During a rare period of downtime, I decided to borrow The Blue Hour by Paula Hawkins (published 2024) from my local library. A New York Times bestseller, I was first drawn in by its striking cover, then by the promise of a psychological thriller in its synopsis. Within the first few pages, I was hooked.
It has also been a long while since I last wrote a book review. The previous one was published in a local publication and centred on my favourite genre, mythology, specifically Madeline Miller’s Circe. Returning to a psychological thriller felt refreshing.
The Opening
The book is undeniably well-written. Hawkins delivers a phenomenal opening: richly descriptive scenes set on a remote Scottish island with a capricious tidal entrance, layered characters with compelling backstories, and a plot that feels dense with intrigue.
I was instantly transported to the island of Eris, immersed in the history of Vanessa Chapman, the woman whose legacy anchors the story, before being introduced to James Becker, the protagonist. And I found myself rooting for him almost immediately.
Plot
James Becker, an art curator from an unremarkable background who works for Fairburn Foundation, is an ardent admirer of the late impressionist artist Vanessa Chapman. Her life is steeped in mystery, and her art, it seems, conceals secrets of its own.
The story begins with the discovery of a human bone in one of Vanessa’s sculptures, raising suspicions surrounding her husband Julian’s disappearance years earlier. Alongside this macabre revelation, a legal battle unfolds between the Fairburn Foundation, the beneficiary of Vanessa’s life works, and her long-time friend, Dr Grace Haswell.
This sets Becker on a journey to Eris, Vanessa’s former home: a remote island now fiercely guarded by Grace herself. As themes of love, obsession, and betrayal surface, Becker uncovers far more than he bargained for, stepping into blurred boundaries between art, devotion, and death.
Thoughts (Spoilers Ahead)
The first half of The Blue Hour kept me thoroughly intrigued. True to its genre, it presents an intricate psychological portrait of love and fixation. While the pacing is slow, marked by long dialogues and introspective monologues, I was enthralled by how meticulously Hawkins constructed this world.
The narrative oscillates between past and present: Vanessa’s old diaries and Grace’s recollections reveal fragments of history, while Becker’s present-day interactions with Grace anchor us in the now. Alongside his curatorial work, we glimpse Becker’s personal life, particularly his relationship with the beautiful Helena Fitzgerald, his boss’s former fiancée and now his wife, set against the tensions within the Fairburn Foundation.
However, towards the end, I found myself increasingly let down.
The suspense that Hawkins had so carefully built began to fizzle out, and the final reveal felt neither beautiful nor satisfying. Too many questions were left unanswered, while too much narrative weight shifted towards Grace Haswell, who ultimately became the story’s pivot. Her motives, especially behind the multiple deaths, felt underdeveloped.
I wanted more depth for James Becker as a protagonist, and more exploration of Sebastian Lennox, the heir to the Fairburn Foundation, whose storyline was barely touched upon. The fleeting appearances of Lady Emmeline, Sebastian’s mother, the complicated history between Sebastian’s father, Douglas Lennox and Vanessa Chapman, and the passing mention of Vanessa’s friend Frances all felt like missed opportunities. Aside from Grace, the supporting characters drifted in and out like passing wind.
The ending itself was abrupt. The narration grew unreliable. What, exactly, was the truth? Perhaps this ambiguity is part of Hawkins’ intent, but it left the plot feeling like a hazy, unresolved mess. Grace’s obsession with Vanessa, while understandable, ultimately felt weak. The trope of the sidelined, resentful, and unattractive companion emerging as the motive felt tired and repetitive.
There were also numerous subplots that seemed unnecessary, looping endlessly without strengthening the main story. I wished more focus had been given to Becker and Helena’s relationship instead of centring so heavily on Grace’s fixation. Granted, this is not a romance novel, but emotional grounding was sorely needed.
Ironically, despite Julian’s infidelities, it was Grace whose ‘unconditional’ love doomed Vanessa in the end. And it was James, whose admiration for Vanessa seemed to supersede his love for his pregnant wife, who sealed his own fate.
What a twisted obsession and poignant love!
Ending and Verdict
The ending was lacklustre, void of the tension that made the opening chapters so compelling. It felt like a rushed attempt to conclude the story without unravelling its knots. The open ending invites readers to draw their own conclusions, but while reading, I genuinely wondered if my copy had ended prematurely.
Personally, I would have preferred Becker to survive. I wanted the blue lights to signify a police car or an ambulance arriving in time. Letting a serial murderer walk free felt unsatisfying, and a proper reckoning would have brought closure to Vanessa and Julian’s story. That said, the final twist was effective, and Becker’s final thoughts carried a quiet, poetic weight.
Ultimately, The Blue Hour is a novel with a gripping beginning and a disappointing ending. What could have been its saving grace fell flat, and even that, I was denied.
What do you think? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
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