The Singer’s Gun

payal — Thu, 18 Nov 2010 08:00:00 +0000

Emily St. John Mandel’s book The Singer’s Gun sounds like a paperback thriller, but in a pleasant surprise, delights the reader with a still and quiet prose and a keen eye for the details that uncover the interconnectedness of all our lives. Beautiful images of ancient trees and Mediterranean utopias find a home with New York’s summer heat and the sticky lives of its characters. Mandel serves up superlative moral crises in this well-crafted novel, crises which could stretch the bounds of anyone’s convictions.

The story of an honest con man and illegal girl in New York City, The Singer’s Gun reminds us all that no situation is ever black and white. While both Anton, the illegal passport dealer turned honest desk jockey, and Elena, the Canadian alien struggling with both metaphysical meaning and anemia, have done several questionable things, their stories are so rich and so painfully real that the reader’s loyalties are constantly shifting.

Mandel treats her characters with a kindness, yet an almost parental and bittersweet layering of guilt. While both Anton and Elena have significant others, they find an intimacy together that trumps their steady domestic lives. This intimacy itself is a strained one, for unbeknown to Anton, Elena has been sent with a recorder in her purse to question him after an evening rendez-vous, in order that the U.S. Diplomatic Security Service can get a hold on his past activities. As a recipient of one of his passport/Social Security card packages, Elena is in a compromising place. This is chronically her issue.

Although Anton is the main character, I am more fascinated with Elena. Wispy thin and constantly anemic and hungry from lack of food, it would be easy to paint Elena as a neo-Victorian woman, whose relationship with Anton survives because of her dependence on him. However, I find more subtlety in Elena. Her quiet sensuality and moments of subversion keep her alive, and make her a more complete partner to Anton. She is twice compelled to model for a photographer for money. The second time, she finds that the photographer has taken a route into the territory of pornographic material. Caught, like many young women, in the position of having to participate in order to eat, Elena seems like another victim. However, she takes her experience, along with the mounting stress of her job and affectionless relationship and impulsively makes a brave decision to visit Anton on a small island off the coast of Italy, where (for reasons I won’t divulge) he is now living, risking deportation, debt, and uncertainty. The couple’s journeys across national lines, emotional lines, and ethical lines make one pause and reconsider preconceptions about morality and propriety.

This is Mandel’s second novel. Her first, Last Night in Montreal, received outstanding reviews, and after reading this accomplishment, there is no doubt I will read the first.

Written by: Cristin Colvin, November 18th 2010

Last Night in Montreal

admin — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 23:34:00 +0000

By Emily St. John Mandel

Unbridled Books

Emily St. John Mandel’s premier novel, Last Night in Montreal, is a cocktail of neurotic travel, obsession, and misunderstandings. As a child, Lilia Albert’s father abducted her and crossed the Canadian-American border, taking her away from her mother and half-brother. Once in America, they never live in one city for too long for fear of being caught by the police. Most of Lilia’s childhood takes place in a series of road trips, aliases, and motel rooms. Years later, as a young adult and after being on the road for so long, Lila has no idea how to stay in one place. She lives a suitcase-life and constantly leaves cities, jobs, and lovers behind.

The novel, like memories, goes back and forth between the past and present; although Lilia is the center, we also learn how others have been affected by her life. Her mother appears on Canadian TV outlets, crying over her missing child. The PI on her case, who has little luck confronting his own domestic issues, becomes obsessed with her and loses touch with his own daughter. Her ex-boyfriend Eli doesn’t understand why she abandoned him and instead of sorting his own issues out, chases after her in Montreal. The characters in St. John Mandel’s book are people who don’t understand one another, but more importantly, they don’t understand themselves.

Last Night in Montreal isn’t the most remarkable piece of fiction, but it is still a very good, fast read. The writing is fluid, and the story kept my interest for long enough. With novels today having so many ridiculously melodramatic and hypocritical characters, it was refreshing to read about people that are normal yet dysfunctional, intelligent yet confused—in other words, they’re just like most of us out there.

Written by: Farhana Uddin, April 22nd 2009