Customer Reviews

Prince Of Lost Places

5 star:		(12)
4 star:		(17)
3 star:		(6)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

I have been a fan of Kathy Hepinstall ever since I read her first novel. Each of her stories is compelling, gripping, and definitely unique. She's a truly excellent writer and storyteller, and I expect her to remain one of my top favorites authors of all time.

Hepinstall's latest offering, Prince of Lost Places, was different for me. I really enjoyed the story and was sad that it didn't go on for at least 100 more pages. However, if I compare it to her other two novels, I would have to put this one last. It wasn't as suspenseful and page-turning as I was expecting.

Prince of Lost Places tells the story of a mother, the love she has for her son, and her determination to keep him safe in a dangerous world. There has been a killing in 6-year-old Duncan's school, and the little neighbor girl, Linda, is dead. Duncan's mother, Martha, is beside herself with worry -- so much so that she is constantly checking on him in the middle of the night. For fear that she is no longer able to keep Duncan safe, Martha steals away with him in the middle of the night to a cave on the Rio Grande where they will live, hidden, from the dangers of the world. However, their safety is soon threatened by an intruder -- the private detective who's been hired to find them.

The ending of this story came from absolutely nowhere and knocked me flat! It was truly the best part of the book, and it makes me want to read the story over again knowing what I know now. I recommend this book to all Hepinstall fans because I believe you will be pleased. However, for new fans, I believe The Absence of Nectar is a better display of Kathy Hepinstall's exceptional storytelling talent.

A beautifully written tale of a mothers wish to protect her child, at all cost, and her unconditional love that surpasses reality to find comfort in an illusion.
Unpredictable, mind-blowing conclusion.

In each of her three fine novels, Kathy Hepinstall shows readers that she's not only a talented writer - eloquent, imaginative and entertaining - but that she has a rare ability to find within each story an element of magic, something at the core of a character or a situation that transcends (and at the same time illuminates) the frail reality through which we, and her characters, pass. The characters themselves are always entirely believable, immediately acceptable to the reader, sounding a resonating chord of empathy almost from the moment they are introduced. The stories/situations in which her characters find themselves are equally grounded - even as they venture near the fantastic from time to time, there is nothing in them that is beyond belief. From time to time, I read a novel or story that stretches things a little too far - I find myself saying, `Oh, come on now...' I have never felt that way reading any of Kathy's books - they always draw me in rapidly, allowing me to feel myself pulled along by the characters and plots. Each one has made me more and more glad that THE HOUSE OF GENTLE MEN caught my eye that day in the bookstore.

There is an element of madness within PRINCE OF LOST PLACES - it's a definite presence, but we're not sure for most of the book where to place it. It's a bit like a firefly that won't settle anywhere - when it finally lands (and Kathy plays the suspense element of this novel masterfully) it does so delicately, touching without tainting, without judging, without condemning or vilifying. We're left with the questions `Who is really mad', `What is reality' and `What would YOU have done?' echoing in our heads.

Without going into the plot itself (it's been done in plenty of other places), I'll simply point out that the emotions experienced by the characters are deep and real - and they're emotions with which each and every reader should be able to empathize. The book is a brief one - and I have to agree with another reviewer below that the pace with which the story is told (as well as the multiple viewpoints) adds to the presence of `dysreality' (I love making up words...) within. I put off reading this wonderful novel for too long - now that I've experienced it, I'm sorry I didn't pick it up as soon as it came out. This one shouldn't be missed!

Martha is a young, sophisticated mother who runs away with her 6-year-old son, Duncan, after the death of a neighborhood child. She leaves her husband, David, whom she loves, to make a safer life for Duncan in a wilderness cave on the Rio Grande. An unlikely premise, you say? I thought so, too, but by the time David's detective catches up with her, I assure you that the story had not only grown on me but held me in complete thrall. The writing is beautiful and haunting, and the ending literally shocked me speechless. Which is, after all, a hallmark of great writing.

This story really takes you by suprise...It is easy to empathize with the main character who runs away to a soutwestern cave to protect her child. Her mental state is definitely in question, but the simple tale of day to day survival makes it very easy for the reader to imagine themselves doing the same thing in her situation.

When you finally notice that you have so few pages left to read before the end, you wonder how it could ever be resolved in a satisfying way...then the author hits you with an powerful ending that makes you gasp--and at the same time beliveing it couldn't have ended any other way.

This is my first Hepinstall book, but won't be my last.

Martha, an Ohio wife and mother, flees to a cave along the Rio Grande when violence disrupts her peaceful home. Her husband sends a detective on her trail, and love blossoms. This quirky little tale is fine for readers who enjoy their suspense flavored with plot twists and psychological overtones. The pace is leisurely. Tension builds slowly. The climax of the novel is sudden and leaves the readers putting their own spin on the story. Knowing the difference between reality and illusion plays a major part. Think of a romantic Twilight Zone episode and you get the idea. Kathy Hepinstall enjoys a credible reputation as a rising author of suspense novels. This is good lite reading. ;-)

There is no subtlety in this clearly written, fast-paced tale, which seems to lack any relationship to what is feasible even by a mentally disturbed mother. My realistic soul simply could not accept that even one in the central character's mental condition could do and effectuate what she is related to have done and accomplished. Possibly one should suspend one's view of reality when reading another's fictional creation, but I never was one much for fantasy and anyway this does not, at least overtly, purport to be fantasy. Nor could I applaud the ending. But I am not one to judge a book of this genre. I kept wondering whether this is supposed to be a Harlequin-type book (I've never read such so...), or "young adult"? But I guess it is classified as a psychological thriller, but evidence of psychological veracity if present was not noticed by me. But I am no psychologist. I felt reading this book was not a valuable use of my time.

