From the Publisher
With the frenetic spirit of Gone Girl (and then some), expect scream-worthy cliffhangers and one very bizarre ending.” — Elle.com
“In any language, Perfect Days may be the most original and viscerally explicit novel you'll read this year….This novel — not for readers with delicate dispositions — is cringe-inducing and utterly monstrous. Filled with plot twists, violence and nail-biting scenes, this tale of psychological suspense uses pitch-black humor as its release valve. Montes makes you laugh, even as he makes you feel bad about doing it.”—Chicago Tribune
“[An] odd, macabre, fast-paced, twisted, and twisty novel. Is it for everyone? Not at all. But if you’ve ever wondered what Humbert Humbert would look like in modern times, you might want to pick up this short, dark, kind of sick, alternately propelling and repellant book. In its own creepy way, it’s kind of perfect.” —Omnivoracious
“This is the most messed up book I’ve read in a long time….super dark and twisted and weird and alarming and great.” —Book Riot
"Montes is one of Brazil’s rising crime novelists, and he has filled Perfect Days with suspense and joltingplot twists." —Booklist
"I was gripped from the very beginning by this, yes, perfect novel, merging literary sensibilities, psychological insight and breathtaking suspense. To top it all off, Montes brings Rio de Janeiro and Brazil to life as few authors could do. A superb achievement! Raphael Montes is a must-read!"
-Jeffery Deaver
“A nifty, albeit nasty little thriller….Montes pulls out the stops with a series of twists—one of which is not for the squeamish.”- Publisher's Weekly
“A gripping debut. Raphael Montes is a writer to watch - he will do great things!”-Sophie Hannah
"A chilling, twisty exposed nerve of a novel. Even creepier than Gone Girl. I loved it."- Lauren Beukes
"Raphael Montes is one of the most brilliant young novelists I've encountered. He is certain to redefine Brazilian crime fiction and to emerge as a figure on the world literary scene."-Scott Turow
Kirkus Reviews
2015-11-17
Psychopathology, Carioca style: well-paced but troubling thriller by Brazilian novelist/lawyer Montes. "He didn't want to come across as sick or a psycho": Hannibal Lecter he's not, not yet, but when we learn that the only person medical student Teo Avelar likes is his dissecting corpse, Gertrude, who, "in the pale light…took on a very peculiar brownish hue, like leather," well, we're sure that bad things are about to ensue. Teo lives with his crippled mother and her dog in a Rio walkup, scarred by unhappy memories. A vegetarian, nondrinker, and otherwise abstemious chap, Teo nonetheless finds himself at a party, where he is smitten by the tiny but overflowingly confident Clarice—her name not just that of a Brazilian novelist ("For God's sake," our Clarice yells, "don't talk to me about Clarice Lispector, because I've never read anything by her!"), but also that of Hannibal Lecter's bête noire, Clarice Starling. Accident? It wouldn't seem so, any more than the poor dog's passing is, and certainly not when Teo kidnaps Clarice, trusting that one day she'll love him as much as he loves her. Their interaction is ugly and violent, and it's not entirely believable that Clarice is able to turn the tables—and then Teo, and then Clarice, until the game of cat and mouse seems more like cat and cat. The suggestion that Clarice is complicit in her own captivity is both daring and controversial; John Fowles did it neatly in The Collector, but half a century on, Montes handles the question somewhat less deftly, and in any event, the characters seem incomplete, their motivations not quite clear save that Teo has a Norman Bates-ian sensitivity to matters maternal. The ending in particular lies on the very border of good and bad taste, but Montes gets points for neatly—and appallingly—connecting it to the opening of his narrative, ironic title and all, in a most unpleasant full circle. Readers of Thomas Harris and Henning Mankell may feel that they've been here before, but a fast and fluent read all the same.
