on 12th December 2018
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The problem with secrets is that they’re too easy to keep collecting.
Luna Allen has done some things she would rather no one ever know about. She also knows that, if she could go back in time, she wouldn’t change a single thing.
With three sisters she loves, a job she (mostly) adores, and a family built up of friends she’s made over the years, Luna figures everything has worked out the way it was supposed to.
But when one of those secrets involves the man who signs her paycheck, she can’t find it in her to regret it. Despite the fact that he’s not the friendliest man in the world. Or the most patient.
Sometimes there are things you’re better off keeping to yourself.
Getting into a Mariana Zapata book can be daunting. The slow burn—and inevitable length that comes with it—can be both the strength and weakness of the story: this is a balm to sooth the souls of haters of instant love/lust, but also a source of frustration for readers who don’t need every single detail of the protagonists’s quotidian catalogued and repeated page after page.
‘Luna and the Lie’ is classic Zapata (but when has this been any different?): a typically part-overworked, part-naive, down-to-earth (sometimes with the world on her shoulders) and generally likeable heroine who tries hard to adhere to an optimistic-till-death lifelong motto, even when taken down brutally by circumstances and dickish heroes.
Luna Allen fits this mould. It’s easy to form a kind of reader rapport with her, but that is the consistent first-person POV that skews our sympathies to lie with her. On the other hand, there’s the pitfall of having Luna exposed as a ray of sunshine to the point of being spineless and Ripley so obscured that he mostly appears at the periphery as an unevolved neanderthal who doesn’t know how to use the power of speech — instead, using obscure mundane things like giving rides as a symbol of his growing affection, until it really matters most at the end when he miraculously becomes a fountain of words.
For the longest time, I wasn’t sure where the story was going, even though it was clear that there were some revelations that needed revealing and even by the end, I wasn’t entirely satisfied with Lucas Ripley’s history that was simply sketchily drawn up. Point is, it did start to feel as though Zapata was adding length for the sake of doing so in order to draw out the slow burn, and not because her mundane scenes added much significant value to the plot.
The whole reading experience was a bumpy one, as a result. I constantly wavered between skimming, wanting to not finish, and then getting engrossed in an upcoming particular scene…rinse and repeat, so the rating I’m leaving isn’t quite one that I think can accurately reflect how I really felt about this.
Does the slow burn work? Maybe. Do Luna and Rip work as a pair? I’m still not sure, which is probably the main point of it all.