Book Review: The Note by Alafair Burke
There’s something irresistibly enticing about a book that promises secrets, the complexities of friendship, and a twist of suspense. When I picked up The Note by Alafair Burke, I was intrigued by the premise of three women, each with a tangled web of secrets, thrown into chaos by a missing persons investigation. As a fan of psychological drama, I was eager to dive into this narrative and explore the darker corners of their lives. Unfortunately, what I hoped would be a thrilling ride became a bit of a bumpy road.
The story revolves around May, Lauren, and Kelsey, friends reuniting for a seemingly carefree holiday in the Hamptons, only to find themselves embroiled in a murder investigation stemming from a drunken prank. Right from the outset, Burke sets the stage for an examination of notoriety and the psychological aftershocks that accompany it. The excerpt captures this beautifully, spotlighting the intense scrutiny Kelsey faces compared to her counterparts—her husband’s murder accusation casting a long shadow over their lives. It’s a heavy theme, one that taps into the modern fascination with media scrutiny and societal judgment.
However, while the premise held immense potential, I found the execution left much to be desired. The writing, while competent, felt dry and somewhat lacking in vibrancy. I often felt as though I was told rather than shown—something crucial in a suspense novel. I craved the visceral thrill that suspense offers, but instead, I encountered a narrative bogged down by excess dialogue and repetition, diluting the impact of its twists and turning points.
Characterization is another aspect that fell flat for me. May, Lauren, and Kelsey each have their flaws, but they often felt more tedious than relatable. May’s controlling nature and Lauren’s questionable relationship choices left me longing for at least one character to rally behind. The trio’s frequent manipulation of one another and their ominous secrets created tension, yet I yearned for deeper sympathy—something that might have anchored my investment in their fates.
There were moments, occasionally, where the dialogue sparked with authenticity, particularly as the characters navigated their fractured friendships amidst escalating chaos. Yet, I found they were often overshadowed by the barrage of social issues—the #MeToo movement, race relations, the pandemic—added in a way that felt more like checklist inclusions than organic narrative elements.
Burke’s experience as a law professor and legal commentator undeniably informs her writing, lending a certain credibility to the legal aspects of the plot. Still, the balance between engaging storytelling and social commentary felt off-kilter for me. In her author’s note, Burke shares her inspirations and the journey of crafting this book, which provided a glimmer of connection, though it couldn’t quite redeem my overall experience.
For readers captivated by tales of friendship and the psychological drama that unfolds under pressure, The Note may still hold some appeal. If you appreciate intricate plots and can overlook some of the flaws, it might be worth your time. However, I struggled to connect deeply with this narrative, leaving me considering it might be time to seek narratives from different authors whose storytelling style resonates more with my personal taste.
Overall, while The Note attempts to weave a compelling story, it ultimately didn’t capture my attention as I had hoped. It’s a poignant reminder that not every book is destined to resonate, even when the setup is so promising. So, if you’re a fan of Burke or enjoy stories wrapped in intrigue and notoriety, perhaps give this one a try. It just might find a home on your shelf that it couldn’t quite find on mine.