I was up way too late finishing a logo redesign for a mezcal brand — the kind of project where you're staring at kerning until your eyes cross — and I had this running in the background because I needed something to keep me company without demanding too much brain space. And honestly? People of the Mist turned out to be the perfect companion for that kind of night. Not because it's forgettable, but because it moves at this steady, almost hypnotic pace that lets you sink into it like a warm bath you didn't know you needed.
H. Rider Haggard wrote this in 1894, and yeah, you can feel every year of that. But here's the thing — I wasn't expecting to catch feelings, and then Leonard Outram lost everything in the first hour. His family estate, his fiancée (who basically ditched him because he went broke), his entire sense of self. And something about that gutted me in a way I wasn't ready for at 1 AM on a Tuesday. Maybe it's because I know what it feels like to rebuild from nothing. Art school dropout energy, you know?
Leonard Outram Deserved Better and I Will Die on This Hill
So Leonard drags himself to Africa to make his fortune back, and he picks up this incredible found family along the way — Otter, his Zulu companion who is genuinely the MVP of this entire book, and Juanna Rodd, a Portuguese woman he rescues from slavery with her nursemaid Soa. The romance between Leonard and Juanna is... look, it's Victorian romance. They bicker constantly, they're clearly into each other, but neither will just SAY IT. That slow-burn frustration reminded me of reading Jane Eyre — another story where two people orbit each other's feelings for so long you want to reach through the pages and knock their heads together. And Soa is hovering over them like Abuela used to hover when any boy came within ten feet of me at quinceañeras. Jealous, protective, watchful. I felt that in my bones.
The problem is the pacing. At sixteen and a half hours, this book absolutely earns the complaint that it "goes on forever." There are stretches in the middle — the journey to find the People of the Mist — where I genuinely wondered if Haggard was getting paid by the word (he probably was, actually). The world-building of the lost civilization is wild though. A giant crocodile god? A power struggle between the king and the priesthood? The political intrigue gave telenovela energy and I am not even a little bit sorry for that comparison. Bourbon Kings scratches that same itch — dynastic power struggles wrapped around a forbidden romance, except swap the lost civilization for Kentucky horse country and the crocodile god for old family money doing its own kind of devouring. The drama, the jealousy, the forbidden romance, the literal human sacrifice — Abuela would have been on the edge of her recliner for every page of it.
Richard Kilmer at 1 AM Hits Different
Richard Kilmer's narration is interesting because it's not showy. It's precise. Melodic. One listener literally said it was "great for getting off to sleep" and I laughed because — yeah, that tracks. But I don't mean that as shade. His delivery has this steady, almost lullaby quality that works for a Victorian adventure novel. You're not getting dramatic vocal shifts between characters — Otter and Leonard and Soa kind of blend together vocally — but the rhythm of his reading carries the prose in a way that feels intentional. Like he's reading to you specifically, by a fire, in no particular rush.
That said, I wish there was more texture in how he handled the emotional moments. When Leonard realizes the depth of what he's lost, when Juanna is in real danger — I wanted the narration to crack open a little. Give me a tremor, a pause, something. Kilmer stays controlled, and while that's a stylistic choice I can respect, it kept me at arm's length from the feelings I was chasing. I'm a 1.0x listener who wants to be WRECKED, and this narration gently held me at "mildly moved."
That Toboggan Scene Though
I have to talk about the climax because — a toboggan escape down a glacier on a flat stone?? In 1894 adventure fiction?? This is unhinged in the best way. After hours of slow political maneuvering inside this lost civilization, Haggard just goes full action movie and it genuinely woke me up. I sat up straight, Diego jumped off my lap (rude), and I was fully locked in. It doesn't totally make up for the saggy middle sections, but it sticks the landing in a way that a lot of these older adventure novels don't. The ending doesn't just cut off — it actually resolves, which apparently is noteworthy enough that listeners specifically praise it. (The bar is in hell for classic fiction audiobooks, apparently.)
Who This Book Wants to Find
If you love old-school adventure with a romance subplot that burns slower than a candle in a cathedral, this is your book. If you need tight pacing and vocal fireworks from your narrator, you'll probably check out around hour eight. This is a book you let wash over you while your hands are busy with something else. I didn't ugly-cry (the Victorian emotional restraint kept that from happening), but I felt a quiet ache for Leonard that stayed with me. Sometimes that's enough.
Frida sat on my keyboard through the last three hours, which I'm choosing to interpret as her endorsement.
