Book Review by Robert Wiersema by Stephanie Wrobel It could be argued that, over the course of the 20th century, the mystery and thriller genres largely revolved around the works of writer Agatha Christie and filmmaker Alfred Hitchcock. They set the trends and created the tropes which shaped the genres. Christie’s work has been experiencing something of a renaissance over the past few years, with such works as Knives Out and Glass Onion, Nina de Gramont’s The Christie Affair, Peter Swanson’s Nine Lives, Ruth Ware’s One by One and dozens of others picking up the Queen of Crime’s baton and running with it for a new generation. Hitchcock’s influence, however, has seemed to wane somewhat. Perhaps it has to do with the singularity of his vision or his personal psychological complexities, but we haven’t really seen much of a Hitchcockian revival. Until now. Enter Chicago writer Stephanie Wrobel. Following her highly successful debut Darling Rose Gold (an international bestseller which has been published in more than 20 countries and which was shortlisted for most of the major prizes) and her second book This Might Hurt, Wrobel turned her attention to Hitchcock. Literally. When I interviewed her at the Vancouver Writers Festival in October, Wrobel mentioned the seeming neglect of Hitchcock’s influence in contemporary suspense writing. In response, she had immersed herself in the auteur’s work (as if someone needs a reason to embark on a Hitchcock film festival), with an eye to creating something in the tradition of the master, but wholly new. The result is The Hitchcock Hotel, an homage and a tribute to the filmmaker, and a thrilling read in its own right. In the novel, Wrobel acknowledges Hitchcock’s role deliberately and unabashedly, from the very beginning. Alfred Smettle is a huge Hitchcock fan. No, not just a fan – he’s a devotee, a collector of memorabilia from the films and a scholar of the work. He’s also a hotelier, with the titular The Hitchcock Hotel – a revamped Victorian house stuffed with Alfred’s collection on a hill overlooking the small New England town where he went to college – about to celebrate the anniversary of its opening. To mark the occasion, Alfred invites his core group of college friends to spend a private, all-expenses-paid weekend at the hotel. What seems like a fond gesture, though, is quickly revealed to be something else; something…darker. Why hasn’t Alfred spoken to his friends for 16 years, since he had to leave college early? What happened 16 years ago? Why has he immersed himself in their online lives, noting their children’s names, their preferred drinks, their professions in advance of the weekend? What do he and his mysterious housekeeper have in mind for this formerly close-knit crew? The weekend builds to an almost unbearable level of tension as old scores are dragged The Hitchcock Hotel into the light and old relationships are put to the test. And then a body is found, murdered in the night. It gives me shivers just thinking about it. The Hitchcock Hotel does everything that Wrobel set out to do; she’s created a powerful Hitchcockian thriller with a uniquely Wrobelian flair, a novel of secrets and lies, and the haunting nature of the past which will take you in directions that you didn’t see coming. It’s a treat, and one of my favourite recent reading experiences. CSANews | WINTER 2024 | 39
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