The Soft Talkers

by Margaret Millar

A Canadian businessman living near Toronto disappears on the eve of a fishing trip with friends. Is he dead? Has he been the lover of his wife's best friend? Soon these questions appear to be answered...

Genres: Mystery, Fiction, Crime, Canada, Noir, Mystery Thriller, Suspense

218 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1957

About the author

Margaret Ellis Millar (née Sturm) was an American-Canadian mystery and suspense writer. Born in Kitchener, Ontario, she was educated there and in Toronto. She moved to the United States after marrying Kenneth Millar (better known under the pen name Ross Macdonald). They resided for decades in the city of Santa Barbara, which was often utilized as a locale in her later novels under the pseudonyms of San Felice or Santa Felicia.

Millar's books are distinguished by sophistication of characterization. Often we are shown the rather complex interior lives of the people in her books, with issues of class, insecurity, failed ambitions, loneliness or existential isolation or paranoia often being explored with an almost literary quality that transcends the mystery genre. Unusual people, mild societal misfits or people who don't quite fit into their surroundings are given much interior detail. In some of the books we are given chilling and fascinating insight into what it feels like to be losing touch with reality and evolving into madness. In general, she is a writer of both expressive description and yet admirable economy, often ambitious in the sociological underpinnings of the stories and the quality of the writing.

Millar often delivers effective and ingenious "surprise endings," but the details that would allow the solution of the surprise have usually been subtly included, in the best genre tradition. One of the distinctions of her books, however, is that they would be interesting, even if you knew how they were going to end, because they are every bit as much about subtleties of human interaction and rich psychological detail of individual characters as they are about the plot.

Millar was a pioneer in writing intelligently about the psychology of women. Even as early as the '40s and '50s, her books have a very mature and matter-of-fact view of class distinctions, sexual freedom and frustration, and the ambivalence of moral codes depending on a character's economic circumstances. Her earliest novels seem unusually frank. Read against the backdrop of Production Code-era movies of the time, they remind us that life as lived in the '40s and '50s was not as black-and-white morally as Hollywood would have us believe.

While she was not known for any one recurring detective (unlike her husband, whose constant gumshoe was Lew Archer), she occasionally used a detective character for more than one novel. Among her occasional ongoing sleuths were Canadians Dr. Paul Prye (her first invention, in the earliest books) and Inspector Sands (a quiet, unassuming Canadian police inspector who might be the most endearing of her recurring inventions). In the California years, a few books featured either Joe Quinn, a rather down-on-his-luck private eye, or Tom Aragorn, a young, Hispanic lawyer.
Sadly, most of Millar's books are out of print in America, with the exception of the short story collection The Couple Next Door and two novels, An Air That Kills and Do Evil In Return, that have been re-issued as classics by Stark House Press in California.

In 1956 Millar won the Edgar Allan Poe Awards, Best Novel award for Beast in View. In 1965 she was awarded the Woman of the Year Award by the Los Angeles Times. In 1983 she was awarded the Grand Master Award by the Mystery Writers of America in recognition of her lifetime achievements.

Reviews

[Francesc · Rating 2 out of 5]

La trama no tiene el más mínimo interés. Parece una telenovela barata del domingo por la tarde. Un aburrimiento total.
Una lectura insípida.

The plot does not have the slightest interest. It looks like a cheap soap opera on Sunday afternoon. Total boredom.
A tasteless read.

[James Thane · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a fairly intense psychological thriller, set in Canada, that was first published in 1957, and which seems a bit dated at this point.

As the book opens, four men are preparing to go on a weekend fishing trip. The four, who are best friends, are to meet at a rural lodge which is owned by the wealthiest of the four and which is to be their weekend headquarters. However, Ron Galloway, the owner of the lodge, clearly has other plans as he is packing to leave his house in town, and he never makes it out to the lodge.

The other three men, including Galloway's best friend, Harry Breem, can't imagine what might have happened to him. Harry is a pharmaceutical rep, and is one of those mild mannered guys without much strength of character--the kind of guy who never seems to take charge of his life, but who rather helplessly watches it roll over him.

Harry married a bit late in life, and his wife, Thelma, is more than a little quirky herself. Esther, Galloway's wife doesn't like her at all. Galloway insists that he doesn't care much for Thelma either and claims that he tolerates her simply because she's the wife of his best friend.

