I was disappointed by The Devil in the White City. Larson is a talented writer, and the premise had me hooked, but the book spends so much time on architectural minutiae that the true crime thread never lands the way it promised. The H. H. Holmes sections felt hurried and patched onto a narrative that otherwise moves at a glacial pace. By the time I got to the end I kept wondering why so much of the middle existed at all.

This isn’t to say the research isn’t impressive, or that parts of the book don’t have moments of real craft. It’s just that the balance here leans so hard into background detail that the suspense and horror one expects from the premise get hollowed out. If you want a tight, gripping true crime read, this isn’t it; if you like long, atmospheric dives into period detail, you might find things to appreciate. For me it missed the mark.