He is her husband. She is his captive.
Her husband calls her Jane. That is not her name.
She lives in a small farm cottage, surrounded by vast, open fields. Everywhere she looks, there is space. But she is trapped. No one knows how she got to the UK: no one knows she is there. Visitors rarely come to the farm; if they do, she is never seen.
Her husband records her every movement during the day. If he doesn’t like what he sees, she is punished.
For a long time, escape seemed impossible. But now, something has changed. She has a reason to live and a reason to fight. Now, she is watching him, and waiting…
I’ve not read Will Dean’s work until now, though I’ve always been aware of it. Even before the arrival of his best-seller The Last Thing To Burn, I’ve seen reviews of his previous work in the Twittersphere, and the praise has not gone unnoticed. I’ve always intended to get round to reading Dean’s novels. As with most readers, my to-read pile has been teetering on the brink of collapse since I was about twelve years old, so actually, ‘getting round’ to a certain book can happen in any given time-frame, anywhere between months and years. However, it became increasingly difficult for me to ignore the continuous stream of screamy, excited reviews, and I’ll admit, I caved. I went straight to Amazon, purchased my copy, waited for it to arrive on my Kindle, and started it immediately. In the darkness of my bedroom, as I took my first tentative steps into this world, and as I wondered what awaited me, I found myself stood in the dismal little cottage, warm beside the Rayburn, waiting to meet Lenn and Jane for the very first time…
The Last Thing To Burn by Will Dean follows the life of Jane. Jane is Lenn’s husband, and Jane has no control over her life, and has no freedom. Jane is watched all day everyday via cameras. Jane has a strict routine. Jane makes dinner. Jane will stoke up the Rayburn. Jane will have a bath. Then Jane will either sleep in the small back bedroom, or in the same room as her husband, depending on her menstrual cycle. Jane isn’t living. Jane is simply existing. She more often than not will mentally separate herself from her own body, in order to survive. The one thing keeping Jane going is the thought of her younger sister, until the one thing keeping Jane going becomes something else entirely. And then, the stakes are almost too high. But freedom is only ever a burst of courage away. And courage can quite often be found in the comfort of another. It’s just a question of when, and with who.
Claustrophobic. Emotionally draining. Horrifying. There really isn’t a word to describe how deep this novel managed to drag me down. Within just a few chapters, I was consumed entirely by this terrifying, tiny world that existed between the four walls that were Jane and Lenn’s home. Though surrounded by such a vast amount of open space, it was incredible how the author still managed to make it feel like nothing else existed outside of the cottage. That the small rooms, rooms full of damp and rot that I’m convinced I could almost smell, were the only rooms that existed in the whole entire world. The feeling of being trapped, of a whole life being confined to such a small space, was so powerful within this novel, it made me feel constricted, also. I found myself kicking my legs from beneath my blanket, just to remind myself that I was free to do so. Dean ensures that the reader experiences every single emotion that is felt by Jane. The despair. The hopelessness. The fear. But on the other side of that, the hope, the faith, the love, which is incredible to know still exists in the woman who has been through so much in the time she has spent in the cottage with Lenn.
I loved the exploration of sense of self and identity within this novel. It was so important for Jane to not forget herself, and I understood this entirely. After all, when you’re given a name that doesn’t belong to you, I can imagine that after such a long time, who you truly are would begin to slip away, lost beneath the faux identity you’d been assigned. I enjoyed the tender moments of recollection. Looking back on her past and the memories she held dear of her family and her life back in Vietnam warmed my heart and allowed me to feel closer to her. Jane’s character was incredibly well-crafted, so much so that it’s hard to believe she isn’t real. I love to put myself in a characters’ shoes when I’m reading, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so in these circumstances without feeling my stomach tighten with anxiety and worry. After all, Jane’s life, and what she deals with, is quite simply repulsive. It amazes me that still, after everything she goes through in her story, there is that tiny flame of hope in her chest that remains. That determination, that sense of worth, that pull towards knowing she is strong enough, and that it’s just about waiting for the right moment. I’ve not felt tension of such a strength before. It’s incredibly powerful and I can only applaud the author for creating such a poisonous atmosphere for his characters to reside in.
Lenn was something else. I’m not sure I’ve ever come across such a monster before now, and to say he terrified me would be an understatement. Although not outwardly violent and loud, it was the fact he managed to stay so calm and silent when doing such unspeakable things that unnerved me most. Isn’t that the sign of a psychopath? The ability to remain emotionless in such horrible circumstances? Although at times he seemed almost docile, there was a permanent edge of danger to this man. Of something within him that I could tell was not afraid of taking things to the next level, and we see this when, one by one, Lenn takes Jane’s possessions from her and burns them in the fire, with no consideration as to how she may feel. He asserts his power and authority again and again throughout the novel, only ever reinforcing the ultimate truth, and that is that Jane will never be free. He loves to keep a routine, and the constant mentions of his mother really got on my nerves. The fact that she had also been called Jane made the situation with the new Jane all the more stranger. I began to wonder whether Jane was in fact just a replacement mother for Lenn, someone who cleaned and made his dinner for him. Although a physical brute of a man, I couldn’t help feeling that there was definitely a weakness to Lenn somehow, though I couldn’t put my finger on it. He wasn’t stupid, but I didn’t get the impression that he was incredibly sharp, either. At one point, the consequences of his actions leave Lenn worrying, and it gave me the impression that Lenn would probably act on instinct quite a lot, but rarely think of what would come after.
The pacing of this novel was exceptional. I can’t recall the last time I turned the pages with such a feverish need to reach the end. Will Dean ensured that with every new chapter, there was something new to keep me involved. Not once did I lose interest. It wouldn’t have been possible, anyway. I became so invested in Jane’s life, so troubled and concerned, that I felt if I put the book down, then perhaps something terrible would happen while I was away. Silly as it may sound, I couldn’t bring myself to take my eyes off her for a single second. It was almost like I needed to be there for her, to share the pain and grief and despair so that she wouldn’t be shouldering it alone. Bizarre, isn’t it, how you can come to feel for fictional characters in such a way! But when the author writes so excellently that you feel this close to the characters, then it’s surely a good thing.
From the first page, I became mentally and emotionally invested in this book. I felt as though I was one with Jane, that every decision she made, we made it together, and ultimately, whatever happened to her, was going to affect me on such a deep level, I’d lose a part of myself, too. The tension was unbearable from the beginning, and only seemed to grow more so as the plot progressed. And so, by the end, I’d lost my ability to breathe normally, and it was a final surge through the last chapters, so that I could finally exhale. This was an exceptionally well-thought out, snake-bite-venomous, utterly gripping novel, a terrifying and tremendous balancing act by Will Dean, between hope and despair, of light and darkness. Although heavy, the peppering of faith and will to survive were the moments I, much like Jane, found myself clinging to.
I cannot recommend The Last Thing To Burn by Will Dean enough. All that I can say is, go and read it for yourself. You won’t regret it, I can promise you that. And by the end of it, you’ll wish you could go back and do it all over again, once you’ve taken the time to recover, of course.
Will Dean grew up in the East Midlands, living in nine different villages before the age of eighteen. After studying law at the LSE, and working many varied jobs in London, he settled in rural Sweden with his wife. He built a wooden house in a boggy forest clearing and it’s from this base that he compulsively reads and writes.
You can find Will Dean on Twitter.
You can purchase your copy of The Last Thing To Burn by Will Dean here.
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