When Galloway disappears, without ever reaching the lodge, his friends and the police begin an intensive search and in the process, Galloway's friends discover things about him--and about themselves--that they might have been better off not knowing. It would be unfair to say much more than that about the plot, and this is another case in which the tease for the book probably gives away too much. Suffice it to say that the tension builds to a surprising climax.

This is not a crime novel in the traditional sense; certainly it's not the sort of book that Millar's husband, Ross Macdonald would have written. But it's interesting to watch the principal characters in the book react to the developments that unfold. Millar had a long and distinguished career herself and this is a book that will appeal to those who want a broad understanding of how the crime fiction genre has evolved over the years.

[Bill · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've read a couple of Margaret Millar's stories before; they can be hard to find. I enjoyed them quite a bit, as she has a very accessible writing style. The Soft Talkers, also published under the name An Air That Kills was a pleasure to read. It was a perfect little mystery. Millar has such a smooth writing style, even little details like "she buttoned up her sweater to the very top", fill the story and make it even better. The story basically deals with the disappearance of Ron Galloway, who is supposed to meet his buddies at a cabin he owns north of Toronto, Ontario, Canada. He never shows up and the rest of the story deals with the follow-on reactions of his friends and family and the follow-on search for him. The story is told from the perspective of his variuos friends and his wife and also even small sub-stories by side characters. Even these sub-stories are interesting and so well-written. It's a story that I just enjoyed reading and the ending had a nice surprise that I actually didn't see coming. Being Canadian, I also enjoyed the setting; the city of Toronto and cottage country north of Toronto. The story was written in 1957 and in some ways reminds me of some of the Patricia Highsmith stories I've read, just better. Such a simple but entertaining read, clear, concise and intelligently written. I highly recommend.

[Carla Remy · Rating 4 out of 5]

08/2018

From 1957.
Margaret Millar wrote mysteries that are not just mysteries. I mean, it seems like a different genre almost... but there is an ending that is a solution to a mystery. In this case. But it is so much more.

[Bibliophile · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another excellent psychological thriller from Margaret Millar, whose works are now available as ebooks. Hooray! This one, as the others, is eminently readable. It takes place in Toronto and concerns a disappearance among a group of friends. They're the kind of friends who also function as enemies, and Millar expertly unveils their strained relationships and small resentments. It's fairly dark stuff, but also darkly humorous. I don't get the feeling the author was being cynical, it's more like back in the day (this one was written in 1957) people didn't take themselves so terribly seriously. Ending was a little abrupt, but the trip there was hugely enjoyable.

[Elizabeth (Alaska) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Honestly, I don't know why Margaret Millar isn't read more frequently. To my thinking, she is better than Ruth Rendell's stand alone novels. There is always something slightly off kilter about some of her characters. Maybe others are more discerning, but I never seem to be able to zero in on what or who is the deception.

In this, mega wealthy Ron Galloway disappears. OK, so that isn't the real deception. Through forecasting, we know Esther, his wife, will never see him again and so we can expect a dead body eventually. Thelma Bream, wife of Harry Bream, is in love with Ron. Thelma is a little scatter-brained while Esther is the consummate shrew. So it comes as no surprise that Thelma and Ron have been having an affair. No deception here, right?

I loved the pitch perfect ending. Maybe others were able to see it coming, but I did not. Note to self: read more Margaret Millar and be sure to color in the 4th star for this one.

[B.V. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Margaret Millar (1915-1994) was married to Kenneth Millar, better known as crime fiction author Ross MacDonald, but despite having an Edgar Award and over 25 novels to her credit (with some critics saying she was the better writer of the two), she never gained the same popularity as her husband.

The Millars made a good writing team, such as the times Margaret helped her husband with dialogue. "I did teach him to write better dialogue so that everybody didn't sound like him. In the first two books, all of the characters talked like Ken! I don't even know anybody who talks like Ken. And I told him he had to listen...And we went around to a lot of places: pawn shops, low bars...And he realized how different people talk." Apparently, Kenneth also once said that the best lines usually resulted from the many arguments the couple had.

