Creation Lake, by Rachel Kushner

"His look was dejected and childish, like I had just taken something that belonged to him, and broken it, and handed it back."

Okay so I don’t know.

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When I first started talking about books with my now partner, I tried to impress her by telling her that Rachel Kushner’s The Flamethrowers was my favorite book of all time. It was more or less true, if not slightly exaggerated. Later I read Mars Hotel and was absolutely blown away. Both books sit firmly in my top 20 favorite books of all time. And so I was so excited for this one.

It started out pretty good. But looking back I think I was already bored even early on. The story is more or less two concurrent plot lines: a mercenary spy infiltrating a commune in France that may or may not be interested in eco-terrorism, and letters from the commune’s mentor that the spy intercepts, letters that talk about ancient man and caves and blah blah blah. The former story was fine, and kept me going at least, but the latter made my eyes glaze over.

I so desperately wanted to love this book. Desperately. Especially after hearing about — but not reading — a review in the London Review of Books that absolutely panned it. But I just couldn’t get there. Just couldn’t. There are highlights, but they just aren’t high enough. And the boredom set in and I couldn’t shake it. Just couldn’t. And then there were moments where I couldn’t help but roll my eyes — including the most hackneyed dig on Donald Trump that I have ever read, I can’t believe her editor let her keep it in there, it was juvenile and stupid, and beneath her and her readers — and those moments sent this book from “well, okay” to “skip this one.”

Read Mars Hotel though. Man, what a book that is!

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I heard about the LRB’s review in New York Magazine’s daily newsletter, here’s the blurb in question, which makes a very good point:

Rachel Kushner’s recent Curbed essay reminded me of why I loved The Flamethrowers and got me excited to read her latest book. Brandon Taylor’s pan in the LRB has not dimmed that enthusiasm, despite the fact that his points seemed reasonable and sometimes LRB pans turn out to be extremely correct. Regardless of whether I love it or hate it, I’m looking forward to having strong feelings about a novel when so many of the more talked-about recent books feel like Adult YA to me. Kushner is unabashedly pretentious and intellectually serious in a way that recalls the great 20th century writers (complimentary).

Which, I don’t know, kind of sums up the whole thing for me. So many “it” books lately — Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow springs to mind — are just, well, fine. Most people like them. They are inherently likable. But that’s where the conversation ends. The LRB is never going to bother reviewing much less panning a novel like, say, The Rabbit Hutch, or the latest Emily St. John Mandel book, because there just isn’t a lot to say about those books. But a book like Creation Lake inspires debate, which is why we’re all here in the first place. If literature was all common denominator likability, we would have stopped reading books ages ago.

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Thanks for reading! Next up: Hurricane Season, by Fernanda Melchor.