In some ways, it reminded me a little of some of Georges Simenon’s work – his hard/psychological romains durs as opposed to his Maigret books. There is an underlying seam of bleakness here, a real sense of destruction and despair as the story edges closer to its denouement. Highsmith’s interest in decency and morality comes to the fore again The Cry of the Owl (published a few years later in 1962), a book that seems to start off in traditional psychological thriller territory only to shift towards something a little more existential by the end. It remains one of the highlights of my 2017 year in reading.
Last year I read and loved Deep Water (1957), a novel which plays with readers’ responses towards an outwardly respectable man who secretly harbours psychopathic tendencies. Regular readers may be aware of my fondness for Patricia Highsmith’s particular brand of domestic noir.
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