Hiddenby Paul Jaskunas
Six years after the attack, Maggie Wilson receives a call from the prosecutor who helped put her husband in jail after Maggie identified him as the man/i>
- Editorial Reviews
- Product Details
- Related Subjects
- Read an Excerpt
- What People Are Saying
- Meet the author
As unnerving as it is mesmerizing, Hidden is an evocative, emotionally charged domestic drama -- a willful and traumatized woman's painful search for the truth about the man who assaulted her one summer night.
Six years after the attack, Maggie Wilson receives a call from the prosecutor who helped put her husband in jail after Maggie identified him as the man who nearly killed her. Told that another inmate has confessed to the crime and that her ex-husband will be freed, the shock plunges Maggie into memories of her stormy marriage to Nate Duke, the ambitious heir to a real estate company. Secluded in an old farmhouse that was her marital home, Maggie relives her marriage to Nate and his abusive treatment of her. But in her present, a very different man is haunting her -- the born-again convict who has confessed to the crime. As his story competes with hers, Maggie pores through trial transcripts, old journals, and photo albums, trying fruitlessly to remember exactly what happened.
Written in spare, elegant prose, Paul Jaskunas's novel reads like a waking dream as Maggie is torn by the question -- was it Nate? Or was it this stranger who seems to know intimate details? And what will it cost her to discover the truth? A work of searing suspense written in the heroine's brave voice, Hidden is ultimately about a woman confronting the betrayal of her body and the ambiguity of her mind.
- Free Press
- Publication date:
- Product dimensions:
- 6.06(w) x 9.32(h) x 0.90(d)
Read an Excerpt
By Jaskunas, Paul
Free PressCopyright © 2004 Jaskunas, Paul
All right reserved.
Chapter One: Summer 1996
At three-twenty in the morning, I am unconscious on the floor, and Jacobs and Castle are coming in their car.
The almanac says there is a quarter moon. The newspapers say it is partly cloudy. The house the police car approaches is mostly dark, except for the entryway light glowing from the open door and guestroom window to the left. My neighbor, an old man in his pajamas, stands on my porch waving frantically at the car.
Entering, the officers walk around broken glass, spilled juice, an overturned wicker basket of flowers. They hustle down a hall and into the guestroom, where there is an oak bed with four brass posts. At the foot of this bed I lie on the floor, my body curled on its side. Hair covers my face, and my left foot twitches at the ankle, tapping the bedpost softly.
Castle will write in the report: "Victim wearing white nightgown, bloodied but intact."
I am proud of this room because of the bed, which I slept in as a child in my girlhood home, but most of all because of the painting by Nate's grandfather hanging on the wall. It's of our house, but more than our house. Standing before a lush forest, this gray Victorian home with its stained glass and red lattice has the gloss and glare of a vision that lacks nothing, that is complete and unified according to its own austerity and the generosity of its rooms. Out front, in the flowerbeds, marigolds bristle in the sun, and a boy and dog run through the grass. Nate says it's him, though it is hard to tell. The boy is just a few strokes of the brush.
When they find me, I am still breathing. My pulse is slow. I have three wounds.
The house around me is not so brilliant as the picture. The gray paint has blistered in the heat, and the lattice, dulled by dust, is encased in spider silk. The marigolds have since been replaced with red impatiens that all summer have suffered neglect and wilted in the hot Indiana sun. The forest behind the house hides a ravine seething with crickets. Its tangled trees, crawling with vines, hold the night in their limbs.
The first cut is a laceration an inch below my left clavicle. The second, a long tear on my upper arm. The third, a deep gash, arcs from the top of my crown to the left side of my forehead, which is pressed against the carpet when the officers arrive.
"Intruder probably entered thru front door, seized/struggled w/ victim in entryway, forced her into 1st flr. b.r. on north side of house. Victim unconscious and bleeding."
