Amalia Gkavea
The Spiral Staircase began with all the right ingredients—an isolated manor, an air of creeping menace, and a sympathetic heroine in Helen. The early imagery was compelling, and the sense of a house gradually emptying was deliciously eerie. Unfortunately, the tension fizzled out midway, giving way to tiresome dialogue and domestic entanglements that diluted the suspense. By page 220, I found myself skipping ahead, unable to remain invested. While there’s merit in the premise and atmosphere, the narrative’s sluggish turn made it difficult to finish with enthusiasm.
Many thanks to Pushkin Vertigo and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
The Spiral Staircase began with all the right ingredients—an isolated manor, an air of creeping menace, and a sympathetic heroine in Helen. The early imagery was compelling, and the sense of a house gradually emptying was deliciously eerie. Unfortunately, the tension fizzled out midway, giving way to tiresome dialogue and domestic entanglements that diluted the suspense. By page 220, I found myself skipping ahead, unable to remain invested. While there’s merit in the premise and atmosphere, the narrative’s sluggish turn made it difficult to finish with enthusiasm.
Many thanks to Pushkin Vertigo and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.