There is nothing simple about The 7 ½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle…and that may be exactly what author Stuart Turton was going for. It is a complicated book from almost the very first sentence, becoming more complicated and confusing as it goes, and a challenging read, mainly because you are put in the headspace of the main character almost immediately, feeling his confusion and fear as if they were your own. In this story of amnesia, body-swapping, mistaken identity, and murder, these feelings both propel and hinder Turton’s efforts.
The story begins with the narrator forgetting, literally in mid-sentence, who he is. He has no recollection of his own identity, where he is, why he is there, or why he is calling out a woman’s name (or who the woman even is). Seconds later, a woman appears, running for her life; thirty more seconds, there is a gunshot. In the next minute, a compass is received from an unseen man coming up from behind with the single instruction: “East.” There are no explanations, no backstory; you arrive as your narrator arrives – in the middle of a scene, in the middle of a story, with no indication of what has come before or what will come next – and you learn as your narrator learns. The details about who he is, what is he doing at what turns out to be a party in an old manor house, why he can’t remember anything, and who he can trust, are bits of information doled out in small pieces as you go along.
Honestly, this is book unlike any I’ve ever read. As a piece of literature, the plot may be too intricate to be enjoyable, and the ending definitely felt like a bit of a letdown. But the immense technical feat of writing this novel is, in and of itself, impressive; the fact that it makes any sense whatsoever is a testament to Turton’s skill. The story feels like a combination of the immersive theater experience Sleep No More and several episodes of the TV show Black Mirror, all in book form. It is an experience – and maybe that means enjoying it for what it is, and not quibbling over the details.
