REPRINT OF A REVIEW POSTED IN 2011. I will be posting a review of Helen DeWitt’s new collection of stories, Some Trick, within the week.
Note: This novel was SHORTLISTED for the IMPAC Dublin Award of 2002.
“I got home and I thought I should stop leading so aimless an existence. It is harder than you might think to stop leading an existence, & if you can’t do that the only thing you can do is try to introduce an element of purposefulness….and though I might have to wait another 30 or 40 years for my body to join the non-sentient things in the world, at least in the meantime it would be a less absolutely senseless sentience.”–Sybilla
Author Helen DeWitt expresses her admiration, at one point, for “the type of person who thinks boredom a fate worse than death.” And she obviously writes for this type of reader as she performs amazing literary and scholarly acrobatics in this unique and energetic novel which never flags–and certainly never bores! No one will ever accuse her of the “senseless sentience,” she rejects in the lead quotation.
Main character Sybilla is the hard-working, single mother of Ludo, a 6-year-old genius who gobbles up even the most complicated subjects, seemingly overnight, and DeWitt incorporates many esoteric subjects here – Japanese language, Greek verbs, Icelandic verse, Fourier’s analysis, Arabic, astrophysics, and tournament chess, bridge, and piquet, among other things – as she describes their intellectual daily life together. Despite Sybilla’s arcane subjects and complex ideas, DeWitt manages to write so entertainingly about them that they enhance, rather than obscure, the human story at the heart of the novel, even for readers like me with little interest in many of these subjects.
Though Ludo is obviously extremely precocious, he is nevertheless a completely engaging and in many ways “typical” little boy, and the relationship between mother and son is mutually warm and endearingly protective. Both Sybilla and Ludo are fans of Akira Kurosawa’s The Seven Samurai, which Ludo knows by heart and searches in an effort to find the model for his absent father. This film (completely unrelated to the Tom Cruise film of a similar title) eventually forms the framework of the novel when Ludo decides to test seven fascinating and brilliant men whom Sybilla has known to see which, if any, of them might be his unknown father. His tests are ingenious and great fun to follow.
The resulting story has everything. It is funny and sad and disarming and challenging – simultaneously amusing and poignant, and thought-provoking. The many layers which emerge as Ludo engages in his quest should keep readers, critics, and book clubs intrigued and entertained for years. But the book is at heart an absorbing human story–of identity, of aspirations and achievement, and, ultimately, of the love and connection which makes our personal journeys worthwhile. A wonder-filled novel from beginning to totally satisfying end.
ALSO by Helen DeWitt, a new collection of short stories, SOME TRICK
“When he thought of his life on the farm, he would always think of those quiet times in the barn; the old man, neck craned, studying it as though seeing it for the first time every time. It seemed to him then that the old man had wanted to pull it deep into himself and he liked to think he had. So he carried the urn into the tack room and cleared a spot on the shelf where bits and bridles and hackamores hung. He set it there….until he could figure out the proper place to scatter the ashes.” – from the Prologue.
When author Richard Wagamese died on March 10, 2017, Canada lost one of its most articulate and best loved authors. He left behind this nearly finished novel, Starlight. Anyone who has read Wagamese’s other novels will immediately recognize this novel as a grand summing up of the author’s deeply felt relationship with the earth, the animal world, and with all of Nature, and will rejoice with him in the sense of peace and confidence he has found and shared throughout this novel. The end of Wagamese’s life was far different from his beginning. Born an Ojibwe Indian, he and his three siblings were abandoned before he reached the age of three, and his several foster families were often abusive. According to Susan Walker in her essay “Stories that Heal,” in the Literary Review of Canada (March 29, 1017), young Richard ran away for good at age sixteen, lived on the street, abused drugs and alcohol, spent time in jail, and was finally rescued by an older brother when he was twenty-five.
Wagamese is quoted in that same essay by Walker as saying, “I did not speak my first Ojibwa word or set foot on my traditional territory until I was twenty-six. I did not know that I had a family, a history, a culture, a source for spirituality, a cosmology, or a traditional way of living. I had no awareness that I belonged somewhere.” It was his connecting with the past through elders from his tribe that he began to discover a sense of “belonging.” He eventually became a journalist and Native Affairs columnist in Calgary, and later turned to fiction, always working on subjects which allowed him to explore his Native American heritage.
