RaveNew York Journal of BooksThe case(s) at hand is suitably stymying, but it’s the dynamic between the dichotomous Hawthorne and Horowitz that tethers the novel. While their truce appears tenuous at best, there’s an undeniable chemistry between the two ... There’s a probable backstory here that has yet to be fully revealed and remains a tantalizing thread ... the storytelling is both masterful and masterfully meta. And while this latter element lends itself to charges of shameless self-indulgence, Horowitz never feigns restraint. Rather, he fully embraces the over-the-topness—and that’s a large part of the books’ appeal. The Sentence Is Death, then, may just be one of summer’s grandest, guiltiest pleasures. The questions of who- and whydunit will keep you guessing, but it’s the players themselves—including a congenial-if-bemused Anthony Horowitz—that are ultimately arresting. Pray for solitary confinement, because you’ll want to read this one straight through and uninterrupted.
