YOU by Caroline Kepnes

Narrated by Santino Fontana

     Sick

Listening to YOU will force you into a season of introspective self-loathing and disgust, especially if you make it all the way to the end. This book has no silver lining no pot-of-gold reward at the end of the non-existent rainbow. YOU is undiluted and unremittingly debased depravity from start to finish. And, yes I did finish, so that explains why I am so negative in my descriptions here. Delving into this book forces the listener to tap into the lexicon of derogatory and morose words that are, admittedly, so great to find something to use them on that one can look fondly upon the material that caused you to dredge them out.

Think of this audiobook production is a sociological experiment on the mind—your mind. What could a writer do to make the listener be willing to Masochistically torture themselves for days; immersing themselves into the twisted and depraved mind of a narcissistic serial killer? First the story would have to be told in the first person and be peppered with flecks of truth that even normal people could relate to. Then the reader could be taken in by setting the story in the world of books. Who doesn’t like a story about a book lover? The characters would necessarily need to be realistic to a degree. The demented stalker would share the opinion on many readers by being a quick judge of character, able to see through Ivy-League educated, hypocritical rich spoiled brats and to make sarcastic comments about them that make you feel smug. Right away you can relate to the protagonist in at least one aspect; so, later, when he is revealed to be a sick pervert the listener will not immediately abandon the book for something light and uplifting. Now the most critical element comes into play: we must find a great narrator—no, a performer—who can insinuate himself into our head through the ears with seductive serrations and spot-on character voicings.

Here is where the insidious Santino Fontana makes his contribution. Santino, I feel like we are on a first name basis after suffering through this excruciation together, is a wonderful narrator. He is the only reason many of us will be able to stick it out until the end and finish this book. He is so good at making this book seem normal, when it is not—it is a sick twisted thing meant to force you to embrace your most base nature. And for this reason Santino is largely to blame for my ennui. Were it not for him I would have bailed on this book before the half-way mark. But because he is so good at depicting the malignant and profane as completely normal I listened to the very end—and he even made me think I enjoyed it. I can never forgive him for that.