Dr. Deadly's Book Club

Many crime fiction novels make you wonder…can you ever really know another person? Clemence Michellon’s novel Our Last Resort had Dr. Deadly reflecting on…does anyone ever really know you?

Yes, dear reader, ask yourself that question now. Do you feel there are people who really know you? And how does that happen, and what difference does it make?

Okay, now…hold those thoughts.

Back to Our Last Resort. The story centers on Frida and Gabriel; it shifts between their shared trauma growing up in a cult and their later escape, and their trip to a resort in their early 30’s to reconnect after more turbulent years. Murders in both timelines drive the plot. Gabriel is arrested for the murder of a beautiful young woman at the resort, and there were deaths that fractured the duo’s world at the cult and their fledgling life beyond it.

The novel is told from Frida’s point of view and hinges on traumatic events stated early on and then described over time, as Frida opens up more to the reader. One of the book’s many strengths is how it occupies the reader’s brain with secrets; all the characters have them, and we read on to learn what they are and how they tie to the murders. We realize we don’t fully know the characters, they don’t fully know each other, and they may not even fully know themselves.

In the end, as readers learn the truths behind the murders, the novel’s characters learn truths about themselves and each other. How? There is some detective work and deduction. But, more powerfully, there are disclosures. Multiple characters choose to reveal truths about themselves.

What’s the importance of all this knowing, of ourselves and others? In a crime fiction novel, one answer is clear: to solve or resolve the central crisis. But knowing – and revealing ourselves in order to be known – is richly fertilizing of overall plot development in novels and in real life. Consider these findings:

• feeling understood lights up reward centers in your brain

(Morelli, Torre & Eisenberger, 2014)

• feeling chronically misunderstood activates the same part of your brain as physical pain

(Lieberman & Eisenberger, 2008)

These tidbits alone hold tremendous potential for understanding characters in novels (and in real life). When a character feels unseen or misunderstood, it hurts, though the marks aren’t physical. The potential for driving behavior is vast, dear readers. Many subtle clues in crime fiction (say it with Dr. Deadly…and in real life!) can be found in behaviors that reflect that emotional pain.

Characters can feel unseen and misunderstood for many reasons: negligent partners, being passed over for deserved work rewards, unfair treatment by another person or an institution, and the list goes on. Minor pains are part of life and usually heal well enough, with just a little time and care. Major injuries can cause more trauma and complications.

But Dr. Deadly is focusing here on the pain we may inadvertently cause ourselves by keeping ourselves from being known, and essentially causing the pain centers of our brains to light up. Dear reader, would you smash your head against a brick wall? Pour boiling water over your hand? Dr. Deadly certainly hopes not. So, in the times and places where feeling understood and seen might be more important, don’t hurt yourself. Thoughtfully and carefully open up and navigate the world, just like you’d navigate around a brick wall or through the task of making a cup of tea.

Dr. Deadly doesn’t do spoilers, so to find out whether and how the characters in Our Last Resort navigate their pain, their disclosures, and their knowledge of each other, you’ll want to read the book. And as you read it, and any other novel, consider it through this lens: how do the characters impact their own lives and happiness by what they do – and don’t – reveal of themselves?