Room, as five-year old Jack calls home, is the only place he's known. But for his mother, it's been her prison since she was abducted seven years ago. The story is compelling--a mother's love creates a world for her son in a single room, even as she grows more and more desperate.

Yet, I could not connect with the narrative. Told in the voice of Jack, the story felt contrived. It never felt like the story of a five-year old, but the story of a five-year old as told by an adult. Every few pages, I could forget what seemed to me a forced construction, but without fail, something Jack would say or observe would strike me as untrue to a five-year old's perspective.

Perhaps this narrative device helped lighten a story whose subject matter was intensely depressing, but ultimately, it seemed to sacrifice the integrity of the story.