Reyna is aware that her relationship with Boyd isn’t ideal, but she loves him and is prepared to visit him weekly whilst he is serving a three-month prison sentence for a minor drug-offence. She is a working single-mother and her four-year-old son Oliver adores her new boyfriend. Life is often a struggle, but she wants to be strong, to take control over her life and to create a good future for herself and her son. She has a strong bond with her aunt Kiki, whom she admires and who can always be relied on to offer support. Kiki had spent several years living in Turkey during the 1970s; she had married a local man but when, after eight years, their relationship ended, she returned to settle in New York.
Kiki admires her niece’s spirit but worries that she always seems to pick the wrong type of man. When Boyd is released from prison he initially goes straight but, after a few months, becomes involved with a few friends in a scheme to smuggle cigarettes in bulk from Virginia back to New York, using the different taxation regulations to make a profit. They both know that he is violating his probation and could be returned to prison but, enjoying the benefits the extra money brings, they put these concerns to one side. It is only when Boyd eventually attempts to involve Reyna more directly, by asking her to be the driver on one trip, that she starts to reflect on the implications. Having initially agreed, she then makes the decision, for the sake of her son, to refuse. This apparently simple act of resistance will set in motion a chain of events which will have long-lived ripple-effects, not only on the lives of loved-ones, but also on total strangers.
There are three distinct parts to this novel. The first two chapters are told in the first person by Reyna, providing the reader not only with what is happening currently in her life and the lives of Oliver, Kiki and Boyd, but also with what leads up to the catastrophic event which will change so many lives. There is then a sudden, initially disconcerting, shift to a selection of interrelated stories told in the third-person. These stories at first seem to be travelling a long way from New York and Reyna’s life, with an incidental character in one story becoming a central one in another. However, each of the numerous characters introduced, from different countries and different time-scales, are shown, in one way or another, to intersect with her. By the time the narrative returns to her in the final part of the novel, the reader has a much richer understanding of her and the world she inhabits.
A central premise in this novel is based on chaos theory, the idea that a small, apparently insignificant event or action can trigger ripple-effects which have unforeseen effects, in both the short and the long-term. I loved the way in which the author used her characters to explore that their actions had consequences, that they needed to recognise and take responsibility for their decisions and, by doing so, to live as good and ethical a life as possible. Her perceptive insights convey a deep understanding of both the frailties and the strengths of human beings as they face the various challenges of life. The gentle humour which runs through her writing left me with the impression that she is not only deeply-respectful of people, but also believes in the power of redemption and of love. Throughout the story I felt that she cared about each one of her characters, wanting to show the reader what led them to make the decisions they did and to feel compassion for them as they struggled to do the right thing.
I really enjoyed the part that Kiki’s love of Turkish carpets, and the significance of their intricate design, played in this book. The ways in which Joan Silber skilfully draws together the various “loose threads” in this story felt as intricate and beautiful as the carpets her character so admired. I felt a particular affinity with this because I have two very old Bukhara carpets and, in addition to loving their now rather faded, but still beautiful colours and design, I enjoy reflecting on the lives of the people who created something which, generations later, and on a different continent, remains both beautiful and functional.
I also enjoyed Reyna’s description of her tattoos, how each one represented a significant event in her life – “Some people designed their body art so it all fit together, but I did mine piecemeal, like my life, and it looks fine.” Her attempt to convince her aunt, who saw them as a form of mutilation, that they were really no different to the patterns on the rugs was not successful. Kiki’s response of “Are you a floor?” offers a hint of some of the incisive, but gentle, humour which run through the novel! However, both the rugs and the tattoos carried the theme of design and pattern in life, of how much is planned, how much is random.
This is such a wise, insightful, poignant and beautiful story; it is written with an unhurried elegance and eloquence which is both remarkable and enviable. There is a reference to the fact that a couple of the chapters (the first and the fourth) had appeared previously in magazines. However, because all the sections, chapters and individual stories came together to create a seamless “whole”, I felt no awareness of this when I was reading.
I can’t finish this review without mentioning how much I loved the symbolism incorporated into the dust-jacket design – two sections of a carpet, separated by several loose threads, loose threads which the author wove together so skilfully to create an unforgettable and beautiful story.
I had never come across any of Joan Silber’s books before but will now enthusiastically seek out her backlist. The fact that this novel has received a couple of awards, including the 2018 PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction will, I hope, mean that her name will become known to a much wider readership.