The Soft Talkers is the U.K. title for Margaret Millar's novel from 1957, originally released in the U.S. as An Air That Kills. It follows the seemingly perfect married couple, Harry and Thelma Bream. Harry's best friend Ron Galloway invites his pals to his lakeside hunting lodge for the weekend, but then fails to show up. The worried friends call Galloway's house and speak to his wife, Esther, to find out what's keeping him, but the wife tells them Galloway left a long time ago. Then Thelma drops the bombshell on friend-caught-in the-middle Ralph Turee that she is pregnant with Ron's child. The investigation grows cold, and it isn't until much time has passed, when Ron is found dead buckled into his submerged convertible, that the even colder, twisted truth comes to light.

Millar's attention to dialogue is evident, part of the meticulous detail she gives to building her characters. Although she admittedly wasn't a fan of action-driven plots, her meticulous weaving of plot, clues and misdirection are all in fine form here, as is her zingy prose, examples of which you can find on nearly every page, like these:

--He had a sensation that he and Harry were stationary and the night was moving past them swiftly, turbulent with secrets. To the right the bay was visible in the reflection of a half moon. The waves nudged each other and winked slyly and whispered new secrets.

--Thelma, the day-dreamer, who fed her mediocrity with meaty chunks of dreams until it was fat beyond her own recognition. Under this system of mental dietetics Thelma became a woman equpped with great psychic powers...

--It was merely the skeleton of the truth. Only an expert could add the flesh and blood and muscle and all the vital organs that would make it a whole, borrowing a little here, a little there...

Although it's a shame Millar isn't as well known as MacDonald, it's nice to see that a couple of her novels have been reissued recently by Stark House Press. Maybe new readers can discover why Anthony Boucher said of her writing, "Devilishly devious trick-plotting given substance by acute and terrifying psychological insight."

[Emanuela · Rating 2 out of 5]

Non mi ha fatto impazzire, il finale lo avevo immaginato, mi mancava giusto qualche collegamento, alcuni personaggi insopportabili. Due stelle e non una solo perché è un giallo...e a me i gialli piacciono. :D

[Andrew Diamond · Rating 4 out of 5]

Margaret Millar’s 1957 novel has a simple setup: a bunch of men in their late thirties are meeting for a weekend away from the wives and kids at a remote country lodge to fish, play poker, and drink. Only one of them never arrives. The boys call the wives, and together they reconstruct a picture of where Ron Galloway was last seen and where he was headed.

Millar’s novels of the mid to late 1950s are brilliant studies of what actually goes on under the surface of middle-class American and Canadian life. (This one happens to take place in and around Toronto. Millar herself was from Kitchner, Ontario.)

The missing pal, Ron Galloway, was last seen with Thelma Bream, the wife of his best friend, Harry. This is the very woman Galloway’s wife Ester had accused him of having an affair with in the opening chapter. In Millar’s novels, as soon as you scratch the surface of placid domestic life, you find the whole living organism pulsing not so placidly beneath.

Millar is a psychologist, sociologist, ethnographer and a superb writer. Her books are like time capsules containing not only the artifacts of the world she’s portraying, but the people as well.

Her characters are all flawed in recognizable ways. They’re all people we have known. Millar doesn’t waste much time on backstory, because she doesn’t need to. Her characters are richly drawn through dialog, action, and description.

Even her throwaway descriptions of minor characters are rich and striking, like this one of the lodge’s groundskeeper, MacGregor, who manages the fishing boat (the Estron):

MacGregor and only MacGregor operated the boat. He did not insist on this prerogative, he merely let it be understood that the Estron was high-spirited and temperamental, and, like any such woman, needed a strong and knowing hand if she were to avoid the disastrous impulses of her nature.

Of course, that’s tongue-in-cheek. MacGregor’s view of high-spirited women, not the author’s. But it’s also characteristic of Millar’s humor.

On a side note, I started to wonder whether the ill-tempered Scottish groundskeeper MacGregor was the model for the Simpson’s Groundskeeper Willie. Like Willie, MacGregor resents many of his duties and expresses his resentment in passive-aggressive ways, like purposely burning the breakfast he doesn’t want to cook. Here’s the exchange when one of the guests offers to take over the cooking:

“Things got a mite burned,” MacGregor said with satisfaction, as he removed the apron and handed it to Turee. “It’s the will of the Lord.”

“It’s a funny thing that whenever the Lord picks something to be burned He chooses you as His instrument.”

“Aye, sir, it’s peculiar.”

