Here we go again, another book review. I realize I don’t do these often, but this time I found a book that was worthy of it. I haven’t been to a library for a fiction novel in years, but I’m nearing the end of my semester, and it’s been so long since I read a book for fun. I thought picking something up from the library would be a great way to momentarily distract myself as I prepare to buckle down for finals. Experts say that the most effective studying should be done in 50-90 minute intervals with 10 minute breaks in between. So I thought this book would be something to help me unwind during those 10-minute breaks between study sessions.

Nope. 

Big mistake, because this book ended up distracting me for three whole weeks, leaving me with little time to study. And even when I was studying, I was distracted, because I kept thinking about this book.

I have an odd practice when it comes to reading books, or rather, deciding whether or not I will read a book. I call it my 3-page rule; if a book doesn’t hook me in three pages, chances are, I won’t read the whole thing. It’s harsh, I know, but life is too short for boring books. 

Anyway, let’s get right into it: Savage Girl by Jean Zimmerman tells the story of the Hugo Delegate, a Harvard anatomy student and eldest son of the ridiculously wealthy and eccentric Friedrich Delegate, a silver tycoon of 19^th century New York, and the eponymous Savage Girl, a feral child form the wilderness of Nevada, Bronwyn, whose savagery is matched only by the ruthless high-class families of an Edith Wharton-era Upper Manhattan. Hugo’s eccentric father runs into Bronwyn, the feral child reportedly raised by wolves in the wilds of the Sierra, and takes her in as his ward. Their family begins grooming Bronwyn and rehabilitating her, preparing her to make her formal debut into New York society while Hugo, ever in denial, begins falling for the mysterious, dark-haired beauty. But then Bronwyn’s suitors begin to turn up murdered and horridly disfigured, and all eyes are on the Savage Girl herself. And in the middle of it all is Hugo, who is ready to take the fall for his beloved.

The book begins with a self-dramatizing, tormented Hugo waiting to be arrested by police for the grotesque murder of his friend, whose body is also in the room, mutilated. Normally, I don’t like prologues that begin with the end because I don’t like spoilers, but in this particular case, I liked it. It was enticing, filled with questions and demands: “Who killed that man?” “Who is the victim?” “Who is Hugo covering for?” “Where’s Bronwyn?” and the biggest question of all throughout the book: “Is Hugo covering up for Bronwyn, or did he actually kill all those people?”

The thing about Hugo that makes him such a compelling character is that you never know if you can trust him or anything he says. He’s such a likable person but at the same time, unreliable as a narrator because he reveals, early on in the story, that he spent some time in a sanatorium because he suffered from hallucinations, suicidal thoughts, depression, and has a habit of fainting. So when I read his narration, I had to constantly question the verity of his accounts. Did that actually happen or was it another one of his hallucinations? Hugo couldn’t possibly have committed that murder, but he himself doesn’t remember anything, so what if he actually did kill that person, and he just doesn’t remember because he was in a dissociative state?

It all makes sense, too once you put it together. Bronwyn’s suitors all fall victim to brutal homicide, so is it Hugo picking off his rivals? All the victims are found dismembered and mutilated, murdered all in the same way, with one clean strike across the femoral artery. Could it be the work of Hugo, the anatomy student, a habitual dissector of men? 

Or is it Bronwyn herself? The savage Girl from the wilderness of the West, whose innate savagery, in spite of all the new finery and education, cannot be suppressed? 

Let’s start with what I liked about the book: Hugo. 

Hugo Delegate was easily my favorite character in the book, which might be a cheat, since it was, after all, told from his point of view. His instability as a narrator, however, was precisely what I liked about him. He had a way of keeping the narrative fresh and interesting since he was, at the same time, an insider and an outsider of the ruthless, upper-class society that his family belongs to. He had a way of making things dramatic without going overboard, and I loved how tormented he was over his feelings for Bronwyn. On one hand, he was head-over-heels in love with her, but on the other, he was hesitant to admit it even to himself and tried to deny it by convincing himself that what he felt for her was simply brotherly affection. Kind of like Tamaki and Haruhi from Ouran High School Host Club. He also has a keen interest in anatomy that borders on obsession and it’s up to the reader to decide whether or not they find his obsession with opening up bodies to be a harmless interest or a worrisome pastime. Like Norman Bates stuffing dead things in his basement, Hugo has a weird obsession with collecting body parts and putting them into jars of formaldehyde and putting them on his shelf. For science, of course. 

Yet at the same time, you can also see that Hugo is a really sensitive guy who just wants to fall in love and is struggling to find a place for himself. He also has some very fun relationships with his family members, particularly with his parents who insist that their sons refer to them by their first names. There’s also his rivalry with his younger brother, who also has a little crush on Bronwyn, their new “sister”.

Jean Zimmerman also has a beautiful writing style, wrought with literary and historical allusions that make you feel like a smart m*therf*cker when you actually understand the references. Beware, however, you will use the dictionary a lot. 19^th century New York society is also brought vividly to life in this novel, so there is plenty to tickle your imagination. I, for one, happen to love novels set in the American Gilded Age. Some people, however, might find her style to be a little overwrought, with too many lists and descriptions of things like food, curtains, interior decor, etc. I thought it was fine, but if you’re not down for a little bit more reading than usual, then maybe you should move on to your next book. 

What I didn’t like: well, actually, I kind of liked the whole book. My only complaint would probably be that the ending is a bit abrupt. The was really exciting and I had to read it at least four times before it could sink in, but the action sort of just cuts off in the middle of it all. The answer to the mystery is also quite obvious once you actually know. Also, the book frequently switches between the past and the present as Hugo speaks to his lawyers in his jail cell, confessing to them. Normally, I find tense switches to be distracting but in this particular book, the author does it seamlessly, weaving the switches into the storyline, so it’s not too abrupt. If you’re not a fan of the first-person mode, this book might also be a turn-off for you since we are in Hugo’s head 100% of the time. However, if you give it a chance, I’m sure you’ll find Hugo’s narration to be darkly charming and weirdly humorous. 

Here’s a quick excerpt from the book of one of my favorite parts—Hugo describing what happens at a debutante ball:

“The male role at a female debut was in fact limited. Observer, meet the observed. Dance with her (but only once), admire her (from afar), allow her to excite your enthusiasm for possessing her. Within the year, or at the very outside within two or three, all of the sixty or so mesdemoiselles of the season should become mesdames. If not, they would be taken out into a field and killed.

Well, not really. But you get the idea.”

If you’re interested, I highly recommend this book! Lots of intrigue, murder, eccentric rich people, luxurious descriptions, dark humor, and a tormented love story in the middle of it all. Here’s a link to buy it on Amazon, but be sure to check your local library if you want to save some money.