“This psychological tone poem is a barbed and splendid meditation on peril.” intimacies
INTIMACIES
Kitamura, Katie Riverhead (240 pp.) $26.00 | Jul. 20, 2021 978-0-399-57616-4
y o u n g a d u lt
A watchful, reticent woman sees peril and tries not to vanish. “Every certainty can give way without notice,” thinks the narrator of Kitamura’s stunning novel, a statement both true and freighted. It’s a delight to accompany the narrator’s astute observational intelligence through these pages, as it was in A Separation (2017), which also unspooled completely in the mind of its speaker. Both slim books are pared down, without chapter headings or quotation marks. A murder unsettles A Separation; a mugging destabilizes this new book. Its narrator is a temporary translator at the International Court of Justice in The Hague, where an unidentified head of state is on trial for atrocities in the months before the Brexit vote. The accused specifically requests the narrator to translate for him in a claustrophobic meeting with his defense team: “cross-border raid, mass grave, armed youth.” She hears and doesn’t hear the words amid her focus, just as she sees and doesn’t completely register events in her everyday life. “It is surprisingly easy to forget what you have witnessed,” she thinks, “the horrifying image or the voice speaking the unspeakable, in order to exist in the world we must and we do forget, we live in a state of I know but I do not know.” This is the crux of Kitamura’s preoccupation. She threads it brilliantly through the intimacies her character is trying to navigate: with new colleagues, women friends, and her beau, who goes away; with the work and with the nature of The Hague itself. Landscape holds a key, and on the final pages, the narrator intuits it might release her from some of the dread suffocating her. The novel packs a controlled but considerable wallop, all the more pleasurable for its nuance. This psychological tone poem is a barbed and splendid meditation on peril.
transporting Cassidy Carter, the tempestuous former child actor–turned–B-lister that is starring in the film. Patrick is increasingly alarmed by the things he witnesses: Wildfires flare constantly; everyone drinks a luxe synthetic product called WAT-R that is “the same as water, just a little bit more so.” And there is a mysterious “dementia” that is afflicting people seemingly at random, regardless of age. As the surrealism of the film-set experiences blend with the nightmarishness of LA, Patrick is also coming unglued by developments at home: His emotionally fragile wife and their 9-year-old daughter are staying at an upstate New York commune, where they participate in group mourning rituals as a kind of ecological grief work. It isn’t long before everything in Patrick’s life feels like it’s spiraling toward disaster. Kleeman’s novel is idea-driven, a critique of the artifice of consumerism and Hollywood culture in which that artifice is heightened on each page, from characters talking in polished soliloquies to the ominous ubiquity of WAT-R bottles in everyone’s hands. Everything in this world is deliberately just a little bit off, like the slight telltale warp of a Photoshopped selfie. While some readers might find the
SOMETHING NEW UNDER THE SUN
Kleeman, Alexandra Hogarth/Crown (368 pp.) $28.00 | Aug. 3, 2021 978-1-984826-30-5 An East Coast writer oversees the adaptation of his novel to film in a hellish version of Los Angeles. Patrick Hamlin arrives in Hollywood to assume a vague role on the set of the movie version of his latest novel. But everything about the process is befuddling—the movie script barely resembles his story, and his role is relegated to listening to the semiphilosophical ramblings of the production assistants and |
kirkus.com
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fiction
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15 june 2021
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19