In the mystery genre, as in romance, there are only so many plots to be explored. It’s the nature and the depth of the exploration that make a book worthwhile or not. This one happens to be about a group of friends who have drifted into middle age, whose lives have diverged in some ways, whose relationships have strained to accomodate wives and families. Sometimes that strain becomes too much, and as people spend a premium on maintaining social balance, all it takes a shock event to reveal the darkness beneath the surface.

Millar paints living characters in brilliant prose, and from those characters, she builds a complex world in which all the pieces fit together. The motives, strengths and weaknesses of each character play into the actions of the others, and all of it fits together into a rich whole.

Millar was a top-selling novelist in her day. Her husband, Kenneth, also a mystery writer, had to choose the pen name Ross MacDonald to avoid giving the impression that he was trying to ride to fame on her coattails. MacDonald is still widely read, but Millar isn’t, and that’s a shame, because she’s brilliant.

[Bill FromPA · Rating 4 out of 5]

Margaret Millar has the storytelling chops to go up against the best. This tale of how an act of adultery and a resulting pregnancy affects a group of middle- to upper-class Torontonians reads like an updated version, circa 1957, of one of the novellas of Arthur Schnitzler; a "game of love and death", as one English Schnitzler anthology is titled.
Millar also, Dickens-like, indulges very minor characters with chapters of their own: an old woman who doesn't want her daughter looking in her purse, a Mennonite schoolgirl who finds a fancy hunting cap while taking the long way to school, a brash young would-be reporter with few scruples and very little physical courage. In a more plot-driven book, these characters would barely get a subordinate clause worth of attention, but here we get a thumbnail sketch of their world, their personalities, and their attitudes and aspirations before learning how their minor tributaries feed into the river of plot.
But Millar seems limited by her chosen genre. The novels I've read by her all have a surprise twist at the end, some variation on the least-likely suspect idea, that upends the story that the reader thought they were reading and casts it in an entirely different light. This kind of surprise may delight mystery readers, but for me it tends to undercut the humanity of the story; characters one has followed as actual human beings with their own individual motivations and psychology come to be seen, in the light of the revealed ending, as having been something like simulacra, put into motion by the author in service of that twist ending. Instead of an epiphany giving a hint of insight into the human condition what we get is authorial cleverness, more like a magic act than a drama.

An note unrelated to the above:When the teacher of the Mennonite schoolgirl mentioned above finds that the child has been wandering to school through some relatively isolated areas, she is concerned.

She tried to explain patiently that little girls didn't go to lonely beaches by themselves because there were some bad men in the world who might do nasty things to them.

This reminded me of my objections to Housekeeping , where the author did not seem to show a sufficient appreciation of the dangers posed by those "bad men" in lonely places.

[Marta · Rating 5 out of 5]

*4.5
WELL... this was really good!!
There were only a few pages that were a little boring, but the story and the plot twist!! They really got me... Definitely recommend this book

[Russell Atwood · Rating 4 out of 5]

a great ride, beautifully written, a masterful work

[Jack Heath]

Synopsis: Ron's friends have all arrived at his Ontario lakeside lodge for a guys' weekend. But where's the host? Then his suspicious wife arrives.

[Kerry · Rating 4 out of 5]

Solid thriller written in the 1950s, good dialogue, was tired of the tiresome retread modern thrillers. Will look for more by this author and her husband, Ross Macdonald

[Hobart Mariner · Rating 3 out of 5]

Adultery - Canadian style. Some alright passages and deftly sketched minor characters. The idea that a businessman getting divorced would be Province-level news tells you something about 1950s in The 6. Preposterous twist that you can see coming (?) and also seemingly belies some of the earlier specific POV chapters. I learned about the mint-like herb horehound (Marrubium vulgare) from this novel.

[Naomi Clare · Rating 4 out of 5]

Her books are just so compulsively readable damn. Did not like this as much as the other two I’ve read but still really liked it! Will definitely be reading more.

[Debbi Mack · Rating 4 out of 5]

Margaret Millar was without question a talented writer of mystery and suspense novels. Wife of Kenneth Millar (better known as Ross MacDonald), some say she exceeded her husband in writing ability, if not in fame among the general public.

AN AIR THAT KILLS makes great reading, too. Millar had a way with dialogue—her characters could be pathetic, sarcastic, annoying or droll and she had an eye for detail and an ear for the spoken word that just nailed each of them.

