The Scorching Summer That Changed Everything
There’s something about a heatwave that makes everything feel more intense, more volatile. In Tana French’s latest novel “The Hunter,” the relentless Irish summer sun beats down on the small village of Ardnakelty, baking the earth and fraying tempers. It’s against this backdrop of shimmering heat and parched fields that French unfolds a tale as layered and complex as the mountainous landscape itself.
This is a story about outsiders and insiders, about the bonds we forge and the ones we break, about the lengths we’ll go to protect what’s ours—whether that’s land, loved ones, or long-buried secrets. French, known for her Dublin Murder Squad series and standalone thrillers like “The Witch Elm,” proves once again that she’s a master of atmospheric suspense. But “The Hunter” is more than just a crime novel; it’s a deep dive into the heart of a community and the dark currents that run beneath its surface.
A Retired Cop, A Troubled Teen, and A Town on Edge
At the center of this simmering pot is Cal Hooper, an ex-Chicago cop who’s traded the Windy City for the windswept hills of western Ireland. Cal’s found a measure of peace in Ardnakelty, restoring old furniture and slowly building a life with local woman Lena. He’s even managed to form a bond with Trey Reddy, a scrappy teenager from up the mountain who’s more feral than socialized when we first meet her.
But Cal’s hard-won tranquility is shattered when two men arrive in the village: Johnny Reddy, Trey’s long-absent father, and Cillian Rushborough, an English businessman with dreams of striking it rich. They come with tales of gold hidden in the hills, of ancestral rights and buried treasures. It’s the kind of story that sets a small town ablaze with possibility—and suspicion.
French excels at painting vivid characters, and the inhabitants of Ardnakelty are no exception. There’s Mart Lavin, Cal’s neighbor, a wily old farmer with more layers than an onion. Noreen, who runs the village shop and seems to know everyone’s business before they do. And then there’s Trey herself, all jagged edges and raw potential, a girl teetering on the knife-edge between a bright future and a dark past.
A Powder Keg Waiting for a Spark
As Johnny and Rushborough’s grand plans unfold, the village becomes a pressure cooker of hope, greed, and long-simmering resentments. French masterfully ratchets up the tension, each chapter feeling like another turn of the screw. We know something’s got to give, but when and how? The author keeps us guessing, dropping breadcrumbs of clues and red herrings with equal skill.
When violence finally erupts—as we know it must in a French novel—it’s both shocking and inevitable. The discovery of a body on the mountain road sets off a chain reaction that threatens to tear apart everything Cal, Lena, and Trey have built. As a detective from Dublin arrives to investigate, old wounds are reopened and loyalties are tested.
More Than Just a Whodunit
While the murder mystery forms the backbone of the plot, The Hunter by Tana French is about so much more than figuring out who killed whom. It’s about the weight of history, the power of place, and the sometimes suffocating bonds of community. French explores how the past shapes us, how the land we live on can define us, and how even the most tight-knit communities can harbor deep-seated prejudices and resentments.
The author’s prose is, as always, a joy to read. She has a knack for capturing the essence of a place, making the reader feel the oppressive heat, smell the dry earth, hear the whisper of wind through the heather. Her dialogue crackles with authenticity, each character’s voice distinct and true to their background.
A Study in Shades of Gray
One of French’s greatest strengths as a writer is her refusal to paint her characters in black and white. Even the “villains” of the piece have their reasons, their own twisted logic that makes sense within their worldview. And our protagonists? They’re far from perfect. Cal, for all his good intentions, makes mistakes. Lena has her own secrets. And Trey… well, Trey is a force of nature, unpredictable and raw.
As the story unfolds, we’re forced to grapple with some uncomfortable questions. What makes a family? How far would we go to protect someone we love? And when does justice become revenge?
A Satisfying Slow Burn
Readers familiar with French’s work will know not to expect a breakneck pace. The Hunter by Tana French is a slow burn, taking its time to establish its characters and setting. Some might find the first third of the book a bit slow, but patience is rewarded. Once the dominoes start falling, they don’t stop until the very last page.
The climax, when it comes, is both thrilling and emotionally devastating. French doesn’t pull her punches, and the consequences of her characters’ actions feel real and weighty. There are no easy answers here, no neat resolutions where everyone rides off into the sunset. Instead, we’re left with a bittersweet ending that feels true to the story and its characters.
A Return to Form
After the somewhat divisive reception of her previous novel, “The Searcher” (which also featured Cal Hooper), “The Hunter” feels like a return to form for French. It combines the best elements of her earlier work—the intricate plotting, the deep dive into character psychology, the exploration of how past trauma shapes present actions—with a newfound maturity in her writing.
The pacing is tighter than in “The Searcher,” the stakes feel higher, and the integration of the mystery plot with the character development is seamless. French has always been skilled at blending genres, and here she successfully marries elements of the traditional mystery novel with literary fiction and even a touch of rural noir.
Not Without Its Flaws
That’s not to say The Hunter by Tana French is perfect. Some readers might find the extensive use of Irish dialect challenging, though French does provide enough context for most unfamiliar terms. There are also a few plot threads that feel slightly underdeveloped, particularly regarding some of the secondary characters.
Additionally, while the slow-burn approach works overall, there are moments where the pacing drags, particularly in some of the longer dialogue scenes. And those looking for a straightforward police procedural might be frustrated by the novel’s meandering path to resolution.
A Worthy Addition to French’s Canon
Despite these minor quibbles, “The Hunter” stands as a worthy addition to Tana French’s already impressive body of work. It’s a novel that lingers in the mind long after the last page is turned, inviting reflection on themes of belonging, identity, and the sometimes blurry line between justice and vengeance.
For fans of French’s earlier works, particularly the Dublin Murder Squad series, “The Hunter” offers a familiar blend of psychological depth and intricate plotting. For newcomers, it serves as an excellent introduction to her style, showcasing her ability to create fully realized characters and vividly drawn settings.
In Good Company
“The Hunter” sits comfortably alongside other contemporary crime novels that blur the lines between genre fiction and literary fiction. Readers who enjoy the work of authors like Kate Atkinson, Denise Mina, or Jane Harper will find much to appreciate here.
It also bears comparison to some of the great rural noir novels, echoing the work of writers like Daniel Woodrell or Chris Offutt in its exploration of how landscape and community shape character and fate.
Final Verdict
“The Hunter” is a rich, multi-layered novel that rewards careful reading and thoughtful engagement. It’s a mystery, yes, but it’s also a character study, a meditation on community, and a exploration of the sometimes destructive power of the past.
Tana French continues to push the boundaries of what crime fiction can be, delivering a novel that is both intellectually stimulating and emotionally resonant. While it may not be for everyone – particularly those who prefer their mysteries neat and tidy – for readers willing to immerse themselves in its world, “The Hunter” offers a deeply satisfying experience.
In the end, like the best of French’s work, it leaves us with as many questions as answers. And isn’t that, after all, what great literature should do?