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A review by doreeny
The Confabulist by Steven Galloway
3.0
Having loved Galloway’s The Cellist of Sarajevo, I so looked forward to his next novel. Unfortunately, I did not find it as emotionally satisfying.
The confabulist is Martin Strauss who in the novel’s opening is diagnosed with a degenerative physiological condition which affects his brain’s ability to store and process memories and so invents new memories. This clearly identified unreliable narrator claims that, “I didn’t just kill Harry Houdini. I killed him twice” (5). Interspersed with Strauss’s tale is a third-person omniscient account of Houdini’s life, though one that seems largely speculative, having Houdini, for example, at the centre of an international spy network.
The novel examines the nature of memory: real versus false memories. At the beginning, Strauss speculates, “How is it we can be so sure that we’ve seen, heard, or experienced what we think we have? In a magic trick, the things you don’t see or think you see have a culmination, because at the end of the trick there’s an effect. Misdirection tampers with reconstruction. But if life works the same way, and I believe it does, then a percentage of our lives is a fiction. There’s no way to know whether anything we have seen or experienced is real or imagined” (52 – 53). At the end, he concludes, “A memory isn’t a finished product, it’s a work in progress. We think that our minds are like a library – the right book is there somewhere if you can find it. A whole story will then unfold with you as the narrator. But our memory changes, evolves, erases. Moments disappear and are replaced and combined” (297 – 298).
Obviously, the novel is also an examination of reality and illusion. From the beginning it is implied that the reader is being tricked in the same way that an audience is tricked at a magic show: “Substance and illusion. Knowing which is which is difficult, maybe impossible” (45). Strauss wonders, “How long have I been seeing things that weren’t there” (53)? His description of killing Houdini is certainly suspect; his name does not match the historical record of the man who may have precipitated Houdini’s death and, if his story is to be believed, he must be well over 100 years old. It is unclear whether the biographical sections about Houdini are to be seen as the product to Strauss’s imagination, though this is what Galloway suggests in the Author’s Note at the end. Of course, Houdini himself was a persona created by Ehrich Weiss: “At times he didn’t know what parts of him were real and what parts of him had been made up in order to become Harry Houdini” (178).
The ending is surely intended to be a surprise, like the effect of a magic trick: “the effect is announced at the start, and you’re watching for it, waiting for it, but then when it happens, you’re still amazed” (49). Unfortunately, I was not amazed. The many similarities between Strauss and Houdini – their pre-occupation with escape, their “simultaneously loving someone and not treating them well” (208) – are the strongest clues to the dénouement.
Reading this novel is like trying to figure out a magic trick: “We know that what we see isn’t as it seems, but we want it to be and want to understand it. We want to be fooled, and then want to know how we were fooled. We cannot prevent our minds from trying to figure out how the trick was done” (48). Unfortunately, figuring out magic tricks does not really interest me. I want to be emotionally engaged and not just completing an intellectual exercise. And I was not emotionally engaged. Part of the novel reads like a stilted biography, the writer of which has not bothered to flesh out the people and significant events in the subject’s life, and the other part is an interior monologue that rehashes the same topics. There are strong themes, but the narrative is weak. The reader is left with the feeling that he/she is being treated like a dupe.
At one point, Strauss discusses the work of a magician: “There must be a moment when a logical outcome is made baffling and wondrous. If he fails to create this moment, then he is a failure as a magician” (46). I would certainly not say that Galloway is a failure as a writer, but he fails to create magic in this novel; there is no wondrous moment.
Please check out my reader's blog (http://schatjesshelves.blogspot.ca/) and follow me on Twitter (@DCYakabuski).
The confabulist is Martin Strauss who in the novel’s opening is diagnosed with a degenerative physiological condition which affects his brain’s ability to store and process memories and so invents new memories. This clearly identified unreliable narrator claims that, “I didn’t just kill Harry Houdini. I killed him twice” (5). Interspersed with Strauss’s tale is a third-person omniscient account of Houdini’s life, though one that seems largely speculative, having Houdini, for example, at the centre of an international spy network.
The novel examines the nature of memory: real versus false memories. At the beginning, Strauss speculates, “How is it we can be so sure that we’ve seen, heard, or experienced what we think we have? In a magic trick, the things you don’t see or think you see have a culmination, because at the end of the trick there’s an effect. Misdirection tampers with reconstruction. But if life works the same way, and I believe it does, then a percentage of our lives is a fiction. There’s no way to know whether anything we have seen or experienced is real or imagined” (52 – 53). At the end, he concludes, “A memory isn’t a finished product, it’s a work in progress. We think that our minds are like a library – the right book is there somewhere if you can find it. A whole story will then unfold with you as the narrator. But our memory changes, evolves, erases. Moments disappear and are replaced and combined” (297 – 298).
Obviously, the novel is also an examination of reality and illusion. From the beginning it is implied that the reader is being tricked in the same way that an audience is tricked at a magic show: “Substance and illusion. Knowing which is which is difficult, maybe impossible” (45). Strauss wonders, “How long have I been seeing things that weren’t there” (53)? His description of killing Houdini is certainly suspect; his name does not match the historical record of the man who may have precipitated Houdini’s death and, if his story is to be believed, he must be well over 100 years old. It is unclear whether the biographical sections about Houdini are to be seen as the product to Strauss’s imagination, though this is what Galloway suggests in the Author’s Note at the end. Of course, Houdini himself was a persona created by Ehrich Weiss: “At times he didn’t know what parts of him were real and what parts of him had been made up in order to become Harry Houdini” (178).
The ending is surely intended to be a surprise, like the effect of a magic trick: “the effect is announced at the start, and you’re watching for it, waiting for it, but then when it happens, you’re still amazed” (49). Unfortunately, I was not amazed. The many similarities between Strauss and Houdini – their pre-occupation with escape, their “simultaneously loving someone and not treating them well” (208) – are the strongest clues to the dénouement.
Reading this novel is like trying to figure out a magic trick: “We know that what we see isn’t as it seems, but we want it to be and want to understand it. We want to be fooled, and then want to know how we were fooled. We cannot prevent our minds from trying to figure out how the trick was done” (48). Unfortunately, figuring out magic tricks does not really interest me. I want to be emotionally engaged and not just completing an intellectual exercise. And I was not emotionally engaged. Part of the novel reads like a stilted biography, the writer of which has not bothered to flesh out the people and significant events in the subject’s life, and the other part is an interior monologue that rehashes the same topics. There are strong themes, but the narrative is weak. The reader is left with the feeling that he/she is being treated like a dupe.
At one point, Strauss discusses the work of a magician: “There must be a moment when a logical outcome is made baffling and wondrous. If he fails to create this moment, then he is a failure as a magician” (46). I would certainly not say that Galloway is a failure as a writer, but he fails to create magic in this novel; there is no wondrous moment.
Please check out my reader's blog (http://schatjesshelves.blogspot.ca/) and follow me on Twitter (@DCYakabuski).