Frank Starlight specializes in photographing wolves.
This novel will thrill those who have enjoyed Wagamese’s past novels, even though it is unfinished. Here he dramatically recreates and shares the breath-taking, almost magical, moments in which he becomes one with nature in its grandest sense, and as he teaches a young, abused woman and her child how to feel the pulse of the world and to find peace, he becomes real in ways I have not seen in his previous novels. He becomes a teacher here, sharing what he has learned in his lifetime, without becoming preachy or sentimental, and I found the book’s lack of completion an ironic benefit: He is so good at conveying the essence of what he has learned in his lifetime that the story itself becomes a simple vehicle, rather than an end in itself. For those who prefer an obvious resolution to the narrative, in addition to the clear resolutions to the themes, the publisher has provided “A Note on the Ending,” in which the pre-planned resolution to the narrative is described in general terms, along with an essay by Wagamese entitled, “Finding Father,” which provides parallels between his own life and the ending planned for this book.
As Emmy becomes more attuned with nature, Frank challenges her to touch a wild deer. (Still photo from a YouTube video.)
The action begins in 1980, with a young woman named Emmy skulking in the dark toward a cabin in which she has lived with Jeff Cadotte, a violent and abusive man who is often drunk, and his work partner, the enormous Anderson. Emmy and her six-year-old child Winnie plan to sneak into the house, take their belongings and a bit of food, steal the keys to Cadotte’s truck, and take off while he and Anderson are drunk and unconscious. Unfortunately, Cadottte awakens, and violence results. Though Emmy and Winnie eventually escape in the truck, they are on their own with no money, dependent on siphoning gas for the truck and on breaking into houses for food. She cares, however, feels guilty and embarrassed to do what she is doing to survive, and at one points leaves a thank you note to the woman whose house she has robbed of food and a chocolate cake. While she is escaping into rural territory where she thinks she will not be found, she and Winnie are arrested for stealing at a supermarket. It is only the kindness of Frank Starlight, who happens to be present in the store, that she escapes. He offers her a job as his housekeeper and satisfies the store owner, and eventually the social worker, that he will be responsible for seeing that Winnie go to school and Emmy work to repay what she owes.
On a trip to Vancouver, Frank and the group see a herd of wild horses.
Frank Starlight is a photographer of Native American descent, with an uncanny ability to capture images of wild animals, especially wolves, and he is well known among patrons of a gallery in Vancouver for his work. Emmy becomes the perfect housekeeper and cook on his farm, thrilled that he is willing to buy new appliances for his house and for her and Winnie. His friend Roth, a former employee who lives on the premises, is also delighted to have Emmy, and especially little Winnie, in his life, and Winnie, in turn, grows to love him as a father. All four agree that this is the closest any of them have ever felt to having a real home. Camping trips on weekends show Emmy and Winnie learning to ride horses, explore nature, catch fish, find mushrooms, survive on their own, become physically fit, and come to some awareness, for the first time, that personal peace can be achieved by communing with nature. Emmy eventually recognizes that Frank has not just taught her about the land, however. “You were teaching me to listen to myself,” she says, and he admits he was. When he challenges her to use all her newly acquired talents to touch a deer, she accepts the challenge. He later comments,“You touch a deer, you gallop a horse. There’s no room in there for hurt or anger. That’s where you learn and live when you come to the land.”
The group crosses into Vancouver via the Lion’s Gate Suspension Bridge on their way to an art show featuring some of Frank’s photographs.
Alternations in the narrative reveal how Cadotte and Anderson have been trying to find and exact revenge on Emmy for her past actions – before Starlight – and their plans finally come near to fruition, but not resolution, near the end of the narrative, an eventuality which the editor and publisher address directly in their notes at the end. Though parts of the novel feel a bit artificial, the novel, overall, is one that I found totally involving, moving, and emotionally satisfying, despite minor quibbles that probably would have been corrected in final editing. This was a novel which pulled together many of the themes which Wagamese has been developing and expanding for his whole career, and I found it, unfinished as it may be, to be his crowning glory.
