Uncompelling, overlong and far-fetched thriller with an oddly unempathetic cast & some ridiculous gratuitous violence.
Despite Marc Raabe’s two previous thrillers, Cut and The Shock, garnering decidedly mixed reviews I nevertheless had high expectations from what is a decent, if not original, premise of the past rearing its ugly head in the life of the central character. Sadly, however, Homesick is not the “fast-paced and addictive thriller” that the blurb promises and instead I found it barely competent with a disjointed style of writing and leaps of logic making for a story that has the potential to confuse and tends to incoherence. Together with overextended moments of melodrama in a plot where the identity of the bad guy becomes blatantly obvious with a quarter of the book remaining, the inexplicable and unsympathetic behaviour of the characters confounded me. Whilst I do not always warm to characters in thrillers I at least hope to understand their actions and for me, the behaviour of protagonist, Jesse Berg, was rather primal with frequent recourse to gratuitous violence and a tendency to see women as sex objects.
Homesick got off to a rather confusing start for me with several strands of the story never quite merging into a cohesive whole quite simply because far too many elements were introduced all at once. Protagonist and forty-five-year-old doctor, Jesse Berg, wakes up from a recurring nightmare in his flat in Berlin with his eight-year-old daughter Isabelle (Isa) staying overnight for the first time. From there Marc Raabe gives a rapid fire introduction of Jesse’s past with the accident at the age of thirteen that left him with focal retrograde amnesia and no memory of the past that came before, through to his time at the Adlershof Children’s Home and marriage and divorce from fellow resident, Sandra. Simultaneously a separate narrative presents the story of seventy-four-year-old Artur Messner, a thoroughly miserable old man at the mercy of rheumatism and the former principal of the aforementioned children’s home. In no short order Jesse’s ex-wife is murdered, Isa is abducted and the chilling message, ‘You Don’t Deserve Her’, daubed in red above her empty bed. Clearly a reference to something in his past this signals Jesse making a desperate journey to the scene of his worst nightmare and the start of a dual narrative from when he was a thirteen-year-old boy with a traumatic past living alongside a clique of frenemies at Adlershof in 1979-81. All in all this opening felt rather chaotic and does not lend itself to fluent, free-flowing reading however from this point onwards the story follows the more familiar time-slip formula with action in the present cutting back to the events of a teenage Jesse and the terrible accident that defined his life, left him feeling “incomplete” and eternally searching for the missing component in his world for everything to make sense.
Disappointingly the past 1981 narrative is padded to excess with boyhood stories that failed to capture my interest and a cast of bullies, from students to the staff at the home alike and with the conflicting behaviour of Jesse making it difficult to engage with his thought processes and emotions. Likewise the clique of boys who live alongside Jesse is Adlershof are never fully realised despite their integral part in the storyline. Punctuated by bouts of stupidly unwarranted violence and an out of place crassness when referring to the female sex, particularly Sandra, lowers the tone of the whole novel. Whilst the premise had clear potential the reality never quite built up to a head of steam with the plodding 1981 strand sapping the momentum of the whole story. The present day narrative features Sandra’s good friend, Jule, accompanying Jesse back to uncover what really took place before and after the accident that was instrumental in inspiring the twisted revenge mission that he finds himself caught up in. The dynamic between Jesse and Jule, who is suspicious, mistrustful and slightly wary of her friend’s ex-husband whom she has heard little positive about, adds an certain spark to the present day narrative and makes for more entertaining and lively reading in comparison to the turgid 1981 recounting.
My resounding issue with Homesick is the character of Jesse whom I found unpredictable and volatile with a willingness to turn to violence in the blink of an eye. In short he seemed anathema to the idea of a typical benevolent doctor and ludicrously unsuited to Doctors Without Borders crisis work where the pressure is on and tensions are running high. His cold behaviour, abruptness and general demeanour made it impossible to really care or become invested in his fate with author, Marc Raabe, never making the drivers behind his actions obvious. I can easily see why many of the other characters in the story thought he was a psychopath as he certainly has traits of such behaviour and whilst the final revelation may yet bode well for his future there was limited evidence of any genuine character development between 1981 and 2013. Isa’s plight was the only aspect of Jesse’s predicament that resonated with me and albeit precocious and phenomenally advanced for an eight-year-old, her character injects a little lightness into what is a dark and pretty unrewarding slog.
