The Truants by Kate WeinbergMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
I just turned the final page of this novel, closed my Kindle and breathed deeply the sharp night air snaking in from the open window, under and around my blinds. For the past six hours, and for an hour last evening, I had been shrouded in the blanket of oppressive closeness created by this author—an absolute heaviness that enveloped me and pressed down while chapter after chapter reeled out as if behind a gauzy curtain, just slightly out of focus. The effect is at once unsettling and alluring.
This magnificent book, Weinberg’s first, is tragically beautiful. The story is one that has been told a thousand times over—the exploration of self that is part and parcel of a first year college student caught in the romance of the experience. Never before, however, has the story been told with such poignant and exquisite language. Weinberg’s prose is absolutely captivating as she unfolds each character, encouraging us to fall in love with each of them even while exposing the tragic flaws that simmer just below the surface.
The story is linear, but insights are always hindsight and aspects of the tale are revisited and turned over to reveal hidden intent. It’s an engaging approach, though it does have its limits. The final pages that complete the journey to the conclusion meander and sometimes read like a stream of consciousness. It is here that the reader is shaken and forced to pay close attention, to activate prior knowledge gained in early pages and to keep up with the overactive thought processes of the narrator. As such, this is not a beach read, but rather a deep dive that requires a great deal of concentration to achieve a satisfying payout. This forced focus adds to that feeling of an elephant sitting on your chest as you read—you desperately want him to move so that you can breath again, but in this case, moving the beast means ending the novel. The reader is faced with a dilemma of wanting to emerge from the suffocating tone, where the cruelty of truth lays bare betrayal and deceit, and yet wanting to remain in a drowsy, romantic state, where the wine flows freely and the possibilities are endless; where that fine line between love and lust is obliterated.
I hope that this isn’t the last we hear of Weinberg. Her ability to manipulate language so that it, in turn, fully immerses the reader is unparalleled. It’s only January, and I’m sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that this will feature in my top reads of the year. Right now, it’s at number one and has set quite the bar!
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