Even after a few chapters of Nothing to Lose, I found myself thinking, “Do I like this? Am I going to finish it?” But there’s no denying that Jack Reacher, the main character of Lee Child’s twelfth novel, really grows on you.
Or rather, the idea of Jack Reacher grows on you, because he’s really more of an archetype than a living being. He’s a very American symbol: the taciturn, independent, self-sufficient loner who permits no external interference with his relentless push forward. When he is interfered with, he retaliates methodically and thoroughly. He discovers a problem, passes judgement, and metes out a justified punishment before moving on to his next destination.
In this novel, the problem is a small, desolate town named Despair, owned by a wealthy End Times preacher, and whose main industry is a gigantic metal recycling plant. The plant and the preacher harbour a dangerous secret, which Reacher discovers with the help of Vaughn, a female cop from the neighbouring town of Hope. Reacher is almost mathematical in the way he infiltrates and picks apart the mysteries hidden by the townsfolk of Despair. And in the end, he brings a fierce justice upon certain people whose plans weren’t just going to inconvenience Jack Reacher, but could have disrupted the security of the entire world.
In a book where the main character essentially undergoes no change or visible development, you might interpret it as beingĀ another instance of a thriller or crime novel where the plot is more important than the characters, who are mainly the hooks upon which the plot is hung. Yet in a way, Reacher’s unchanging, adamant character really is the rock upon which everything else stands.
Readers here will know that I tend to prefer books where we really get into the personality and mind of a character (for example, see my previous review of Fault Line by Barry Eisler). There are quirks that suggest that Reacher has a few personal issues that he should get help for, like his need to ceaselessly keep moving forward. Or his reluctance even to entertain the thought of permanent involvement with any person. Or even his habit of simply throwing away his clothes every couple of days and buying new ones, rather than washing what he’s already got.
I would have liked to see readers given more personal knowledge of Reacher, but that is probably just a matter of my own taste. Certainly all those quirks lend themselves to the idea of this character being an archetype of the American Loner. In a way, this book is more of an allegory than a plausible story. Reacher’s very name suggests that. And the town names, Hope and Despair, just add icing to the allegorical cake.
Yet I have known people like Thurman the End Times preacher, Reacher’s adversary in this story. I’ve known fundamentalists (some of them related to me) who were making plans for the End Times that were in the same realm as those that Thurman was making. So if there are really people like that out there, this book makes me hope that there are also people like Jack Reacher, who make it their business to save the world from them.



Super. I love the idea of Reacher as a symbol of America itself. Even more fun when we consider than the guy who writes him is British.
I think we get a little more of the character from book-to-book and that works well but the character regularly slips into superhuman feats of mathematical ability, deduction and, of course, brawling which prevents him from ever feeling completely ‘true’.
Read another one sometime, you know you want to.
Well hi there! Welcome!
You know, I wondered if Lee Child was British! (I hadn’t read his bio, I was in such a hurry to finish the review itself.) I thought so, and then thought, “Nah, he couldn’t be.” Heehee!
I love the brawling calculations Reacher makes, by the way. Sort of like, “Six against one. Hardly fair for the six.” *cackle*
And yes — I do want to read more now. Darnit.
I had the same reaction to my first Jack Reacher. By the time I got done with it, I couldn’t wait for more. Stupid TBR’s keeping me from letting that happen, though…
Hee! That’s exactly how it happened. The book just sort of…GROWS on you, doesn’t it?