Nothing So Strange

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From the author of such great novels as Lost Horizon, Goodbye Mr. Chips, and Random Harvest comes Nothing So Strange—a real stinker.

James Hilton, of course, was a successful novelist and screenwriter in the 1930s and 40s.  He published this novel toward the end of his career, and it falls short of the standard he set in his earlier years.

The plot has potential.  A young woman meets a promising scientist in Europe in the years before the Second World War.  She follows his career as he meets with tragedy, then disappears for a few years.  She catches up to him just as the war is ending, and gradually draws from him a story that includes deception, revenge and, possibly, an act of heroism.  And in the background mysterious agents are asking questions and, possibly, spying on them all.

But many of the conflicts and subplots the author develops are never resolved—not even vaguely.  Long philosophical conversations occur between the two main characters.  Those discussions are interesting as the characters develop, but several of the later ones are rehashes of earlier conversations.  You are compelled to stick with them, though, carrying the futile expectation that answers to a few outstanding questions will be forthcoming.

The conclusion sneaks up on you as you’re still anticipating resolutions.  It’s as though the author suddenly decided he had simply had enough.

Hilton is still one of my favorites.  But Nothing So Strange may make you regret the time investment you’ve made. I’ve seldom felt that way about any book, but in the final analysis, there may be nothing so strange as Nothing So Strange.

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