Patting a wild deer, a challenge Frank gives to Emmy, is featured on this YouTube video, from which this still photo is taken. https://www.youtube.com/
A herd of wild horses becomes a part of the group’s trip to Vancouver for an art show featuring some of Frank Starlight’s photographs. http://artofliving.summitlodge.com
The group crosses into Vancouver via the Lion’s Gate Suspension Bridge on their way to an art show featuring some of Frank’s photographs. https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca
Note: Zhou Haohui is regarded as one of the top three suspense authors in China today, and The Death Notice Trilogy is China’s best selling and most popular work of suspense fiction to date. The online series based on these novels has received more than 2.4 billion views and achieved almost legendary status among Chinese online dramas.—Penguin Random House
“Won’t you join me, my old friend? I know you’ve been looking forward to this for far too long. I can see you reading this letter. You’re trembling with excitement, aren’t you? Your blood burns and an unstoppable pressure is building up inside you. I feel it, too. I smell your eagerness. Your anger. Even your fear. Hurry. I’m waiting.” – Eumenides to victim.
In this complex mystery, Chinese author Zhou Haohui creates main characters who are so surprisingly human that their behavior crosses the usual political, geographical, and cultural boundaries which often limit mysteries from other nations. Exploring crimes which are among the worst and most vicious behaviors of which man is capable, the author describes two impeccably planned murder sprees attributed to the same criminal mind – that of Eumenides – a name chosen to recall the Furies, the gods of vengeance in Greek mythology. Eumenides committed his first murders on April 18, 1984, crimes which resulted in several grotesque deaths. The Chengdu Criminal Police established the 4/18 Task Force at that time to try to deal with these crimes on several levels and within several different police departments, but the crimes stopped before the police concluded their investigations. Eighteen years later, many of those police officers are still working within the department when the murders begin again. The police are more experienced now, and they know they are dealing with the same person when his unique modus operandi reappears. In every case, past and present, Eumenides has sent a Death Notice to his intended victim, detailing the person’s crimes, stating the date of punishment (that day or the next day), and identifying himself as the executioner.
Author Zhou Haohui, whose on-line novels have sold 2.6 billion copies in China.
Eumenides has always been successful in executing those he decides are guilty of particular crimes, no matter how much advance notice he has provided them or how many police have been involved trying to protect the intended victim. One person, Zheng Haoming, a Chengdu police officer from the 4/18 Task Force, knew some of the victims well, and he has never felt comfortable as long as these deaths have remained unresolved. Investigating on his own for years, he finally gets some real clues and decides to seek out a man with horrific scars from a bombing years ago to ask for help. He hopes this man can identify people in some photos he has recently obtained. Zheng is disappointed when the man cannot help, but the maimed bombing victim is equally disappointed. Later that day, a mutilated body is discovered. A man has been killed with a razor-like weapon, and further investigation indicates that the killer is Eumenides.
Tianfu Square, the center of Chengdu.
As each of the eight members of the newly reconstituted 4/18 Task Force begins to become more individualized for the reader, the relationships become clear, along with the rivalries, the private motivations, and the past histories. Eumenides is clearly playing a highly specialized game with the police, and as the murders increase – and include members of the police – the tension increases dramatically. Everyone has secrets, and Eumenides plays on these to bring about his own sense of perverted justice, always escaping capture. As the new investigation begins, Pei Tao from Longzhou, an outsider on the new 4/18 Task Force, comes to the fore. He not only knew the first two victims killed in Chengdu in the same explosion, but he also played a dangerous game with one of them when they were students together in Chengdu. Personally annoyed because he believes that two of the Task Force members have been wasting time conducting an internal investigation of him, he has angrily approached Captain Han, leader of the group, to demand answers as to why. Ultimately, he requests that the 4/18 cases from the past be declassified so that the new Task Force members will have additional information, currently unavailable. The Captain complies.
Several times the Mount Twin Deer Park is mentioned. A herd of nearly extinct Pere David’s deer has been reconstituted in Chengdu. (Story link in Footnotes)
Corruption here seems common – and it was surprising to see in this novel – and one of the leaders of the city appears to be more like an organized crime boss than an important leader. Most of the police officers have secret histories, and a number of civilians with whom the main characters are in contact clearly cannot be trusted. The gap between those in charge and those who are virtually anonymous in this city seems almost insurmountable. A frantic pace evolves as deadly events begin to pile up. Various police officials distrust one another, several begin to come to conclusions of their own, and at times no one really knows what any of the others are doing behind the scenes. This depiction of police behavior made the novel seem a bit more like a typical crime thriller than some of the other novels I have read from China, but while this activity shows the main characters acting like the flawed humans they are, they do not actually “come alive” to the degree that most western readers expect. Almost nothing is shown of the characters’ private, personal lives, for example, or about their inner thoughts and feelings, or the personal values guiding their lives. While these characters may be more fully revealed than what is often the case in novels from China, they are still more limited than what is seen in a typical thriller from western countries. This creates some identification problems for the reader as the novel moves toward its conclusion, since the fictional “hooks” and quirks which allow the reader to keep the characters separate and clearly identified are missing. Keeping a character list that goes beyond the very limited list on the first pages of the book will help with this problem.
