When reading a book — any book (or by that means any printed matter) — I am by nature someone who devours the inner and outer flap, the blurbs, and the author bio fifteen times, sometimes interrupting a chapter to flip back and see if the author really has three kids and dedicated the book to her pet guinea pig. It’s a tic and a horrible habit which not only yanks me out of the story, it pulls me towards opinions that have nothing to do with my experience with the book (ie. “Oh right, The NYT loved it” or “Ooh, so the back says the protagonist is going to get lost…” or “I wonder if she and her Brooklyn-living family live in a brownstone or one of those converted lofts”).
One of the many vague floating reading resolutions I made this year was to do my best to knock it off. Read the damn book. My test case was the contemporary novel, Leave the World Behind, by Rumaan Alam. I didn’t read the reviews; my husband read it but I forbade him to utter a syllable until I was finished, I removed and hid the dust jacket. I even switched off a radio interview before the introductions were completed.
And I’m so glad I did because the whole thing was a huge surprise. When (white) Amanda and Clay and their kids are interrupted on their Long Island vacation home on the second night by the (Black) owners of the rental house, I did not know what was in store. Would there be a fight? Would the police be involved? Would the Proud Boys show up? What sort of book was this? In order not to ruin someone else’s experience, I am not going to answer that. I will say that it hooked me. The writing is vivid and skillful and I’m always game for poking fun at Brooklynites.
There were several things I didn’t like about the book. Primarily, I didn’t care about the characters…not because they were smug and consumerist, since smug and consumerist people are people too, or that I didn’t like them, since I’m a sucker for an unlikeable character, but that they were flat. I didn’t understand what made them operate. And because the plot was so compelling, I didn’t care. I noticed, but it wasn’t until I was done and could think about the whole package that it bothered me.
In retrospect, is that a good thing? Will I become a slave to plot and ignore other important ingredients of a story? Maybe, but there is also the idea that it’s more fair to the author, giving the story a chance to have its say before the greek chorus kicks in.
Kate Staples 