(SPOLIERS, but I don’t think you can spoil this novel…)
I’m a big fan of Rachel Cusk. Ever since I read a piece on her in The New Yorker a while ago, and I think the article was about the OUTLINE Trilogy, I have found her to be a huge inspiration and a fascinating author. She does a great job in fooling me in believing that we are close friends, and the conversations she shares with me, makes me feel smarter. Like all very talented writers, she’s also part magician – conjuring a relationship with the reader that never really existed, and making us feel that we are the only person she is talking to.
I finished KUDOS, the final novel in the OUTLINE Trilogy last week. All in all, it took me the span of five years to read the three novels. I can understand how a person would argue that this delay in completing the series would be detrimental to my understanding, if not appreciation of the trilogy. Yet, I don’t believe it has. Returning to these books is like visiting an old friend from college. Things pick up right where they left off, no feeling of lost time. And this friend doesn’t try to guilt me for my absence.
If one were to look up reviews for these books, almost all of them will make references to how these books are a new form, even an experimental version, of what an autobiographical novel can be. Some will even compare the books to Karl Ove Knausgaard’s My Struggle series, which might be applicable. I don’t agree with the comparison, as Karl is overtly autobiographical, while Rachel only hints at autobiography, but clearly has kept her protagonist a fictional version of herself. Which lead me to start to believe that all the “new form of a novel” was more marketing hype than actual reality.
Don’t get me wrong. I loved KUDOS, and the other books in the trilogy, OUTLINE and TRANSIT. As I settled in on reading this book, I found the familiar style that Cusk has; this very easy, yet highly intelligent way of writing. She doesn’t speak down to the reader, but it feels that I am being included in the conversations. This time around the author/protagonist is at a writers conference, talking to other writers and people. Again, the persons who occupy this world have no issue, and are very adept at opening up and sharing events, observations and experiences with her. At one point, another writer does point out how odd it is that all the characters in the author/protagonist’s novels have no problem confessing all their sins without much prompting – a sly mete joke Cusk put in her own novel.
It’s true, people do not speak the way Cusk’s characters do. But, Tennessee Williams’ characters speak in a way that can only exist in the worlds that Williams creates, and as such, I believe that Cusk is casting that same spell. It’s not reality, but it is a world I would like to live in. To speak to a person on a plane about the family dog of theirs that just died, or the tour guide who loves to walk the city, or the other women writers that still have to deal with ex-husbands that intend to do them harm, both physically and emotionally. It’s an unburdening that has no expectations to it. The reader isn’t asked to act, or pass judgment, but just hear and witness that these lives exist. It’s an environment that becomes very comfortable, and enjoyable.
And in the end, without a climax or even rising action, the book concludes, leaving the feeling of conclusion. That to me is the trick, and an impressive one at that. I have been given a journey, but I am not sure where I have gone, or what, if anything was accomplished. But I know I went some place, I learned, and that must be what is accomplished. And as I ponder on that, maybe it isn’t a gimmick to call these books a new form of novel. There is a different way to tell a story after all.
Matthew Groff 