This new, mixed use building complex was winner of the LEAF Award, an international architectural prize in 2013.
Fun to read, the novel has excitement and many surprises, one of which comes at the end of the novel when readers unfamiliar with this novel’s past history discover that this is just the first novel of a trilogy. Though many of the issues are settled to some degree of satisfaction, other key issues are left for the future. A second and third novel will need to include a significant review of the character list if the reader is to bring past knowledge to bear on the new narratives and keep from confusing Zeng with Zheng, Peng and Deng.
Note: This novel was WINNER of the Hermann Hesse Literature Prize and the Swiss Book Prize in 2016.
“Droll films in which [Charlie] Chaplin played a down-and-out fellow plagued by bouts of bad luck who still managed to prevail against all odds were enjoying fantastic success in Japan. Something about the inner, utterly anarchic expression of that short, shabbily dressed, always melancholically amused, mustachioed hero, stirred the Japanese soul deeply; they applauded his cinematographic escapades, and his revolt against authority, usually embodied by cretinous policemen, was felt by the audience to be extremely liberating.”
Set in Berlin and Tokyo in the 1930s, Swiss author Christian Kracht’s latest novel offers an unusual fictional vision of the prewar years in Germany and Japan – one in which the primary focus of the author – and ultimately of his two main characters – is not that of reality as much as it is of cinema: Life and the future can be controlled in a film, even if they can not be controlled in real life. At this time, Hollywood is recognized as the center of the film industry, and its stars are recognized throughout the world. With Germany becoming more militaristic and more devoted to expansionist goals, and Japan wanting to counteract the national influence of the Chinese and the seeming omnipotence of American culture, however, it is only a small step before both Germany and Japan decide that the most effective way to accomplish their own specific goals may be to affect national opinion through the production of their own films.
Author Christian Kracht
Emil Nageli, a young Swiss film director nearing his thirtieth birthday, has been in Berlin talking with Reich Minister Hugenberg, who believes that a well-made horror film – “an allegory, if you like, of the coming dread” – would attract much attention, even in America. He also wants to involve the Japanese, however, since he believes that they “will sooner or later subdue the Asian continent” and when that happens, he hopes the globe will be “overrun with German films, colonized with celluloid.” Masahiko Amakasu, a Japanese film maker and admirer of Nageli, hopes to establish a relationship with the Germans and arranges for a meeting with Nageli in Japan. Amakasu, too, envisions film changing the world, hoping a Japanese film will “counteract the seeming omnipotence of American cultural imperialism in the realm of film.” As the novel works its way back and forth in time, back and forth between the Germans and the Japanese, back and forth between the two main characters, and back and forth between reality and the imagination, represented here primarily through cinema, the reader is introduced to the characters, in detail, along with their family histories, their personal goals, and just how far they are willing to go to protect themselves and those they love.
A meeting takes place between Nageli and Amakasu at the Imperial Hotel, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.
In the epigraph which introduces the novel, Virginia Woolf is quoted as saying, “What is life? That’s the question. Something not necessarily leading to a plot,” and the author takes this to heart here in The Dead. In a spectacularly dramatic scene, Kracht’s novel begins with a Japanese officer who “had committed some transgression or other [and who] now intended to punish himself in the living room of an altogether nondescript house.” The reader then discovers that a hidden, live camera is recording the young officer’s every movement, every breath, every thought as he disembowels himself, committing seppuku. In the next chapter, young Swiss director Emil Nageli is flying from Zurich to Berlin in an old, shuddering aircraft, and he is “at the end of his tether” – terrified – an ironic juxtaposition of the moods and cultural contrasts between East and West which will also be obvious in later scenes between Nageli and Amakasu. Here both main characters are so obsessed with their own visions of their futures – and their contrasting attitudes toward death and responsibility – that that they fail to distinguish between what is real and what is imagined, and that, according to the epigraph, is what life is all about. It also explains why the novel moves around so much, focusing on a variety of different times, places, and people without connecting all the details into a neat package.
