Compulsively readable story with a sting in its tail
My first thought is that I’m not sure the long blurb does the book any favours – personally, I would have limited it to the first paragraph – as it discloses quite a lot of what happens although, admittedly, not the final climactic reveal. Having said that this is a novel which exudes a pervading air of menace and in which the author skilfully ratchets up the tension bit by bit.
Jeff’s perhaps natural desire to find out more about the man whose life he saved becomes more than mere curiosity but something bordering on obsession. Jeff finds himself drawn closer and closer to Francis Arsenault, an art dealer with a supposed remarkable ‘eye’ for what will sell, a skill that doesn’t seem to extend to recognising the man who saved his life. However, as Jeff discovers, Francis is a master in the art of maintaining a double life (Francis Arsenault isn’t even his real name) and of using others for his own ends. The world of art dealing thus makes the ideal environment for him to inhabit. ‘The only reason Francis is in this business is because it’s the most easily manipulated market in the world, and he’s a master manipulator.’
The book is in essence about consequences as Jeff finds himself carried along by the train of events, events in a way he enabled by saving Francis’s life. As he confides, ‘I wanted him to be good, though, I wanted to feel that I had done a good thing not only for him but for all the people he came in contact with.’ As Jeff’s life becomes more closely intertwined with Francis’s through his relationship with Francis’s daughter, Chloe, he finds his loyalties tested and begins to wonder just what he unleashed when he saved Francis’s life. What if Francis is far from good? Is Jeff then implicated in Francis’s deceit?
But, of course, we only have Jeff’s word for all of this. The narrator begins to wonder about Jeff’s motivation for telling him the story. ‘Was it excavation, though, Jeff getting everything off his chest? Or was he painting for me a kind of self-portrait? And what is a self-portrait if not self-serving?’
Mouth to Mouth is a compulsively readable, deliciously disquieting little novel with a sting in its tail.
Jeff’s perhaps natural desire to find out more about the man whose life he saved becomes more than mere curiosity but something bordering on obsession. Jeff finds himself drawn closer and closer to Francis Arsenault, an art dealer with a supposed remarkable ‘eye’ for what will sell, a skill that doesn’t seem to extend to recognising the man who saved his life. However, as Jeff discovers, Francis is a master in the art of maintaining a double life (Francis Arsenault isn’t even his real name) and of using others for his own ends. The world of art dealing thus makes the ideal environment for him to inhabit. ‘The only reason Francis is in this business is because it’s the most easily manipulated market in the world, and he’s a master manipulator.’
The book is in essence about consequences as Jeff finds himself carried along by the train of events, events in a way he enabled by saving Francis’s life. As he confides, ‘I wanted him to be good, though, I wanted to feel that I had done a good thing not only for him but for all the people he came in contact with.’ As Jeff’s life becomes more closely intertwined with Francis’s through his relationship with Francis’s daughter, Chloe, he finds his loyalties tested and begins to wonder just what he unleashed when he saved Francis’s life. What if Francis is far from good? Is Jeff then implicated in Francis’s deceit?
But, of course, we only have Jeff’s word for all of this. The narrator begins to wonder about Jeff’s motivation for telling him the story. ‘Was it excavation, though, Jeff getting everything off his chest? Or was he painting for me a kind of self-portrait? And what is a self-portrait if not self-serving?’
Mouth to Mouth is a compulsively readable, deliciously disquieting little novel with a sting in its tail.