Room review
I had qualms about reading [b:Room|31685789|Room|Emma Donoghue|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1472239721l/31685789.SX50.jpg|9585076] The topic sounded unpleasant and harrowing. I feared that it would be the book equivalent of the 1997 Michael Haneke movie “Funny Games,” about the only movie I’ve ever regretted watching for reasons other than poor quality. The publishers seem to sense such possible reluctance: There’re nine pages of excerpts from positive reviews in my 2011 Back Bay Books paperback edition.
The film version of the novel, which I haven’t seen yet, was well received (it’s been nominated for Best Picture) and [a:Emma Donoghue|23613|Emma Donoghue|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1591714728p2/23613.jpg]’s prose got many good things written about it—which I’d read elsewhere—so I read it anyway. I’m glad I did.
Yes, you do feel imprisoned in the room along with the characters Jack, the five-year-old narrator, and Ma, his mother, whose real name you never learn, and feeling that way is disturbing. But Donoghue has succeeded in making Jack’s voice so convincing and consistent (garnering her a comparison to James Joyce) that I was hooked and read it for long stretches at a time. I read its 321 pages in two days flat, and I am not the kind of reader who does that, ever.
The ending is a satisfying one without being easy and treacly or using action movie devices to get there. It goes deep enough that you come to a point where you realize why the title lacks the definite article.