As a reader, do you gravitate towards relate-able, conventional, sweet narrators and stories that follow a comforting and predictable arc, ending in the literary version of “All is well”? If so, then read no further. Christopher Bollen’s page-turning, stomach-churning, prediction-spurning Havoc is not the novel for you.
Bollen’s sole narrator is octogenarian Maggie Burkhardt, a Wisconsin expatriate in Egypt during the pandemic, and Bollen’s use of the first person pays satisfying homage to its origin as an “unreliable narrator.” The book’s synopsis gives us a strong nudge in the “be wary of this narrator” direction, but it also complicates matters by adding an 8-year-old boy, arriving at the shabby-chic hotel on the edge of the Nile in the Sahara Desert with his harried mother, who quickly morphs into an unsettling and eerie nemesis for Maggie.
The peripatetic, well-heeled guests, Ben and Zachary, an American gay couple whom Maggie has befriended and feels comfortable with, as well as Ahmed, the local hotel manager with the proverbial heart of gold, who has warmly welcomed Maggie since her arrival from a mysteriously swift departure from Switzerland, provide rich and believable layers of characterization and sub-plots that robustly deliver from start to finish. But there’s never a doubt that Maggie is the axis around which this beguilingly straightforward yet actually quite twisty plot revolves.
While busying herself with ruminations about which guests might need her special “help” in overturning their lives for the good (ahem)—something Bollen makes sure that readers know is not a newly developed habit--Maggie tries and, to her astonishment, spectacularly fails to befriend young Otto. Subsequently, she becomes convinced that the precocious and troubled 8-year-old, who has quickly inserted himself into the homey interpersonal fabric of the sprawling and laid-back hotel, is on to her. As it happens, she may be right.
Bollen skillfully lays a crumb trail for readers—though never too many crumbs at once!—to suss out and/or add puzzlement to Maggie’s history and motives. Was Maggie’s long-time marriage to Peter who predeceased her as perfect as she recounts? And what’s going on with their daughter who appears in brief, hazy recollections as both a child and an adult when “she died”? The uneasy pleasure of this novel rests in the interwoven nature of Maggie’s unreliable memory and self-talk with the disturbing and escalating aspect of her and Otto’s game of one-up-man-ship. Is Maggie right about her suspicions of this child? Is the kid, in this case, “all right” or….decidedly not? And when friendly Ahmed finally cools towards Maggie because he’s heard just one too many contradictions in her back-story, should we feel pity for someone whose sanity is unraveling or a fervent hope that she be caught out before something worse happens?
The answers to these questions may possibly differ for every reader. But the staggering conclusion, rendered with an admirable combination of nail-shredding suspense and gut-punching abruptness, seemed worthy of Poe to this reader. Kudos to Bollen on his rendition of a “tale of mystery and imagination!”
