The photos Judith Stanley takes are just for her, a private passion to fill her suburban days. But when she shares them with Paul Sorenson, her new photography instructor, she’s unprepared to hear his astonished praise. “Stunning,” he calls her photos. “Extraordinary.” She has an uncanny eye, he says, and should consider publication. He could help. Except Judith has no interest in sharing her work; in fact, the mere idea of it frightens her.
Still, emboldened by Paul’s encouragement, Judith ventures out beyond her quiet neighborhood to the city in search of increasingly striking images. When she starts to notice the dark shape of a man in the corner of her self-portraits, Judith is certain he’s an attacker from her past. She doesn’t know why he has returned, but she’s sure of his presence: the hoarse sound of his breathing, his hard grip on her elbow. Perhaps it would appease the man if she were to put her camera down and give up her private passion. But she can’t; she refuses. Until one night when the man finally emerges from the shadows, and Judith’s story suddenly and irrevocably becomes his own.
Chilling and heart-poundingly propulsive, The Man is a phenomenal and timely novel exploring the inescapable fear of living as a woman, the tantalizing seduction of artistic freedom, and the very real dangers that lurk both inside and outside the confines of the mind. The Man marks Laura Sims as an extraordinary talent at the top of her game; and this, her third novel, is her greatest achievement yet.
This is the first book I’ve read from Laura Sims, and it initially caught my eye because of the striking cover and, even more so, because it’s narrated by two of my go-tos, Will Damron and Cassandra Campbell. This is a slow-burn thriller that reminded me of Nightwatching by Tracy Sierra early on. It has the same reality-versus-perception vibe built around an unreliable narrator FMC. In this case, it’s Judith Stanley, a 1960s housewife taking an amateur photography class who notices the figure of a man in her photos, and there’s lots od creeping dread and mounting paranoia. From the very start, I was wondering whether someone was really watching her or if everything was unfolding in her mind.
This is a dual-POV that’s cleverly structured into two equally long parts. Part 1 follows Judith, who clearly has unresolved trauma. Almost all of her interactions are with her husband (who’s recovering from a stroke) and her photography professor, Paul—so it’s very easy to follow, and most scenes are highly atmospheric. The pacing in Part 1 is quite slow, but I stayed engaged because I enjoyed following Judith on her photography outings in town and in NYC, her discussing photos with Paul after class, and the eerie appearances of the mysterious man, whether as a shadow in photos or suddenly confronting her in public. That said, these scenes began to feel repetitive, and I was happy when the story shifted POV in Part Two and suddenly had much better pacing. It’s told from Paul’s POV, and he’s also an unreliable narrator, but much more morally gray. Without giving anything away, Paul repeatedly makes decisions that you’ll question, but he’s also fascinating to follow because he’s so unpredictable. His inner monologue is filled with dark humor, insecurity, and moments that make him seem unhinged. I also loved that I never knew where this half of the story was headed until close to the end.
With the short chapters, immersive writing, and small cast, you can easily multitask while listening, but I would recommend listening at a slower speed, especially in the 2nd half, so you don’t miss any key dialogue or entertaining unhinged scenes. By the end, you can see the parallel character arcs of Judith and Paul, despite how different they were early on. My only minor complaint is that the story feels like it’s heading toward an explosive climax, but it never really happens until literally the final pages when it feels rushed. The ending cuts off abruptly, leaving it open to interpretation. Personally, I wanted just a little more resolution, but it makes this a great book club or buddy read pick, as there’s lots to discuss! I can also see why the ratings for this book have been a bit all over the place, but I’m definitely a fan of the author’s writing and will be reading more of her books!
Narrator Performance
The Man is narrated by powerhouse narrators Cassandra Campbell and Will Damron. The novel is cleverly divided into 2 equal parts, with Campbell narrating Judith Stanley’s POV and Damron narrating Professor Paul Sorenson’s POV in Part 2.
Right from the start, as you learn that Judith’s beloved dog recently died, her husband is recovering from a stroke, and she’s begun taking a photography class to fill the emptiness in her life, Campbell’s delivery gives listeners an unsettling feeling that something isn’t quite right. Campbell uses a reserved, uncertain, and vulnerable tone to capture Judith. A real highlight is the interactions between Judith and her photography professor, Paul. As Judith shares her photographs after class, you can hear how desperately she craves his approval and feedback. At the same time, when Paul encourages her to publish her work, Campbell does a great job conveying Judith’s hesitation, defensiveness, and eventual frustration. As Judith becomes increasingly convinced that “the man” is following her—whether appearing in the background of her photos or suddenly confronting her—Campbell’s performance becomes noticeably more intense, and I was fully engaged. Judith’s fear and mounting paranoia become tangible and left me questioning whether she’s truly being watched or if everything is in her mind. In the final chapter of Judith’s section, Campbell narrates with such intensity and vulnerability that I found myself becoming emotional while listening. 😭
When the POV suddenly shifts to Paul in Part 2, Damron provides exactly the contrast that’s needed. By this point, I felt the story was becoming a bit repetitive, and Damron’s engaging voice and the improved pacing felt like a breath of fresh air. He portrays Paul with a confident, intelligent, and charismatic voice, but he also gives you the sense that there’s something slightly off about him. In the scenes where Paul attempts to convince Judith’s husband that her photographs deserve to be published, Damron’s delivery makes it clear that Paul’s ambition is taking over. Some of the most entertaining moments of the audiobook were Paul’s inner monologues. Damron uses dynamic expression to convey Paul’s sarcasm, dark humor, and subtle arrogance—and you really get a sense of how morally gray he is and that he’s just as unreliable as Judith, but in a completely different way. As Paul’s success grows and he begins making increasingly questionable and unpredictable decisions, Damron expertly adjusts his performance to make Paul sound bolder and increasingly ruthless.