And Millar could set you up like no one else. Her stories had a way of leading you down a primrose path, only to leave you staring at a trash heap, realizing she really had you going all along. And the clues to where you ended up were all hiding in plain sight, in retrospect. These things are all true, if you aren’t already familiar with her work.

See, I’ve already read Millar before—HOW LIKE AN ANGEL, another convoluted story that kept the reader guessing up to the last line, no less—and actually figured out the big surprise before I got to that line. So, when she laid the surprising finish on in this story, I wasn’t quite as shocked as I might have been if I didn’t already know how Millar tended to write.

I enjoyed AN AIR THAT KILLS—the writing is superb, the dialogue crackles, the plot intrigues. What bothered me was the premise—in the end, I just found the whole setup a teeny bit hard to swallow. Without spoiling anything for others who wish to read it, I’d love to know if anyone else who knows the story felt a similar sense of anti-climactic disbelief in the ending. All comments are welcome.

[Ant Koplowitz · Rating 4 out of 5]

"A Canadian businessman, living near Toronto, disappears on the eve of a fishing trip with friends. Is he dead? Has he been the lover of his best friend's wife? Soon these questions appear to be answered..." So runs the back cover description of the Soft Talkers by Margaret Millar - another hidden gem; an intelligent and psychologically complex novel of betrayal, deceit and death. Published in 1957 it explores some fairly risqué themes for its time, among them adultery, unplanned pregnancy and extramarital relationships.

Once again I found the plot absorbing and multi-layered, with a narrative that for 90 per cent of the book appears to be about one thing, but turns out to be about something else entirely. You have to admire Millar's assured plotting and the masterly way in which she brings the various elements together into a genuinely surprising denouement. She had a great ear for convincing and realistic dialogue, so expressive and believable.

The book could be described as somewhat slow, but it's actually anything but slow, as all the while the tension is being built and the smokescreen of normality makes you look in entirely the wrong direction in attempting to work out who did what (if anything!) and to whom.

This was a hard book to track down...nearly all of her work is out of print, but searching for a novel by Margaret Millar always repays the effort upon reading.

© Koplowitz 2013

[E.G. · Rating 2 out of 5]

I find this book an interesting read but also am disappointed in its weaknesses. I think I read it all the way to the end simply to figure out why I stuck with it so long.

First, I will say that her use of character detail is part of that reason. For example: 'Thelma could, in fact, superimpose one feeling on another feeling, like bricks, and it was always the latest, the top one, that was valid.' There are what I think of as 'bald spots' through the book where this level of detail is not present, usually in places where the text is exposition rather than action. Also, one of the recurring motifs is that of cold or winter, and that is sometimes clumsily applied.

Although this book does not follow the crime novel or mystery novel structure -- there is no detective, no formal investigation, only a sort-of interested narrator -- the author does utilize some of the tools of the trade. Misdirection via information that can be taken several different ways, characters who are not what they seem, events that are not clearly explained but revealed through dialogue. It gives the reader a sense that something's not right, but you can't quite get your brain around it.

I found that the pacing of the book started off well, then nosedived through the middle until the last few chapters. Without revealing the end, I will say that I was impressed with the last chapter and then disappointed.

[Lawrence FitzGerald · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is Wives and Lovers Mark II.

Margaret Millar was a keen observer of humankind, readily apparent in everything she wrote. Her mastery of character, of motivations and actions, was so strong, so complete that you wondered why she bothered to write murder mysteries. She left murder behind in Wives and Lovers. And with it, it seemed, any sufficiency of dynamic tension. Everyday life even with it's petty cruelties and all to frequent betrayals is just that, everyday life.

An Air that Kills seems to follow in the footsteps of Wives and Lovers but with a much stronger undercurrent of mystery, a twist and a satisfying resolution. It seemed so much like everyday life, but was not.

"There are thirty-two plots, but only one story. Nothing is as it seems." - Jim Thompson

[Beth · Rating 2 out of 5]

Another Millar somewhat better than the last though still relying heavily on The-Woman-Who-Wants-A-Baby who is married to The-Man-Who-Is-Sterile. Also it's mega irritating to be in a character's head and find out later that very character was feeding you false information. It might be quite amusing in a different genre, but I don't think Millar was genre-crossing. Finally, I have no idea what the title had to do with the book.