I read this story in one day, which is a rarity for me. The Prince of Lost Places begins with the detective, who is hired by David Wells to find his wife Martha, who abducted their son. From there, the story shifts to Martha, who burns her station wagon on the side of the road in a desparate attempt to elude capture. She is terrified because David wants to put her in a mental hospital.

It was obvious to me that she was suffering from extreme paranoia. The world was a bad place and she had to protect her 6 year-old son, Duncan from it. So, she takes him to an isolated cave in the desert of Texas with the hope that David will never find her. He doesn't understand how bad the world is and how it could hurt Duncan. In her mind, David is crazy and she is sane.

She hopes that Duncan will forget about Linda, the little girl next door, who died tragically during school. Martha had an inherent dislike for Linda for the way she treated Duncan. The little girl had bossed her son around before she stole his toy soldiers. When the detective (who calls himself Andrew) finds their hideout, she is wary and suspicious. Andrew manipulates her with his affection towards Duncan and his promise that he will protect them from David.

They continue to hide out in the cave. Martha still has nightmares about Linda's death and gives Andrew the details about the bombing which took the little girl's life. Andrew, in turn, tells her his story about his wife leaving him because his love wasn't enough for her. Soon after that, romantic feelings and ideals of a "better and peaceful" life spring up.

Then David arrives on the scene, bringing with him the horrible truth about about the bombing. David had come with the intent to help his wife and save their marriage. The exchange between the couple broke my heart. I felt a deep compassion for both of them.

The Prince of Lost Places is not about alcoholism. It is about grief and what it can do to the mind. Ms. Hepinstall did an excellent job of portraying someone with a mental illness and how some people can take advantage of them to suit their own selfish purposes. I enjoyed reading this book because it made me react. It's been a while since a story had that effect on me. Highly recommended.

After an act of terrorism at her son's school kills one child and wounds nine others, Martha Warden packs her son, Duncan--plus an eclectic assortment of household goods, camping gear, and John Denver CDs--in her station wagon and flees her Ohio home for a secluded cave in Big Bend National Park. But this latter-day act of violence (committed by a school janitor with a bomb and an undisclosed grudge) has done more than destroy Martha's sense of confidence in the civilized world; it's caused both Martha and her husband, David, to question each other's sanity, a question that will hang in the balance for nearly two hundred pages and must ultimately be answered by a private detective with a drinking problem and a wounded past of his own.

Such is the opening premise of Prince of Lost Places, the third novel by Austin writer Kathy Hepinstall. It's a premise that probably rings less absurdly now than it might have before the harsh age of Columbine and 9/11, and Hepinstall no doubt seeks to evoke the same feelings of unease and nervous suspicion that defined the collective mood following both those harrowing events: Martha could be any parent shaken by the constant reports of school shootings throughout the country, and she could also be any American coping with the widespread sense of anxiety (and anger) brought on by September 11th. These things are never mentioned in the novel, of course, but they do provide a convenient context that should allow most readers to sympathize with Martha as she tells her story in a voice that, for several reasons, might otherwise be found unconvincing.

Martha's distraught husband hires Will Travis, a P.I. who seems to have a special knack for tracking down fugitives and assuming whatever guise is necessary to capture them. Travis is also an alcoholic and was, coincidentally, abandoned by his own wife, but these facts are never developed as fully as they ought to have been. The narrative occasionally breaks away from Martha's first-person perspective to follow Will in the more distant third-person, yet throughout the novel Will remains a largely blank presence. He catches up with Martha at her hideout on the Rio Grande and assumes a false identity (using the name of her dead father, Andrew) to win her trust. A predictable relationship develops between the two, but it's not as important as the already established relationships Martha has with her son and husband; these are the real psychological basis of the novel, particularly as neither Will, David, nor Duncan turns out to be what Martha thinks they are. When David arrives for a final confrontation, Martha must answer several hard questions for herself, questions which she's come to the edge of Texas to avoid, such as how does point of view shape our understanding of tragedy, and how far should one person go in order to feel safe in an inherently dangerous world?

Odessa-born Hepinstall has penned two previous psychological dramas, The House of Gentle Men and The Absence of Nectar. The latter novel was a particularly effective suspense yarn in the tradition of Hitchcock, and through its memorable characters and witty language revealed Hepinstall to be a writer of great promise. Here all of the characters, Martha included, aren't half as memorable as the scenery (described with jarring accuracy for a woman who's never been to the desert), and astute readers will likely spot the surprise twist coming a canyon or two away. Still, if Prince of Lost Places isn't everything it should be, it's a quick read and, like the desert, it does yield some small rewards: most notably the interplay between Martha and her son, Duncan, the "prince" of the book's title. And readers who feel slightly cheated when they reach the last page should go back and re-read the opening note, which could have been penned either by Martha or the school janitor; its avowal that "If I could, I would have taken every child with me" will have added meaning once Martha's story has ended.

What a disturbing and haunting novel. The mother flees with her son after there's a killing at his school. She and the son are surviving in a cave when the husband's detective (who doesn't identify himself) finds her. The language is deep and dark to fit the plot which has an O. Henry ending that will surprise any reader. But, aren't the survivors of any tragedy also the victims whether their loved ones live or not! Astonishing!