Mr. Peanut  by Adam Ross

Publication date/ Length: 2010 / 335 pages

First line: When David Pepin first dreamed of killing his wife, he didn’t kill her himself.

Synopsis (from the back cover): David Pepin has been in love with his wife, Alice, since the moment they met in a university seminar on Alfred Hitchcock. After thirteen years of marriage, he still can’t imagine a remotely happy life without her — yet he obsessively contemplates her demise. Soon she is dead, and David is both deeply distraught and the prime suspect.

Review:  What a trip — and well worth the library’s late fee…!  These were the first thoughts that came to mind upon finishing Mr. Peanut.  This novel is such a crazy, twisting, mind-bending thrill ride, ala-Hitchcock.  However, in the spirit of full-disclosure, I must admit that I was a uniquely well-suited reader.  I taught Hitchcock’s films for years, and this is a marvelous homage to his milieu, yet still maintains a unique identity as well. 

When my friend Anna recommended Mr. Peanut, I knew to look past the dark and unappealing premise and jump in.  Fortunately, I’m very happily married, so the thought of spending 335 pages with a man who “obsessively contemplat[es his wife’s] demise” (as stated in the jacket flap) would normally be a deterrent. I do not enjoy murder mysteries, per se, but do love psychological thrillers, and Mr. Peanut is definitely more the latter. The novel is described as a “Mobius strip of a novel” by Kirkus reviews and like an Escher drawing by others; and, beyond the fact that Mobius is the name of one of the darkest characters – both are apt comparisons. 

The novel opens with the death of woman by anaphylactic shock – death by peanut – and then delves into her fascinating marriage, before careening into the equally bizarre marriage of the primary detective on the case (the MacGuffin), spiraling into a fascinating section that reinvents the infamous Dr. Sheppard murder case, returning throughout the narrative to the thread of the original marriage. In addition, the accused murderer is writing a novel — which surfaces periodically as well.  Beyond the circuitous narrative structure, each sub-plot is fascinating and suspenseful in its own right. 

Honestly, I could barely put this down after the first page and read the bulk of the novel in an afternoon.  In one sense, this novel fulfills the dream stated by the murdered Alice:  to exist “as purpose without procedure. You felt some sort of resolution or ending luring you forward but had no idea really how to actually arrive at it, though you had to get there nonetheless. Life, when you came right down to it, was like that too.” As one character states, “[Hitchcock] wanted to tell a completely unbelievable story with inescapable logic.”  Mr. Peanut somehow achieves this goal while remaining an overwhelmingly good read, too. 

Anyone else stumble upon Mr. Peanut yet?

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