We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver
We need to talk about Kevin.
Right now.
This novel consumed me. In a way, my daily world revolved around that hour or so per night I could get back to the story. Some nights the Disturbing factor was off the charts and I felt uneasy; most nights I just left the book in rapt admiration at how each chapter ending left me dying to know how it would reach its inevitable violent climax.
I didn’t even care about the secondary questions, like “Why does she stay in this marriage!?” and “Isn’t Franklin drawn as just a little TOO much of a jerk? Why does she love him again?” The mother-son relationship mattered too much to care about the realism or frustration in the other relationships.
LOVED the conclusion. No spoilers.