Cling

I’ll be honest: *Cling* wrecked me a little. Not because it’s relentlessly bleak (though it is), but because it *earns* every ounce of its despair. Jeff Menapace’s Sadie is one of the most compelling unreliable narrators I’ve encountered in audio—her perceptions bleed into the listener’s, and Gary Tiedemann’s performance is a masterclass in controlled unraveling. His Sadie sounds like someone two seconds from screaming, her voice thin and frayed, while the supporting cast (especially the chillingly calm handlers of the Martyr program) are delivered with eerie precision. The production is clean, but the real star is the pacing: the audiobook lingers in Sadie’s nightmares just long enough to make you squirm, then yanks you into action sequences that feel desperate, unpolished—*real*. That said, this won’t be for everyone. The nonlinear structure, while thematically apt, can feel disorienting in audio format, and Menapace’s refusal to explain the world’s mechanics upfront might frustrate listeners who prefer their dystopias with clear rules. (I found the ambiguity thrilling, but your mileage may vary.) And while Tiedemann’s performance is stellar, his cadence in the more expository sections occasionally verges on monotone, making some mid-book lore dumps harder to parse. But when it *works*—like in the climactic scenes where Sadie’s visions and reality collide—it’s transcendent. This is a story about the violence of empathy, and the audiobook forces you to *feel* it. If you’ve ever finished a book and needed a stiff drink, *Cling* might be your next victim.