Wednesday, February 7, 2024

Book Review - Benjamin Stevenson's Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone

Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone by Benjamin Stevenson
Published by: Mariner Books
Publication Date: January 17th, 2023
Format: Kindle, 384 Pages
Rating: ★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

In a family of killers a reunion at a remote sky resort might not be the best idea. But that is exactly what is about to happen. Ernest could have warned them. Afterall he writes books on how to write murder mysteries, particularly those that adhere to the commandments laid out by Golden Age writers like Agatha Christie. But no one's been talking to him for the last three years because three years previously Ernest Cunningham broke the cardinal rule of the family, he talked to the police. His brother Michael ended up in prison for a murder Ernest saw him commit. Their mother hasn't forgiven Ernest for this. Now on the eve of Michael's release the family has gathered in a place they could well be stranded in, if the right conditions happen. Which of course they will. Because his tale is a tale of killers. Ernest's mother, his father, his step-father, his step-sister, his brother, his sister-in-law, his aunt, his wife, and yes, even Ernest himself, are all killers and when killers gather death is on the table. The first body is found the next day. Thankfully it isn't a member of the family. Yet. But that doesn't exactly rule them out. Though his step-sister, Sofia, a doctor, is quick to point out the death is odd. Very odd. As in, it has all the hallmarks of a serial killer going by the moniker of the Black Tongue. And it looks like the corpse, which they've nicknamed Green Boots, might be his latest victim. Could one of his family be not just a killer but a serial killer? And could they now be trapped up on the mountain with them? Of course is the answer that Ernest should have expected. At least Michael couldn't possibly be the killer as he was still in prison when the murder occured. But Michael was lying. He got out a day early because he's been having an affair with Ernest's soon to be ex-wife. And, actually, Ernest has to give his brother a little credit for breaking up an almost completely dead marriage from inside prison. That's if their affair didn't start earlier... Because the truth is this family isn't exactly one for the truth. They keep their cards close and only show them when they have no other options. Their secrets could literally kill them as the snow closes in and Ernest realizes that he's been focusing on the wrong thing. He's been too enamoured with playing detective. He's been in love with being the lead of one of those books he outlines for others to imitate. He should have paid better attention. He should have realized why his family has the rule about the police. He should have realized a lot of things. Hopefully it's not to late for him.

The title of this book is purposely misleading. The way the reveal is set up the title is imperative for the misdirection, for the misunderstanding that has led to the situation Ernest Cunningham has found himself in. And yet the title does a disservice to the book. When you start reading a story and are told from the very beginning that everyone is a killer you instantly have no vested interest in their survival. All these people killed someone so why should I care if they get killed? Of course Benjamin Stevenson plays with the concept of what is a killer throughout the book trying to give you a deeper understanding of the characters, but it's too little too late. I care not for all these relatives, I care not for Ernest, they can literally all die for all I care, and, well, a few of them do. I wanted to like this book more it's just that I didn't. Ernest has a unique voice, but it's not a narrative voice that flows. The writing in this book is clunky. I kept thinking of other authors who have a similar writing style, Lisa Lutz sprang quickly to mind, as did Jasper Fforde and Lemony Snicket. They all have their own unique voice and singularly original style that Benjamin Stevenson attempted to do here, but their work is polished, precise, you don't find yourself rereading a sentence five times over just to see if you drew the correct meaning from it. And that's what frustrated me so much with this book, here's someone actually bothering in this day and age to adhere to the standards of Golden Age mysteries and fair play instead of infuriating the reader with impossible reveals, unreliable narrators, or endings that just didn't make sense, and I couldn't be bothered. If I didn't have a pathological need to finish every book I start combined with this being a read for my book club, I honestly don't know if I would have finished it. There is such unrealized potential. This book is now the start of a series, which should surprise no one, nor should the fact it already has a deal with HBO. All I can hope for is that going forward, in both mediums, the characters, and minimally Ernest, should be someone we can root for. Someone we can get behind. Because writing can be polished, characters can evolve, but starting on such unsound footing makes me hesitant to continue on the journey ahead. I hear Ernest is going on a train ride. I do wonder if I'll join him. Someday.

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