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4.5
This was a very fine novel, a tour-de-force of technique and story telling. The "omniscient third party voice" became metaphorically autobiographical. The story became an explanation of how to write a story, or an exploration of the author's thoughts on that topic. Yet, it was never pedantic. It was revelatory in a melancholy, nostalgic way.The story itself was told mostly in flashbacks, so that the reader always had the sense of knowing what was going to happen before it did, just an an author knows where his story is going. The suspense therefore, was always regarding the how, maybe the why, but not the what. In the end notes, Irving states that he always writes from the end backward, getting the last first, and taking potentially years to "find" the beginning. That came across in the book. One could see in retrospect that the book was written that way. And, that was only one of many ways the author wove technique into the story and used the story to reveal technique.But what of the story itself? The author admits in the end notes that it bears some elements of autobiography, but makes it clear that it is autobiographical only in the sense of rehearsing the worst things that might have, but happily did not happen to the author in his journey through life up to this point. It is a compelling, engrossing story, although it took this reader 10-20 percent of the book to become totally wrapped up in it. And, the tone of nostalgia, foreboding and survivor's guilt was always there, but never overwhelming.I would not draw too many broad conclusions about the meaning of life from this book. It was, fundamentally, idiosyncratic, but I will venture one thought in that regard. So are all our lives.