The final chapters are performed with lots of intensity and suspense, perfectly matching the buildup to the explosive final scenes. Even though the story has an open-to-interpretation ending, Damron’s haunting, convincing delivery makes it linger, and you’ll want to discuss everything afterward—and that’s the sign of a memorable performance for me!
If you’re looking for a highly original slow-burn thriller with unreliable protagonists and two contrasting but equally strong performances that elevate the story, don’t hesitate to pick this one up!
Narrator Performance
The Man is narrated by powerhouse narrators Cassandra Campbell and Will Damron. The novel is cleverly divided into 2 equal parts, with Campbell narrating Judith Stanley’s POV and Damron narrating Professor Paul Sorenson’s POV in Part 2.
Right from the start, as you learn that Judith’s beloved dog recently died, her husband is recovering from a stroke, and she’s begun taking a photography class to fill the emptiness in her life, Campbell’s delivery gives listeners an unsettling feeling that something isn’t quite right. Campbell uses a reserved, uncertain, and vulnerable tone to capture Judith. A real highlight is the interactions between Judith and her photography professor, Paul. As Judith shares her photographs after class, you can hear how desperately she craves his approval and feedback. At the same time, when Paul encourages her to publish her work, Campbell does a great job conveying Judith’s hesitation, defensiveness, and eventual frustration. As Judith becomes increasingly convinced that “the man” is following her—whether appearing in the background of her photos or suddenly confronting her—Campbell’s performance becomes noticeably more intense, and I was fully engaged. Judith’s fear and mounting paranoia become tangible and left me questioning whether she’s truly being watched or if everything is in her mind. In the final chapter of Judith’s section, Campbell narrates with such intensity and vulnerability that I found myself becoming emotional while listening. 😭
When the POV suddenly shifts to Paul in Part 2, Damron provides exactly the contrast that’s needed. By this point, I felt the story was becoming a bit repetitive, and Damron’s engaging voice and the improved pacing felt like a breath of fresh air. He portrays Paul with a confident, intelligent, and charismatic voice, but he also gives you the sense that there’s something slightly off about him. In the scenes where Paul attempts to convince Judith’s husband that her photographs deserve to be published, Damron’s delivery makes it clear that Paul’s ambition is taking over. Some of the most entertaining moments of the audiobook were Paul’s inner monologues. Damron uses dynamic expression to convey Paul’s sarcasm, dark humor, and subtle arrogance—and you really get a sense of how morally gray he is and that he’s just as unreliable as Judith, but in a completely different way. As Paul’s success grows and he begins making increasingly questionable and unpredictable decisions, Damron expertly adjusts his performance to make Paul sound bolder and increasingly ruthless.
The final chapters are performed with lots of intensity and suspense, perfectly matching the buildup to the explosive final scenes. Even though the story has an open-to-interpretation ending, Damron’s haunting, convincing delivery makes it linger, and you’ll want to discuss everything afterward—and that’s the sign of a memorable performance for me!
If you’re looking for a highly original slow-burn thriller with unreliable protagonists and two contrasting but equally strong performances that elevate the story, don’t hesitate to pick this one up!
The Man is narrated by powerhouse narrators Cassandra Campbell and Will Damron. The novel is cleverly divided into 2 equal parts, with Campbell narrating Judith Stanley’s POV and Damron narrating Professor Paul Sorenson’s POV in Part 2.
Right from the start, as you learn that Judith’s beloved dog recently died, her husband is recovering from a stroke, and she’s begun taking a photography class to fill the emptiness in her life, Campbell’s delivery gives listeners an unsettling feeling that something isn’t quite right. Campbell uses a reserved, uncertain, and vulnerable tone to capture Judith. A real highlight is the interactions between Judith and her photography professor, Paul. As Judith shares her photographs after class, you can hear how desperately she craves his approval and feedback. At the same time, when Paul encourages her to publish her work, Campbell does a great job conveying Judith’s hesitation, defensiveness, and eventual frustration. As Judith becomes increasingly convinced that “the man” is following her—whether appearing in the background of her photos or suddenly confronting her—Campbell’s performance becomes noticeably more intense, and I was fully engaged. Judith’s fear and mounting paranoia become tangible and left me questioning whether she’s truly being watched or if everything is in her mind. In the final chapter of Judith’s section, Campbell narrates with such intensity and vulnerability that I found myself becoming emotional while listening. 😭
When the POV suddenly shifts to Paul in Part 2, Damron provides exactly the contrast that’s needed. By this point, I felt the story was becoming a bit repetitive, and Damron’s engaging voice and the improved pacing felt like a breath of fresh air. He portrays Paul with a confident, intelligent, and charismatic voice, but he also gives you the sense that there’s something slightly off about him. In the scenes where Paul attempts to convince Judith’s husband that her photographs deserve to be published, Damron’s delivery makes it clear that Paul’s ambition is taking over. Some of the most entertaining moments of the audiobook were Paul’s inner monologues. Damron uses dynamic expression to convey Paul’s sarcasm, dark humor, and subtle arrogance—and you really get a sense of how morally gray he is and that he’s just as unreliable as Judith, but in a completely different way. As Paul’s success grows and he begins making increasingly questionable and unpredictable decisions, Damron expertly adjusts his performance to make Paul sound bolder and increasingly ruthless.
The final chapters are performed with lots of intensity and suspense, perfectly matching the buildup to the explosive final scenes. Even though the story has an open-to-interpretation ending, Damron’s haunting, convincing delivery makes it linger, and you’ll want to discuss everything afterward—and that’s the sign of a memorable performance for me!
If you’re looking for a highly original slow-burn thriller with unreliable protagonists and two contrasting but equally strong performances that elevate the story, don’t hesitate to pick this one up!
