Don't You Cry

by Mary Kubica

[Linda]

This review was originally posted on (un)Conventional Bookviews
Don't You Cry is a deliciously creepy, mysterious tale, where the plot only fully unfolds at the very end of the story.



At first, I had a little bit of trouble getting into the story of Don't You Cry (and for the whole time, I had Axl Rose singing in my mind...) because it was quite slow, and one of the narrators was a little... hmm how should I say it?... dense. She was not only a bit socially awkward, she was very immature and unsure of herself. She did grow on me, though, and as the story moved forward, I came to like her and her strange ways.

Don't You Cry had two narrators, and neither of them was really the main character, and I found that to be refreshing. It is difficult to explain what happened in the story without giving the plot and the mystery away. Especially because there are two main plots, and the way they come to a peak at almost the same time made it a solid mystery, and the psychological thriller aspect of it really messed with my head! Esther disappeared from her room probably during the night between Saturday and Sunday, and her roommate didn't even know. Until later. And then, she first thought Esther was going about her day as usual. But Esther didn't come home. And there were no notes. And she didn't show up for work. And there were some really strange things in her room.

Then, in a small town off Lake Michigan, there is another narrator, a young boy who had a bright future he didn't seize. He stayed behind to take care of his father, and he had a very vivid imagination. Which made his narration very unreliable. And quite strange. And extremely compelling at the same time. So yeah, Don't You Cry was very mysterious, with narrators who didn't know the whole story - and neither did I - until the very end of the book. I enjoyed the story, and thinking back on it, I still get that eerie, weird feeling. So if you enjoy mysteries, you should pick it up!



"Traffic," I say, and she sniggers. On her ring finger is a wedding band, given to her by her late husband, Mr. Priddy. There's speculation that her incessant nagging was the cause of his death. Whether or not it's true, I can only assume.

Pops spends his dates at the tavern in town, getting loaded and talking about how my mother left him and me when I was five years old. It's supposed to be a sympathy trigger, but instead he ends up looking like a patsy. Pops ends up crying and scaring the ladies away one by one, like old cars lined in a row for target practice. He has no clue why he's still alone.

Thought if it wasn't for the homeliness of the walkup corridor, I wouldn't quite appreciate the hominess of Esther and my space. Snug and comfy, cozy and warm.