Take a story's temperature by studying its tone. Is it hopeful? Cynical? Snarky? Playful?
Tense, Mysterious
By the time we finished reading this book, we didn't have any fingernails left. That's because we were constantly biting them during the full-on, edge-of-our-seat, super-tense scenes that show up time and again in this book. Not sure what we're talking about? Check out what Sig thinks when he sees Wolff at the door:
He pulled off a glove and put a fist of meat against the edge of the door, and Sig knew he could pull it off its hinges if he wanted to. With a twitch of his lip, Sig noticed that the man was missing the thumb of his left hand. (6.11)
Right away, we get a knot in our chest when we read these lines, because we know something bad is about to happen—and that, Shmoopsters, is tension in a nutshell for you. The drama is rising, but we're not sure where exactly it's headed.
Even the first line of this book made us jittery. It opens with a creepy and mysterious line—"Even the dead tell stories" (1.1)—so right out of the gate we're on high alert. We're not sure how or why dead people can talk, but our hearts are racing and our curiosity is officially piqued.
You might be thinking that saying this book has a mysterious tone is pretty obvious on account of how the book is a mystery and all, but tone isn't about what's happening nearly as much as it's about how it's being conveyed. And in Revolver, sometimes we're not even sure what's gone down until much later. Take when Anna first sees Wolff in the cabin:
"Yes," said Anna. The color drained from her face. "Yes, I remember you." (28.19)
She remembers—and the tension is up as the color drains from her face—but we have no clue what she remembers until later on, so this remains a mystery for us as readers. One thing's for certain: In this passage, the tone helps us realize that Wolff is up to no good. We're just gonna have to nibble on our nails until we find out whether Sig and Anna are able to stop him.