Ladies and Gentlemen of the book-review-reading audience, I stand before you clutching my very recently finished copy of Audrey Niffenegger's new novel, Her Fearful Symmetry, and I am worried. The cause of my consternation is this: I desperately want this to be a review of the highest quality, but I fear that I will never be capable of reviewing this book in a manner that appropriately expresses my impressions and feelings. It's almost as if the words that I have access to cannot adequately describe this indescribable novel. As with The Time Traveler's Wife before it, I find that my efforts to sum up this book are woefully insufficient. Saying that The Time Traveler's Wife was a story about a guy who time travels, is the equivalent of saying that Her Fearful Symmetry is a ghost story. True statements, yes, but that's just skimming off the top of a complex, unique, and distinctive story.
Since I will most definitely be concluding this review by recommending that readers go out and get this book to read for themselves, I will avoid any plot spoilers so as to keep the review clean for readers, but that's not an easy task. This novel takes its time laying out the story, opening with the death of Elspeth Noblin, and gradually introducing a circle of characters all connected to Elspeth, and each other, in one way or another. Elspeth's twin nieces, Julia and Valentina (the daughters of Elspeth's twin, Edwina) leave the United States to go live in Elspeth's London apartment as she had offered in her final papers. Even though they never met their aunt, Julia and Valentina make the trip, and the intricacies of the story begin to be laid out as they take residence in Elspeth's former flat.
There is a mysterious feel to the novel almost immediately, as if for every scene that is depicted, there are two untold stories to accompany it that the reader is left to wonder about. For me, reading this book was like being put in a trance-- the outside world slipped away, and I became enmeshed in this heavy fog of a novel. Even as I hungered for more of the story, I held back from devouring it (like I did for my first reading of The Time Traveler's Wife-- I'm not sure that I breathed while I read!), and I tried instead to savor all aspects-- the complexities of the story, the beauty of word choices, and the emotions that rose up as I read. The third person narrative read so originally that, I kid you not, my mind's voice adopted a distinguished British accent to present the text. One particular feature that I thought was significant, was that during many conversations between characters, in addition to the words spoken aloud, were the unspoken words as well. Put on display for the reader in all their italicized, inner-thought beauty, these words often told more than the spoken words had. In effect, this transformed the narrative, at unexpected moments, into a sudden first-person perspective, only to quickly return back.
At the heart of this eccentric story are themes of love and devotion, although not necessarily in the typical romantic and expected ways. Relationships between twins as well as lovers (significant others, for a more conservative phrasing) are put on display in a manner that suggests a wholeness that is present in these pairings, but that wholeness can be seen from different angles, different perspectives. A phrase is used near the end of the novel that seemed incredibly poignant to me in describing one such relationship, which I felt was applicable to the many different pairings of characters-- "The layering, the intertwining."* These words are probably the best ones to use as I struggle to express what appealed to me so greatly about this entire book, because there is definitely a layering and intertwining of characters, plot lines, secrets, mysteries, and connections.
As far as love is addressed, I'm left with one particular idea that was echoed several times in different stages of the story. When asked how it feels to be in love with another, a character (Martin- who, if I was forced to choose a favorite character, would rise to that position) defines it as, "...wanting to be known."* At another point in the novel, the narrator posits, "What is more basic than the need to be known? It is the entirety of intimacy, the elixir of love, this knowing."* I was blown away by the simple truths in these statements. This ultimate theme can be applied to every primary character's experiences in these pages, and I found it to be a lingering thought in my head as I closed the book and returned to my own life.
So yes, at times Her Fearful Symmetry tells an eerie and disturbing story, and at others, readers become swept away by its beauty and deep truths. All in all, it will be remembered as falling into a category all its own, not easily pigeonholed into any one classification or description. Audrey Niffenegger has done it again; she's left me somewhat bewildered, and decidedly enchanted with her creation.
Still letting it all sink in, and wondering how long it will take for a second read,
*Quotes used here are from an Advance Reader's Edition, and may not necessarily reflect the final published release of Her Fearful Symmetry on 9/29/09.