Reserve [Spare]

I’ll admit: I approached *Reserve* skeptical, expecting either a whiny tell-all or a sanitized PR job. What I got was far messier—and far more compelling. Groth’s narration is the secret weapon here. His voice, cool and slightly detached, somehow makes Harry’s most inflammatory claims (the *spare* jokes, the Charles rants) feel less like tantrums and more like the calculated blows of someone who’s been silenced for decades. The audiobook’s pacing is deliberate, almost *uncomfortable* at times—like sitting through an awkward family dinner where someone finally snaps. When Harry describes his mother’s death or his panic attacks, Groth’s voice cracks just enough to sell the pain without veering into melodrama. That said, this isn’t a flawless listen. The middle sags under the weight of military jargon (unless you’re *really* into Apache helicopters) and some repetitive jabs at the press feel like filler. And while the unfiltered honesty is refreshing, there’s a whiff of performative victimhood in how certain conflicts (ahem, William) are framed. Still, the audiobook’s production is impeccable—no distracting edits, just the raw sound of a man unspooling his life in real time. By the end, you won’t agree with all of it, but you’ll *understand* the rage, the grief, and the desperate need to be heard. For royal watchers, it’s dynamite. For everyone else? A fascinating study in privilege, trauma, and the cost of a name.