I read this last October, I think, when I sat down one Friday with a cup of tea expecting to just look at a couple of pages and then get on with my life and ended up not moving until I had finished the book. It was mesmerising.
The story is told from the point of view of 5 year old Jack who, with his mother, is imprisoned in an 11 foot square room by a kidnapper. It has heavy overtones of Natascha Kampusch and the Fritzel case in as much as you read it knowing that the truth can be even weirder and, in the wrong hands, it could have been sensationalist, adventure-led and plot driven. But the book is told by Jack, in the words and understanding of a 5 year old and it has a naive innocence that stops any reader feeling macabre or voyeuristic. His time in and out of the room is so beautifully told that I found myself crying several times. The moment when Jack meets a breeze for the first time is absolutely heart-rending.
I was hoping that it would win the Man Booker prize, but it didn't. It would have been lovely to say that I'd read another Booker prize winner.