This book and I are at war in my brain right now, but I'm pretty sure the 3-star rating is going to stick. After reading, and absolutely adoring, Station Eleven I wanted to give Emily St. John Mandel's work another shot. This seemed promising. A ponzi scheme, a disappearance. A bit thriller, a bit contemporary. The Glass Hotel should have been a bullseye for me.

I mean I'll be honest, I still love Mandel's writing. It ebbs and flows like the sea, and her characters are always fascinating. Vincent's life, despite being one enmeshed in bad choices, was fascinating. I loved the look into the ways that people will lie to themselves to make obviously poor choices seem like something valid. There's a lot of discussion about the evils of money here, and how they can unmake a person. Truly. But this book isn't all about that either. It's just about humans being... well... human.

The biggest disconnect for me was the last third of the book. Which I can't really explain too well without spoiling anything. It felt disjointed, and almost like an afterthought. By the end I wasn't even truly invested in finding out what really happened to Vincent anymore. Although I can't deny the ending was rather okay. So? 3-stars. That's the rating.