In her second (standalone) psychological crime thriller, LEFT BEHIND (Ultimo Press 2025), Martine Kropkowski continues the unique style of form that set apart her first novel – the ability to create, develop and sustain the simmering, menacing and haunting possibility of violence throughout the entire story without much of it tainting the pages.
The frightening and sinister edge to LEFT BEHIND is ever present, but always just out of reach. While there are certainly creepy incidents and suspect individuals in the narrative, Kropkowski manages to exaggerate a complex and terrifying ‘what if’ in the minds of her readers entirely through hint and suggestion. This absence of gore or naked violence in the text leaves our imaginations to shuffle through various horrific scenarios, each one worse than the one before – she invites the reader to create our own thrilling narrative, filled with existential dread. And because of the realistic and plausible scaffolding she puts in place throughout, anything we visualise is more nightmarish than if she had specified the details.
LEFT BEHIND is a deceptively simple story on the surface. Four friends embark on a camping trip to K’gari, a beautiful island off the coast of Queensland, with white sands and clear beaches, a popular spot for tourists and locals. Slightly weird and vaguely troubling events begin to coalesce – wild animals exhibit strange behaviours, a major storm front threatens the serenity, and various characters seem just a little off. The book opens with the discovery that two campers have gone missing, their campsite and belongings left discarded near the beach, and while this could initially be interpreted as hapless misadventure, the scenario becomes more strange and concerning as the narrative develops.
One of the author’s major strengths is her atmospheric and evocative depiction of place. K’gari is pleasantly present in the readers’ minds – the geography, the weather, the roads and infrastructures, the camping sites, the mountains, the sea and the shifting sands. Most prominent is the native flora and fauna – birds, sea creatures and the local native dingoes (mystical but dangerous). The island belongs to these creatures. Humans are the intruders. This message is delivered with quiet intensity throughout.
Another strength of her writing is her depiction of close personal relationships, in this case two couples – one committed and long-term, but with an intriguing secret dangling over their heads, and one newly minted and cautious, still navigating the boundaries of intimacy and togetherness. The very real conundrums and issues faced by these couples lends an air of uncertainty to their bonds; we know ‘something’ is going on but are not sure what until near the end of the book.
The story is fast paced despite being a rather quiet narrative. Days spent swimming and sightseeing, the monotony and simple drudgery of camp life with its adherence to the bare necessities of cooking, washing, cleaning and attending to all without the benefit of modern amenities. Yet in the midst of this apparently banal and serene routine, Kropkowski introduces odd happenings, frightening and inexplicable incidents, strange behaviour, possible misunderstandings or misinterpretations, all of which gradually begin to add up to the undeniable fact that something is not quite right with the island, its inhabitants, and this group of four.
I would absolutely love to discuss this book in a bookclub, because the ending is so strange, so ambiguous, so open to interpretation, that I know it will prompt numerous rigorous discussions about what actually happened and why. As with her first book, there could be slight tinge of magical realism about the resolution, or it could be entirely factual and authentic. It is up to the reader to decide.
Beautiful and well-crafted writing, lush descriptions, authentic dialogue, complex characters and a tantalising ‘just out of reach’ feeling of mystery will leave this story lingering in readers’ minds long after the last page.