Masahiko Amakasu, Imperial Army Officer and head of the Manchukuo Film Association.
Despite the thin plot which connects all the events described here, author Kracht does develop his characters. Nageli is, except for his career, an ordinary person, described as likable, civilized, sensitive, alert, and sometimes grouchy from low blood sugar, a man becoming more myopic, losing his hair, and having a moon-shaped belly. When he was a child, his father sometimes hit him in the face if he refused to eat his porridge, and he often called him “Philip,” as if he did not remember Emil’s name. On his deathbed, however, Nageli’s father tries to sit up to tell him something important, and then falls back, dead, leaving Nageli desperate to know what his father intended to say, hoping for “absolution, if not pardon.” Masahiko Amakasu’s childhood was a bit different. Able to read by the time he was three and fluent in five languages by age seven, he was already having suicidal fantasies by the age of five, and he often read (and hid in his parents’ garden) a collection of violent picture books. On vacation in Hokkaido, he would hide behind trees and envision his own funeral. Sent to boarding school (which he describes as a “flogging parlor,”), where he was bullied, he eventually acted out his violence against the school.
Actor Charlie Chaplin and his valet, Kono, meet with Nageli and Amakasu in Tokyo to discuss films.
As these characters develop further, connect, and begin to discuss film in Tokyo, Charlie Chaplin also enters the mix of backgrounds, ideas, emotions, and experiences, and the whole purpose of the film discussions begins to wane. Meeting at the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, for whom the hotel has been an enduring monument to the power of imagination and its execution in reality, Nageli, Amakasu, Charlie Chaplin, and Kono, Chaplin’s valet of seventeen years, barely escape the assassination of the Japanese Prime Minister by military cadets. By the conclusion, reality is clearly combining with fiction, further enhancing the themes. Nageli, who is a fictional character, and Amakasu, who was a real officer of the Japanese Imperial Army and the real head of the Manchukuo Film Association, end up on a ship with Charlie Chaplin, eventually arriving in Los Angeles, minus Amakasu. The fates of the other characters seem not to conclude so much as fade, as life ends and imagination continues. As Virginia Woolf would reconfirm from her epigraph, life is not necessarily something leading to a plot, and author Christian Kracht obviously agrees, wholeheartedly.
Tokyo’s Imperial Hotel, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, is the site of a meeting that includes Nageli, Amakasu, and Charlie Chaplin. http://japantravelcafe.com/
Masahiko Amakasu, head of the Manchukuo Film Association and member of the Imperial Army. https://commons.wikimedia.org/
Charlie Chaplin and his valet of seventeen years, Kono, are also in Tokyo to discuss the role of films. https://www.pinterest.com/
Note: Jon McGregor was WINNER of the IMPAC Dublin award for Even the Dogs in 2012, and is WINNER of the Costa Award, the Somerset Maugham Prize, and the Betty Track Award for Reservoir 13 in 2017.
“It’s actually rather misleading, isn’t it, the walk up to Black Bull Rocks? The path isn’t as direct as it looks from the bottom of the hill. There are several narrow gorges or valleys on the way. The path drops down steeply and climbs up and out of each of these… And the streams through each of these are running high at this time of year so it’s not always a simple matter getting across them….”—interview of Charlotte, mother of the missing Becky Shaw.
The story of Becky Shaw, daughter of Charlotte and Joe Shaw, a thirteen-year-old girl who disappeared while vacationing in a rural English village during the holiday season, was introduced and developed in British/Bermudian author Jon McGregor’s Reservoir 13 in 2017, a novel which won three major prizes in the UK. In that novel, McGregor focuses not on the search for Becky but on how her disappearance affects everyday life in the community. Everyone in town is looking for her, but as the search bears no fruit and few clues evolve from all the investigation, the residents are gradually drawn back into their more immediate personal issues of earning a living. Time has passed – lambing season is now underway, and the cattle are ready for pasture. Life has continued, and Becky’s unknown fate has receded from the public consciousness as people busy themselves once again with their daily lives.
