A few years back, I bought a used copy of Dennis Lehane’s novel Shutter Island with the thought that perhaps my husband might like to read it. Well, he never did, and the book sat on his nightstand, forgotten. Forgotten, that is, until I began to see previews for Martin Scorcese’s new film based on the book starring Ben Kingsley and Leonardo DiCaprio. The movie sounded both terrifying and creepy, and since I had enjoyed another film adaptation of a Dennis Lehane novel (2003’s Mystic River), I decided to read the book beforehand. I fought my way through the dust bunnies to find Shutter Island, and one rainy Sunday gave me the opportunity to delve into this book.
Shutter Island begins with a prologue, an excerpt from the journals of a Dr. Lester Sheehan. He makes veiled references to “the island,” the home of the foreboding Ashecliffe Hospital for the Criminally Insane, and some of the people he met there, including Teddy. All very mysterious and Sheehans’ words are already creating that knot in the stomach, the feeling that something very bad has happened, and he’s about to share what that is.
In 1954, U.S. Marshalls Teddy Daniels and his new partner, Chuck Aule, are heading out to Shutter Island on one of the Boston harbor ferries. They’re on the way to investigate the disappearance of a patient, Rachel Solando, seemingly into thin air. The ferry is the only way on or off the island, and the sense of claustrophobic isolation is immediately evident. The men soon discover that the hospital, overseen by the enigmatic Dr. Cawley, operates under its own set of rules, even though they don’t quite know what those are. Suspects and red herrings abound, and Teddy finds himself questioning everything about this investigation.
As you may have gathered, there are many twists and turns in this gripping and suspenseful thriller, and I don’t want to spoil it for anyone by giving too much away. Suffice it to say that when I finished tearing through the book late in the afternoon, I slammed it shut with a satisfied ‘whomp!’ and exclaimed to my nearby husband, “That was one f-ed up book!” (Although I didn’t censor myself then.) I couldn’t wait to see the movie, and just five days later, we were at the theater on opening night, eagerly anticipating the lights going down.
And it was pretty good, no real complaints from me on the faithfulness of the adaptation or the way in which the film was able to recreate the sense of unease and tension that the book did so well. The impact of the movie was lessened a bit for me, since I knew what was happening, but still, it was a riveting and atmospheric film and one I really enjoyed (my husband even more so). But do yourself a favor and read the book first!