“A good book, Marcus, is judged not by its last words but by the cumulative effect of all the words that have preceded them. About half a second after finishing your book, after reading the very last word, the reader should be overwhelmed by a particular feeling. For a moment he should think only of what he has just read; he should look at the cover and smile a little sadly because he is already missing all the characters. A good book, Marcus, is a book you are sorry to have finished.”
These are words from Harry Quebert to his protege, student and friend Marcus, who is himself a writer, presently suffering from a severe case of writer's block after a successful first book. And both of them are together after years, because Harry has been accused of murdering a young girl - his 15-year old lover - and Marcus is certain that's not true.
And this is certainly a book I let go of with some regret, after gulping it down after a continuous stretch of hours and hours of reading. Neat, complex in it's time-wrapping technique, confounding in it's numerous false leads, and with corruption beneath it's dermis, this is a novel you can't put down.
Rare is a book which could stand authentically, and simultaneously, as a treatise on writing, a story of forbidden love, an essay on ambition, a commentary on the circus that the publishing industry has become, and a critique of social ambition - but is actually a thriller!
Embedded in the racy story is the tale of 'us'- the desire for love, recognition, fulfilment. And the boundaries we are ready to push to get what we want. The ageless question of what is right and what is wrong comes to haunt the destinies of it's protagonists: the conclusions are as uncertain as life itself.
But it is clear that the only test possible is the answer inside us - is our wrong for a right reason? What is the harm caused? Is there innocence behind our most grievous sin? Or are the answers to the most important questions life brings us fraught with cynicism? And the principal question - can you be corrupt on one side of the soul, and not the other?
Life's lessons never cease. And the learnings it can share, paradoxically, grow richer, the deeper man slips into the abyss of his soul. And though love is often the reason, it is not always a satisfactory answer.
As Marcus delves deeper into the mystery of the murder, he also encounters the devils of love and belief. As Harry tells him "The truth does not change how you feel about someone. That’s the great tragedy of love.” The depth of this assertion also becomes Marcus' test of his love for Harry.
Deceptively pellucid (with the love story spanning out in a gush which even a Mills & Boon editor would frown upon), it will be easy to lose the sublimity beneath the physicality of this excellent book. But as the layers of this onion peel, and the horror of it's rotten core are revealed, we cannot help but reflect how this drama could well be an allegory for the relentless pursuits of our lives - and the values we are ready to let fall on the wayside, to find 'success', however singular or plural our definition of that be.
And that is more frightening to think of, than the denouement of this book.
An aside:
The book, a 600-pager, has been translated from its French original into 32 languages, and is considered to be one of the biggest original acquisitions for it's English rights, in the history of Penguin Books, and has become a worldwide bestseller. Hopefully that should not put you off reading it!!
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