When I think of myself on the floor, I imagine myself as a little girl. I can see her curled up on her side, her face and gown softened by the moon. Her fingers innocently grope, as if for an imagined Teddy, as her foot moves gently back and forth. I don't see her blood. I don't feel the pain. She is only sleeping in the moonlight, waiting for someone to touch her and say, "Stop dreaming, Maggie. It's time to wake up."
Copyright ©2004 by Paul Jaskunas
Excerpted from Hidden by Jaskunas, Paul Copyright © 2004 by Jaskunas, Paul. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
What People are Saying About This
He's also a glorious writer. It's no small feat for a male novelist to write in the first person voice of a female protagonist, but Jaskunas has it down completely, no hint of a stutter or misstep. His sense of place is precise and exact, his evocation of the small town of New Harmony, in which Maggie is the "local eccentric," as beautifully wrought as the word picture of the farmhouse in which she and her husband settle and the newspaper office where she works. And while this is ostensibly a book about a crime, it is really about the universal mystery of identity. Driving alone through "chapped, windblown intersections," letting her home go until she moves "through the filth like a resentful guest," the unmoored Maggie seeks not only the answer to the question of who beat her unconscious but how she ever managed to get to this place to begin with.
Meet the Author
Raised in Indiana, Paul Jaskunas took degrees at Oberlin College and Cornell University. A recent recipient of a Fulbright fellowship and grant from the Constance Saltonstall Foundation for the Arts, he has written for The Chicago Tribune, The American Lawyer, Commonweal, and other publications. Mr. Jaskunas lives in Arlington, Virginia, with his wife, Solveiga. This is his first novel.
- Arlington, Virginia
- Date of Birth:
- October 6, 1971
- Place of Birth:
- San Antonio, Texas
- Oberlin College, 1994; Cornell University 2000
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
See all customer reviews
When college senior Maggie Wilson meets Nathan Duke, a man with money in the family, business plans, and political aspirations, their courtship results in a marriage. Though Nate truly loves her, their matrimony seems more like a conquest than a foundation for longevity. As the marriage progresses, the couples idiosyncrasies are revealed to one another. Nate is the jealous type who tends to drink too much. Maggie is a bit on the naïve side. Her epileptic seizures cause her grief and memory lapses................. After Maggie begins to fall for Phil Carson, a reporter from her workplace, things get complicated. One fateful morning, Maggie awakens to a lump on her head and blood on the floor. Her husband is accused of the assault. An arrest and conviction leads to jail time for Nate. But Maggie¿s memory lapse and personal motivation causes others to doubt her story. To make matters worse, another man confesses to the very crime Nathan is accused. Maggie must decide what to trust, the words of the community around her or her own foggy memory..................... Jaskunas dances back in forth in time, from past to present with the delicacy of a trapeze artist. Written in first-person narrative, the Oberlin and Cornell graduate takes on the incredible feat of delving into the female psyche, becoming a woman on paper, and succeeding masterfully.................... If I hadn¿t known the book was written by a man, you could not have told me otherwise. The author¿s keen eye for a woman¿s mind, stylish scribing, and unforgettable and realistic characters makes this book one of the best first novels of the year. Bravo to Jaskunas for crafting such a compelling, suspenseful story. Buy this book and expect great things from this writer in the future.
this is a different book in many ways: a fiction thriller with a twist of plot and the inclusion of the domestic violence theme also ranks it as a 'domestic violence' book as well. Entertainment with a touch of insight and education woven in.
This is a great first book by novelist Paul Jaskunas. Once I started reading, I just couldn't put it down. I'm particularly impressed by the fact that Mr. Jaskunas did such a good job in writing from the first person female perspective. I'm really looking forward to Mr. Jaskunas' next book.
I read this book in a 24 hour span...I found that I couldn't put it down and was captured by the words on the page. Jaskunas' first novel is amazing. It is astounding to me how he is able to write with a 'woman's voice' so acurately. This book will be a favorite in book clubs and be talked about by the masses. I imagine Maggie will stay with me for a long time and I will wonder how she is doing.