Falling somewhere between a novel and a story collection, McGregor’s new book, The Reservoir Tapes, continues this narrative. Though it revolves around the same subject matter and includes most of the same characters as Reservoir 13, McGregor’s new work is quite different in tone and structure. Here the author takes the reader inside the lives and thoughts of fifteen of the original characters, all of whom are featured in their own chapters which reveal their inner thinking and their memories, along with their fears, vulnerabilities, quirks, and even suggestions of past violence. Individualized in this way, these chapters “speak” to the reader in new ways, creating a sense of hidden danger and violence, raising new questions about what happened to Becky Shaw, and forcing the reader to consider the possibility that someone in the community may have hidden knowledge of what happened to her. Time is flexible, moving back and forth, and as the characters overlap within each other’s stories and memories, as they do in real life, the reader slowly begins to see that this seemingly quiet rural community, dependent on the vagaries of nature, may be far more violent than what was seen in the previous novel.
Heather in bloom on the village moorland, drawing many species of butterflies.
Presented originally as a series on BBC Radio, the stories open with a monologue by an unnamed person who is interviewing Charlotte Shaw, Becky’s mother, in the months after Becky’s disappearance. In a wonderful tour-de-force, Charlotte never speaks – at least to the reader. All information about Becky – and her mother’s reaction to her disappearance – is revealed through the interviewer’s responses. The interviewer asks, for example: “What would Becky have had [for breakfast] if she was eating breakfast alone?” The only response: “I know….But these details. They help to build a picture….If you could….Okay,” clearly indicating that Charlotte is refusing to answer. The mother’s tears, her pauses, her reluctance to respond to questions about a possible boyfriend, and their mother/daughter tensions, lead to what is apparently Charlotte’s decision to stop the interview. To this, the interviewer then suggests that the interview would be “a chance to [tell] your side of the story,” implying that the mother may have come under scrutiny by the community – the same kind of scrutiny which the reader is about to apply here to the rest of the characters who follow.
Essex Skipper butterfly, a rare sight on one of the village’s “butterfly safaris.”
An ominous tone begins early with the introduction of Deepak, a young boy, somewhat overprotected by his mother, who delivers papers on his bike. When the bike’s chain jams and Deepak cannot fix it, a man suddenly appears and insists on helping him. Afterward, the man also persuades Deepak to come inside his house to wash up. A gun lies in plain sight on the table, terrifying Deepak. Later the reader realizes that this same man is seen frequently around other local children, also armed with his gun, though there have been no known incidents. The author continues his mood of menace and threat in the next, much more subtle, chapter. The Visitor Center for the community, well known for its serenity, its nature walks, and its beautiful “butterfly safaris” through the hills, also serves, when necessary, as the center for Mountain Rescue for missing persons. Just recently, while on a hike with Girl Guides, one Guide vanishes, initiating a search. Rescuers find her in a sinkhole and eventually haul her up on a stretcher. The irony of this dire episode in immediate juxtaposition with images of the butterfly safari’s identification of a rare “Essex Skipper” butterfly is inescapable.
A sinkhole on the moors, like the one that swallowed the Girl Guide.
Carefully controlling the sinister hints and episodes, McGregor continues to add information which shows nature – especially human nature – to be much more menacing than what it appeared to be in Reservoir 13. Becky, the reader learns here, had run away once before her recent disappearance, and her friendships with other youths have not been innocent. She has participated in the bullying and humiliation of another child. In other disquieting chapters, the brother of a character makes threatening gestures toward a young woman who is attracted to him; a butcher looking for a new puppy runs afoul of a man who may be involved in a crime syndicate; a mother whose daughter ran away and never came back is still mourning; and a fearsome man regarded as a “kind of bogeyman figure” in the community adds to the complications and the prevailing sense of doom which permeates The Reservoir Tapes.
A man looking for a puppy was obliged to accept a very sick alternative by the crook who sold it.
People who have read and liked the prize-winning Reservoir 13 will have an advantage in reading this experimental novel/collection because of their familiarity with the community and many of its characters, but others may find this work so effectively written from a character and suspense standpoint that they like it as much as McGregor’s earlier Reservoir novel (especially if they keep a character list). Dramatic, insightful, and effective, The Reservoir Tapes makes one wonder if another entry in a Reservoir series might be on its way.