[Francis · Rating 4 out of 5]

The writing is subtle, the story is subtle, and while the characters are not very sympathetic, still, you are drawn in. Something is not right and you know a twist is coming but the pages are running out and then suddenly the twist and then just as suddenly the end. Then you mutter "Wow, I didn't see that one coming.", and you go to bed.

A fine book ..a great ending.

[Beesley · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was pulp fiction at its finest and classiest. Margaret Millar's eye for telling details elevates a fairly pulpy story of one or more characters putting one over on their friends, acquaintances, and enemies into something in a class by itself. Recommended for anyone who enjoys suspense tales or who is in the mood for an entertaining read with a lot of twists and turns.

[Carol Jean · Rating 3 out of 5]

There are some odd lapses in the plot of this book, and the author seems to have forgotten that kids get older in 12 years...unless I read that passage wrong. Millar wrote in the 50s, and the books certainly have that fusty smell.

[Maureen · Rating 3 out of 5]

J enjoyed this, and will seek out more of Ms Millar's 1950s crime novels.

[Carla]

A tight, gripping mystery, with an ending that is hard, but not impossible, to guess. Millar has a gift for character, and it serves her well here. The men in particular are stand- outs.

[Pamela · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a solid 3.5 star read as is any Millar book. Since I’ve been giving her work 3 starts here lately, this is a rounding up half star.

[Andrea M · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sehr gutes, noch immer lesenswertes Buch mit überraschendem Ende.
Wenn es Handys und weniger Briefe in dem Buch gäbe, würde man ihm das Alter nicht anmerken.

[Michael · Rating 4 out of 5]

Intriguing! Another from the Millar Anthology. This seeming to sit between the other two. It is a Crime novel, sort of, but with the same social issues as ‘Wives & lovers’. As ever, the prose and set up reflect a troubled sort of Upper Middle Class existence in the 1950s. Perhaps it should be contrasted with the not unrelated problems besetting characters in Iris Murdoch’s novels from the same period?
As always the plot is not my concern here. Read the blurb.
This seems to be like an onion as gradually the skins are revealed to reveal the rotten core of the characters, and their motivations. The lies pile up right to the end.
I find that having now read four of Millar’s books that the style depends on the basic inability to tell the truth in an unrestricted way. (Do any of us do this? We lie mostly to ourselves!)
The characters are to some extent reused, the lawyer from ‘Vanish In An Instant’, becomes the University Don here, but again acts as the moral compass & bastion of honesty.
A major question that affects the whole of the second half: Why was there no post mortem? Other than this would fundamentally change the second half!
I don’t know anything of Canadian divorce law in the 1950s which seems to be quite Victorian and repressive. The use of Nevada as a bastion of freedom also seems quite odd, but the notion of Vegas and the sunshine would be very appealing. (To me at least, I have never exactly desired to spend a Canadian winter.)
Much of the novel is given over to the reactions of a small circle of friends & wives to a tragic event. Lots of details about the first few hours and days, gradually panning out to reveal a nasty picture of deceptions, mostly of the characters themselves. No one being as saintly as they wish to appear.
Very satisfying as a read, not quite a thriller, but as a dissection of a certain strata.
I really like the ending, as it shows that future is always in the well-being of children.

[Christine · Rating 3 out of 5]

Definitely worth a read, but maybe not the author's finest based on other reviews and what I've heard about her other books.

"An Air That Kills" takes place in the suburbs of Toronto, with nice little middle- to upper-middle class families living in houses with picket fences and wives kissing their husbands goodbye in their finest before the breadwinner heads out to work every day. Specifically, it focuses on a group of four men, all friends, who take a weekend trip up to Ron Galloway's vacation home.

But Ron never shows up, and everything unravels.

Honestly, I really enjoyed the book. Millar has a nice eye for drama with a touch of sincere vulnerability, and her dialogue feels both intense and natural at once. As for the mystery, well, the book is trying a very different approach with that part of the plot. Ron is missing for most of it, and no one seems particularly focused on finding him. We never see the police, only vaguely hear about them, so I wouldn't call this a crime novel (or even a mystery novel). If anything, it's more like "social drama on a small scale and also there's a missing persons case that is quickly solved at the end in the weirdest way possible, the end."

Recommended if you're curious to see Millar's character writing (very much worth the read), and I'm excited to try something else of hers with (hopefully) a slightly more logical plot & resolution.