The Guest List by Lucy Foley
Guests assemble on an island off the coast of Ireland to celebrate the union of two persons. The bridegroom is a pleasant and attractive aspiring television personality. The bride is a magazine publisher who is brilliant and ambitious. It has all the makings of a wedding for a star or a wedding for a magazine: a designer gown, a distant venue, opulent party favours, and boutique whiskey. Even though there may not be consistent cell coverage and the waves may be strong, every aspect has been carefully prepared and will be carried out.
The Guest List by Lucy Foley
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However, plans call for perfection, and humans are all too human. As the champagne is cracked and the celebrations get underway, resentments and small-scale jealousies mix with the memories and good wishes. The drinking game from the groomsmen’s school days gets started. Unintentionally, the bridesmaid ruins her outfit. The oldest male friend of the bride makes an uncomfortable caring toast. Then a body is discovered. Who didn’t wish the happy couple all the best? And possibly even more crucial, why?
It seems to be a small island off the coast of Ireland that is widely recognized for its warm waters and pleasant weather. The island is made up mostly of a continuous peat bog, which is better described as a quicksand-like situation where you can instantly sink to your death, and the rest is made up of treacherous precipitous cliffs and rocks. The island owner and event organizer evidently did not consider the possibility that safety barriers would be useful to prevent visitors from being sucked into the swamp. Of course, it felt completely fine that individuals at a party, in an unfamiliar place, may die by moving from one building to the next due to a MASSIVE unforeseen and largely invisible hazard.
As awful as this location sounded, it appeared like at least two of the guests would rather spend the evening in a partially subterranean cave that was vulnerable to floods, was too dark to see the rear, was full of strange noises, was damp, and had no apparent residents.
Then, there was this strange disconnect where it appeared that the author had forgotten that she had stated that only a small number would be spending the night in the Folly, but then there were hundreds of visitors arriving for the day, events blending into the evening and night, and they had no way to leave the island! Where did everyone go? Was there a bridge she failed to disclose, or was there a covert submarine evacuation planned?
