Joyce Carol Oates is the mother of unreliable narrators. There's so much I didn't understand, including the timeline. There were references to things that weren't present in 1977, but the narrator insisted upon the date. Vehemently.

But I loved reading it. It was pure JCO and I love her style. The story flowed disjointedly around a woman utterly confused, delusional, and desperate for validation to a tragic, violent end.

I have to think about Babysitter and read more reviews. Honestly, I don't know what to think. ( )

Hannah Jarrett lives a privileged life in an upscale Detroit suburb with her husband, their two small children and a housekeeper. One evening at a charity event that she cochairs, she is touched by a man she hadn't previously known. This begins a bizarre obsession that coincides with a series of murders of children by someone dubbed The Babysitter. This story takes place in the turbulence of the 1970s when there is mistrust between races.

This is a dual story line that eventually merges between the crimes and Hannah's interest in the man she only knows as J,K. There is sexual violence and grooming of Hannah by J.K. When she realizes that she may be endangering the lives of her children, it is too late.

JCO has once again written a riveting story, this time with dire consequences. Hannah is not a likeable character. She is shallow and self-absorbed, but J.K. is purely evil. The plot advances in small indications of what is going to happen. ( )

In the late 1960's/early 1970's, a bored housewife enters into an affair. It doesn't go well. Fabulous writing. My life is never going to be the same. ( )

Disturbing. Engrossing. Thought-provoking. I’ve come to expect these elements when I read a book by Western New York native Joyce Carol Oates. “Babysitter” did not disappoint. I found Oates’ “Zombie” to be a bit more consistently engaging, but that’s likely due to my penchant for shorter, more tautly-written tomes. As numerous reviewers have mentioned, the final pages of “Babysitter” are a bit confusing – but in a thought-provoking way. ( )

No one creates a sense of creepy dread like Joyce Carol Oates. In this latest novel, she leans on her strengths to tell the story of Hannah, the well-groomed wife of a wealthy businessman and mother of two small children in an upscale community north of Detroit during the 1980s. Hannah may be active in the kinds of volunteer opportunities available to well-off women and have a live-in nanny/housekeeper that allows ample free time and she may have a group of friends she meets for lunch, but she's still deeply insecure and lonely. Her marriage to a distracted and reactionary man who is likely sleeping with other women doesn't give her much in the way of support so when a powerful man indicates his interest in her, she finds herself trotting off to meet him in a Detroit hotel.

Which is where this story starts and quickly becomes, well, creepy in the most JCO way. Hannah lacks agency and when she does try to stand up against the men who order her around, she is quickly overwhelmed. There's a serial killer operating in the area as well, one who preys on children; although Hannah would rather not spend time thinking about that, the people around her, especially her husband, are fascinated. Hannah's behavior is frustrating throughout, with her inability to withstand even the slightest pressure. This is a book in which bad things happen, and then continue to happen, where the weak suffer and the powerful prey on those around them.

Joyce Carol Oates may not be breaking new ground with this novel published in her 84th year, but she's still writing novels that are worth reading and she's certainly playing to her strengths with this one. ( )