Alex Michaelides’ The Maidens

Have you ever regretted reading a book — which one and why?

There are books I remember loving, books I remember hating, and then there are books where I remember almost nothing except the overwhelming feeling of why did I finish that?

Alex Michaelides’ The Maidens falls firmly into the third category.

I read this book a few years ago, so this is hardly a fresh reaction. But every now and then, I come across the title and remember that I actually sat through the entire thing. And what’s especially telling is that my entire review at the time consisted of three words: “Disappointing at best.”

That’s it. No detailed analysis. No passionate rant. Just disappointment.

But there are a few things I do remember. The writing was so boring. The protagonist was unbearable, which made spending the entire book in her head feel like a chore. And despite the title, The Maidens themselves were barely characters in the story. Considering they’re supposed to be central to the entire mystery, I remember being surprised by how little I actually cared about any of them.

And then there was the twist.

I wasn’t shocked. I wasn’t stunned. I wasn’t frantically reconsidering everything I had just read. I was basically sitting there thinking, Okay… and?

The worst part is that I didn’t even DNF it. I stuck with it until the end, presumably hoping that the payoff would redeem everything that came before it.

It didn’t.

Years later, I may not remember every detail of The Maidens, but apparently I remember enough to know that my original “disappointing at best” review was incredibly generous.