My latest read is The Collector, by the late John Fowles, which was his first successful book, back in 1963. It is a dark tale about a young male sociopath who makes a shift from collecting butterflies to collecting a young woman he's been admiring and stalking obsessively.

Frederick Clegg was living a miserable life as a strange loner of a clerk until he won a lottery. After that, he led an even stranger existence, for what he decided to do with all this money was to buy a very secluded house where he set about making all the necessary alterations he would need to keep a "house guest" a secret. In other words, he built a fortified prison in his basement. Then, Frederick bought a van, came up with a plan that included stalking, baiting, chloroform, and bondage. This time, though, instead of successfully netting a rare species of butterfly, he abducted Miranda Grey, a local art student.

The first part of the story is told in first person by Frederick, but then the narrative is given to Miranda, so the reader gets two very different points of view about what is happening. Miranda's story is of course very sad, but also very brave; she tries very hard to reason with her captor, wracks her brains trying to think of ways of escaping, and keeps a diary of her recent past and her future aspirations. It's all the idealism and hope of a very young woman desperately trying to survive. Miranda is a strong character.

John Fowles paints a fascinating portrait of two diametically different people, both doomed in such different ways. This novel is what I would call "a heartbreaking work of staggering genius." My compliments go to Dave Eggers for that moniker! It's a depressing work, but in my humble opinion, you must read this.