Engaging Review of Flashout by Alexis Soloski
As someone who eagerly awaits compelling narratives that blur the lines between genre fiction and literary depth, I couldn’t help but feel a thrill when I picked up Flashout, the second novel by Alexis Soloski. After her impactful debut, Here in the Dark, I had high hopes—especially since Flashout resonated with an idea I once toyed with for a film script. It’s always exhilarating to discover an author who has thought along similar lines, yet fascinating to see how they have crafted something utterly distinct.
Set across two pivotal eras, 1972 and 1997, Flashout tells the gripping story of a high school professor in California whose life is overshadowed by a traumatic past linked to a controversial experimental theater group reminiscent of the avant-garde movements of the ’60s and ’70s. This backdrop not only provides rich historical texture but also creates a dense atmosphere tinged with mystery and tension. Soloski deftly intertwines these timelines, crafting a narrative that unpacks the layers of her protagonist’s guilt while introducing a chilling figure from her past—a haunting reminder of choices made and paths taken.
What struck me most was Soloski’s artistic choice to shift narrative perspectives: the past is recounted in the first person, immersing us deeply within the protagonist’s psyche, while the present is narrated in the third person. This disassociation enhances the reader’s understanding of her trauma, making every revelation feel visceral and raw. It’s a clever stylistic move that I found both effective and refreshing, showcasing Soloski’s adeptness at manipulating narrative voice to mirror the inner turmoil of her character.
The prose is sharp, atmospheric, and downright engaging—an ode to classic American crime literature infused with an intellectual undertone. I was particularly drawn to how Soloski navigates the murky waters of morality, transgression, and the human psyche. The exploration of what drives individuals to commit acts that shatter their moral compass lingered with me long after I turned the final page. It invites readers to ponder: How far would you go to quell your innermost desires, and what shadows would it cast on your soul?
One of the intriguing elements of the novel is its subtle commentary on the American avant-garde theater scene, an underexplored area in mainstream fiction. While Flashout lives firmly in the thriller genre, this hidden layer adds richness, which I believe many readers could appreciate, especially those familiar with Soloski’s work as a theater critic.
In closing, Flashout is a compelling read for anyone who enjoys a tightly woven thriller that probes the depths of human behavior and the complexities of guilt. It’s a story that resonates on multiple levels—entertaining while also challenging existential notions about choice and consequence. I would enthusiastically recommend this book to both genre purists and those curious about the effects of artistic expression on life.
Having journeyed through the intricate landscapes of Soloski’s imagination, I truly believe Flashout could be the perfect gateway for readers looking to dive into her world. It has all the makings of a modern classic, and I cannot wait to see where her literary journey takes us next.