through the book in a way that doesn’t really reflect anything more about the characters or add anything to the narrative. I wouldn’t have enjoyed that aspect even if it felt like there was a point, but it would have been at least more digestible if there was a critical lense being used there. Instead, it just seems out of place and pulled me out of an otherwise engaging narrative. The fact that word choice seemed so deliberate otherwise in the rest of the book made that aspect leave a worse taste in my mouth.

Character voice and dialogue are done very well here, and characterization is well-rounded and consistent. The development of the cast throughout the story is subtle but nuanced, and that feels incredibly real to me. They don’t end up right where they were, but they aren’t wholly different people on different journeys, either, not entirely. To me, the character dynamics were one of the shining parts of this book. There’s a lot of depth to the interactions they all have, the bones to pick and preoccupations, the good and the bad. All of the subplots are woven into the primary plotline masterfully, playing off of and paralleling each other; the narrative feels that much richer for it.

I think the matters of subject, theme, and message in this book are expertly layered. There’s a narrative throughline between the brutality of trauma voyeurism in true crime spaces, cruelty towards other living beings while remaining complicit, and being compassionate even when it hurts like a motherfucker and requires you to let someone go even if you don’t want to. In particular, there’s a potent recurring theme regarding rabbits—

baby bunnies being peeked at by Angie and Teddy in flashbacks, being told not to touch them and thus alienate them from their mother; the rabbit that Bill’s friend hunted and gave to him being served to Teddy, who comments on the rabbit’s “being murdered”, but still eats meat; the titular rabbit hole of true crime

—that I found incredibly impressive. The handling of grief as a theme is compelling, and often, I found it resonated a lot with me. The writing style is a good fit for the story being told. While I don’t tend to enjoy first person narration, it’s handled very well here. This is one of the few books I’ve read where I feel it being told in a different narrative perspective would have been a detriment.

This narrative as a whole is very well-crafted and coherent, and though there are some choices that I dislike, I do think I understand the vision. While I think would have been more effective for the

Mickey

twist to have either not been what it was or not existed. I initially expected the conclusion to the central mystery to further stick the knife to the problems in the true crime community, something where no one online was really “right,” where maybe there’s some answers but they aren’t satisfying for the internet sleuths. I don’t hate the way it ended, but I was pretty unsatisfied throughout the last couple of chapters before it.

For the most part, the major characters have pretty satisfying arcs.

I like the resolution we get for Teddy, and Mickey’s resolution is solid but open-ended. We leave their relationship on a bittersweet bruise of an image, the two of them talking and not really being able to close the gap. I don’t like Bill—his relationship with Angie just isn’t redeemable to me—and I find the solution between their relationship unsatisfactory but it seems like that’s the point: the unsatisfactory, not quite healthy relationships people are driven to by loneliness and tragedy.

I think Mickey was the most memorable of the characters, and Teddy is a close second.

I’d recommend this to adults who have a critical interest or complicated relationship with true crime. I wouldn’t recommend this to anyone who might be negatively impacted by vivid portrayal of topics of grief and animal death in particular. Personally, I’m interested in seeing what else the author will publish in the future, and would be interested in reading more from her.

Content Warnings

readingwithgoose's review against another edition

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dark emotional mysterious reflective sad fast-paced

4.0

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