My advice for reading this novel? Don’t rush it. This novel is a what-the-fuck-even-got-dun. What I failed to see is that Sarah Pinborough is playing an entirely new game. But I will say that the tension builds steadily, page after page.īehind Her Eyes stumped and electrified me.
There is, of course, more to the story-much more-which I won’t mention at this point. The pair have abruptly moved to London, and in their new home, David strikes up an affair with his receptionist, a single mother named Louise. David is a handsome, successful psychologist, and Adele is his lovely, troubled wife. Read our exclusive Q&A with Judge Cristina Arreolaīehind Her Eyes begins as domestic thrillers often do: at a breaking point between a husband and wife. Each and every sentence inches the story closer to its intoxicating ending. I saw then that the author had wasted absolutely nothing.
So with sleep out of the question, I flipped the novel to the front cover and began to read again this time, I savored each clue, each character, each turn of phrase. But just as I began to retreat to the safety of my dreams, I remembered: it’s not safe there either. I closed the book, clenched my eyes, and tried mightily to fall asleep. When I shut the pages of Sarah Pinborough’s novel, I experienced a peculiar sense of terror, admiration, and satisfaction. I was dead wrong about the ending of Behind Her Eyes. I read until I know for certain that my theory is correct. Still, I stay up late into the night finishing these books. I ask myself, "Can I guess the big twist before the author reveals it?" always confident that the answer is yes. Every time I read a thriller, I imagine myself in a race against the author.
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