HEARD IT THROUGH THE GRIPE-VINE: OUR NEW ABNORMAL
When I started writing this column, Trust by Hernan Diaz was on the 2022 Booker Prize Longlist, and I had begun reading this fascinating, Rashomon-effect novel. The Booker is considered one of the most prestigious literary awards handed out in this day and age. Born in Argentina, raised in Sweden and now living in the United States, Diaz is highly regarded in literary circles, previously a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize and the PEN Faulkner Award.
The book’s structure is what intrigued me. It’s four distinct narratives: one is a popular “roman a clef” novel set in the 1920’s, as authored by Harold Vanner, purportedly chronicling the lives of Benjamin and Helen Rask — Benjamin is a Gatsby-type figure, immensely rich, and credited with foreseeing the 1929 Crash, and profiting from it. Then there’s the manuscript of Andrew Bevel, who would seem to be the real-life person that Benjamin Rask was based on. The third narrative is authored by Ide Partenza, the ghostwriter that Andrew employed, as he wanted to set forth his own account, and “set the record straight” — and proceeds to write about himself as a patriot, and paint a rosy picture of his marriage. The last section of Trust is written by Mildred Bevel, the wife of Andrew, and consists of musings and fragments written before her untimely death, and about how she never really got along with her husband.
As such, the novel is a fascinating study of how finance and fiction can be seen as two sides of the same coin. And just as importantly, there’s the theme of the elusive nature of truth, and the question of who or what do you trust? As we sift through the four narratives, we’re confounded by how the same facts can be written about in a different light, depending on who is doing the writing. The novel goes beyond the concept of the unreliable narrator, and pushes us to question the notion of objectivity of facts, and the meaning of truth.
THE BOOKER-LONGLISTED novel Trust by Hernan Diaz, and how a tale set in the 1920’s could very well be about today.
In this world of social media, the democratization of content creation, fake news, and historical revisionism, the novel becomes a microcosm of what we’re experiencing today – and a reflection of this often-confusing world. In the novel, a case in point would be how in the first narrative, we read about Helen Rask being a patron of New York cultural circles, including how writers would flock to her. Then Bevel has passages that describe wonderful nights together with Mildred, when she would vividly talk about and recount in detail books she had read, and they’d even forget to eat their dinner. Partenza writes about how she would spend evenings doing the same with her Italian anarchist father — and we’re left wondering if Bevel “stole” his reminiscences about he and Mildred from Partenza’s life. As we read through the Mildred account, we even begin to suspect that she may have been Vanner.
It’s like falling down a rabbit hole or entering a hall of mirrors, and realizing that even truth is an elusive concept. I liken it to the X-Files tagline, but with an addendum: The truth is out there… it just may be harder to find. And I mention all this in the light of how there’s been so much fear from certain quarters on how the process of historical revisionism has begun in earnest with the advent of the new administration. Something as basic as films that came out recently would seem to support this trepidation, making people wonder when it will end, and to what extent will it occur.
In the case of Diaz’ novel, there are no ready answers or solutions. In dramatic prose form, he’s essentially giving us a head’s up that this is the way it is today – whether we like it or not. We can be vigilant, set personal litmus tests of credibility, confirmation, and objective truth; but we’re still dependent on the information and data we’ve gathered, and at the best, we come to realize that even such information and data can already be “loaded.” As it’s often said, History is written by the victors, and the ones who rule.
Diaz’ novel succinctly demonstrates how even in the case of one life, dueling versions may exist.
When the Booker shortlist was announced from London on Sept. 6, Trust was left out of the list of six novels written in English that now stand to gain the much-coveted distinction this year. Among the shortlisted, I do have The Trees by Percival Everett in my stack of to-read books; so I’m looking forward to picking it up and discovering why it’s on the shortlist. But Trust will always be one of the more satisfying reads I’ve had this year, and I admired the creativity behind how the overlying message was being imparted.