All in all I found Homesick a wholly unpleasant and frequently tedious vanilla thriller with an awkward style of writing and it is the first and last book by Marc Raabe that I intend to read. I would be loathe to recommend this novel as an abysmal lack of suspense and a rushed denouement made it a most unsatisfying read for me. Perhaps something was lost in the translation and this explains the, at times, clunky phraseology and out of context remarks but everything just felt a bit off about a thriller that failed to entertain and I struggled to finish. Whilst a far-fetched story is the norm in the crime thriller genre I found the plot of Homesick utterly bizarre with a multitude of frustrations at a resolution that fails to address the realistic logistics of orchestrating such a unlikely escapade.
With thanks to Readers First who provided me with a free copy of this novel in exchange for my honest and unbiased opinion.
Homesick got off to a rather confusing start for me with several strands of the story never quite merging into a cohesive whole quite simply because far too many elements were introduced all at once. Protagonist and forty-five-year-old doctor, Jesse Berg, wakes up from a recurring nightmare in his flat in Berlin with his eight-year-old daughter Isabelle (Isa) staying overnight for the first time. From there Marc Raabe gives a rapid fire introduction of Jesse’s past with the accident at the age of thirteen that left him with focal retrograde amnesia and no memory of the past that came before, through to his time at the Adlershof Children’s Home and marriage and divorce from fellow resident, Sandra. Simultaneously a separate narrative presents the story of seventy-four-year-old Artur Messner, a thoroughly miserable old man at the mercy of rheumatism and the former principal of the aforementioned children’s home. In no short order Jesse’s ex-wife is murdered, Isa is abducted and the chilling message, ‘You Don’t Deserve Her’, daubed in red above her empty bed. Clearly a reference to something in his past this signals Jesse making a desperate journey to the scene of his worst nightmare and the start of a dual narrative from when he was a thirteen-year-old boy with a traumatic past living alongside a clique of frenemies at Adlershof in 1979-81. All in all this opening felt rather chaotic and does not lend itself to fluent, free-flowing reading however from this point onwards the story follows the more familiar time-slip formula with action in the present cutting back to the events of a teenage Jesse and the terrible accident that defined his life, left him feeling “incomplete” and eternally searching for the missing component in his world for everything to make sense.
Disappointingly the past 1981 narrative is padded to excess with boyhood stories that failed to capture my interest and a cast of bullies, from students to the staff at the home alike and with the conflicting behaviour of Jesse making it difficult to engage with his thought processes and emotions. Likewise the clique of boys who live alongside Jesse is Adlershof are never fully realised despite their integral part in the storyline. Punctuated by bouts of stupidly unwarranted violence and an out of place crassness when referring to the female sex, particularly Sandra, lowers the tone of the whole novel. Whilst the premise had clear potential the reality never quite built up to a head of steam with the plodding 1981 strand sapping the momentum of the whole story. The present day narrative features Sandra’s good friend, Jule, accompanying Jesse back to uncover what really took place before and after the accident that was instrumental in inspiring the twisted revenge mission that he finds himself caught up in. The dynamic between Jesse and Jule, who is suspicious, mistrustful and slightly wary of her friend’s ex-husband whom she has heard little positive about, adds an certain spark to the present day narrative and makes for more entertaining and lively reading in comparison to the turgid 1981 recounting.
My resounding issue with Homesick is the character of Jesse whom I found unpredictable and volatile with a willingness to turn to violence in the blink of an eye. In short he seemed anathema to the idea of a typical benevolent doctor and ludicrously unsuited to Doctors Without Borders crisis work where the pressure is on and tensions are running high. His cold behaviour, abruptness and general demeanour made it impossible to really care or become invested in his fate with author, Marc Raabe, never making the drivers behind his actions obvious. I can easily see why many of the other characters in the story thought he was a psychopath as he certainly has traits of such behaviour and whilst the final revelation may yet bode well for his future there was limited evidence of any genuine character development between 1981 and 2013. Isa’s plight was the only aspect of Jesse’s predicament that resonated with me and albeit precocious and phenomenally advanced for an eight-year-old, her character injects a little lightness into what is a dark and pretty unrewarding slog.
All in all I found Homesick a wholly unpleasant and frequently tedious vanilla thriller with an awkward style of writing and it is the first and last book by Marc Raabe that I intend to read. I would be loathe to recommend this novel as an abysmal lack of suspense and a rushed denouement made it a most unsatisfying read for me. Perhaps something was lost in the translation and this explains the, at times, clunky phraseology and out of context remarks but everything just felt a bit off about a thriller that failed to entertain and I struggled to finish. Whilst a far-fetched story is the norm in the crime thriller genre I found the plot of Homesick utterly bizarre with a multitude of frustrations at a resolution that fails to address the realistic logistics of orchestrating such a unlikely escapade.
With thanks to Readers First who provided me with a free copy of this novel in exchange for my honest and unbiased opinion.