What’s The Appeal About?
The setup is basically this: a pair of law students have been given a stack of documents—emails, texts, voicemail transcripts, letters, and so on. They’re to read through this stack and be prepared to work out what crime(s) happened in what’s documented and who did what (and maybe why).
The correspondence focuses on a period of March-July in the lives of people in The Fairway Players or their associates. The Fairway Players are a local amateur theater group from a small community. As the group starts to plan their next play, the director makes a horrible announcement: his granddaughter, Poppy, has just been diagnosed with a rare form of brain cancer. He’s going to have to step back for a while, and Poppy’s uncle will be stepping up to direct, etc. There’s an experimental drug from the U.S. that’s her best shot at a cure, but it’s expensive and the family’s trying to crowdfund the treatment.
The Players are galvanized into action—individually and as a whole. People do charity runs, have a fundraising gala, a raffle, direct contributions, and so on—and, of course, all the proceeds from The Fairway Players’ next play will go to the Fund.
The stack of documents chronicles the messages about this fundraising appeal, the emails of support, and a lot of the behind-the-scenes work at the appeal and the play, and assorted tangential matters. There’s a lot of gossip, backstabbing, emotional manipulation, and…well, you start to get the idea that not everything is on the up-and-up with the appeal, the treatment, and some of the people involved. The more you start to piece together the picture these emails, etc. are painting, the more you’re pretty sure you’re missing something big. Maybe a few somethings. A crime has been committed, one or two may be in progress, and there may be more on the way.
The only way to find out is to see what the next email has to say.
Isabel Beck
When it comes to sheer word count, we hear more from Isabel Beck than any of the other characters. This doesn’t necessarily mean that we know more about her than some of the others—we just get more input from her about what’s going on. Or at least what she says is going on.
Issy is clearly a lonely person. Until she recruits a couple of new colleagues, she’s the newest member of The Fairway Players and isn’t really liked by most (and, in fact, the people she brings in are quickly more welcome than she is). She’s described as “mousy,” “drippy,” who “latches on to” people—and some things not as complimentary. Between her emails and what others say about her, you really start to pity Issy.
And that feeling just grows—like just about every person in the book, she does some truly lousy things. But unlike just about every person in the book, I only felt bad for her. I really hoped for a heaping dose of comeuppance to be given to everyone else but kept hoping something good would happen for Issy.
If I liked nothing else about The Appeal, Isabel Beck would be enough for me to tell you to go read this book. I’m so glad I met this character, one of the best of 2021.
The Stroke of Genius
The law students, Femi and Charlotte, communicate with each other via WhatsApp about these documents as they read—as you read, too. They get exactly the same information as the reader does when the reader does. As they write back and forth, it’s like you’re a part of the conversation with them. Instead of texting/messaging your friend(s) as you read the same novel, in this case, you’re reading along with a couple of the characters.
In mysteries, as the reader, you’re always looking back at things, seeing what happened. Even if the narration is in the present tense, it’s going through things that have already happened. Which is the case here, too. But you’re with Femi and Charlotte in the trenches—it feels very “now”—while you and those two are looking towards the future, what documents are going to be coming? As they start to put things together, you do, too (sometimes faster than them, sometimes a beat or two behind them). It’s a fun—and brilliant—layer on top of what’s already a great book that kicks it up a notch or two of cleverness.
Lingering Questions
One of the downsides/advantages (depending on your point of view) of this type of storytelling is that you don’t have an omniscient narrator—or even a first person—to tie up all the loose ends.
I have several lingering questions about some of the events of the book, many of which can’t even make a decent guess about the answer for. If Connelly, Rankin, Holten, Goldberg, or anyone else had left this much hanging—you can believe I’d be jumping up and down shouting my objections to the heavens. But I’m oddly at peace with this. I have been and am going to be spending some time chewing on my questions, make no mistake, but I’m fine with Hallett not tieing everything up in a nice bow.
I should stress that all the important questions, the ones that keep the reader turning pages for, are answered in definitive ways.
So, what did I think about The Appeal?
I ordered this book as soon as I read Noelle Holten’s post about it in July. Then listening to Hallet on The Blood Brothers Podcast just made me anticipate it more. So when I saw this on NetGalley, I had to jump—who wants to wait until January for the US release?
I am so glad that I didn’t wait.
As I read this, I kept saying to myself things like, “oh, this is clever;” “this is great;” “oohh, impressive;” and so on. And then 30-60 minutes later, I’d say the same thing again, but mean it more. And then again 30-minutes later. Right up to the final paragraphs, this kept getting better and better—and it started off great.
Now that I’ve said such grandiose things that no book can possibly live up to them, I’m not sure there’s a whole lot left to say.
The Appeal is a funny, thought-provoking, and suspenseful novel full of great, believable characters—not a whole lot of likable characters, but believable and interesting, sure—with a multi-layered plot that will keep you guessing and thinking as it pushes you to keep going; all presented in a format that you’ve seen rarely (if ever) in a mystery novel. If the execution isn’t flawless, it’s close enough that you won’t notice.
One of the best of the year. Period.
Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Atria via NetGalley in exchange for this post and my honest opinion—thanks to both for this.
This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.
