Scan barcode
A review by stephwd
The Good Father by Noah Hawley
5.0
Dr Paul Allen lives an almost idyllic life with his second wife and twins. However, all this changes when he returns home one day to witness the news: a democratic presidential candidate has been shot at a political rally. Most devastating of all, the lead suspect, who has been caught on camera, is his son, Daniel. Thus begins Paul’s journey to discover the truth.
This is a brilliant novel for so many reasons. On the one hand, it is a kind of thriller. As a rheumatologist, who is used to dissecting the evidence of a patient’s symptoms, Paul is determined to prove his son’s innocence, to piece together the evidence that will vindicate his son. However, it is increasingly ambiguous as to whether his son is responsible or not and even if he is, whether or not he was somehow forced into the assassination against his will. Naturally, this ‘did he didn’t he’ aspect of the novel propels the plot forward creating taught suspense that makes the reader just as desperate as Daniel’s poor father to discern the truth and, for Paul’s sake, to prove Daniel’s innocence.
The other element of suspense that propels the novel so brilliantly is the manner in which Hawley retrospectively follows Daniel’s story as his father pieces together the puzzle of Daniel’s life from the moment he drops out of college to the time of the shooting. Having just travelled to California and undertaken a 3,000 mile journey across the state, I had a new understanding of the distances Daniel travelled and the sense of isolation this must have involved (which I feel is something that we never really experience in England where in travelling 3,000 miles even from the furthest tip of Britain, you would have ended up somewhere in the North Sea.) Much of these sections are told from Daniel’s perspective and whilst his sense of detachment and utter egotism meant he was hard to engage with, this was a fitting portrayal given the nature of the character.
Yet, this novel is not that simple. Embedded within the novel, are a series of further stories as Hawley interweaves historical events such as the attempted assassination of Reagan, the events at Wako and so many more where humans have turned to murder and even mass murder. This not only makes the story itself more credible – it seems to be embedded within a historical reality – but also makes the novel yet more fascinating. This is incredibly well researched and, perhaps as a non-American, many of the details of these previous assassinations, particularly those perpetuated by adolescents, were new to me. Whilst it may seem rather macabre to find such events interesting, Hawley does not sensationalise them and at times the book becomes almost a work of non-fiction in his documenting of historical cases and presentation of the perpetrators in a psychological light.
What is more, the novel is also simultaneously a family drama. In many regards, Paul’s greatest fear is not so much that Daniel may have committed this atrocity, but rather that, if he did, his psychological disturbance is his fault. The child of a divorce, shuttled between states as a teenager and often abandoned by his parents (most notably his father in favour of his new family), Paul suddenly realises the extent to which he has let his son down. As such, the novel also explores the damaging effects a parents’ relationship can have on their children and the ensuing guilt for this damage. Again, this is not romanticised and the father is not exonerated, rather it is explored in a realistic and sensitive way that is also terrifying in the way in which it implies that Paul and Daniel could be the archetype for so many father and son relationships in the developed world.
There have been a lot of comparisons between this novel and ‘We Need to Talk about Kevin’, which is another brilliant novel. However, whilst there are obvious connections – both deal with a potentially horrific act undertaken by a young boy and the parent’s ensuing guilt, beyond this, such connections are rather superficial. ‘The Good Father’ is a superb novel in its own right. The manner in which it is told, the investigative way in which it is narrated and the central protagonist’s characterisation is very different. The danger of such comparisons is that you look for a book that is identical to ‘Kevin’ which was, in my view, a real one off and thus seeing this as coming up short simply because it doesn’t follow the ‘Kevin’ formula. The brilliance about ‘Kevin’ lay in its very unexpected events that were so shocking and to mirror this would not result in the same impact. What ‘The Good Father’ does is something very different and very special.
This is a unique thriller with a great deal to recommend it if you approach it with a fresh mind and appreciate it for what it is: a deeply psychological and intriguing investigation into the human mind and heart.
This is a brilliant novel for so many reasons. On the one hand, it is a kind of thriller. As a rheumatologist, who is used to dissecting the evidence of a patient’s symptoms, Paul is determined to prove his son’s innocence, to piece together the evidence that will vindicate his son. However, it is increasingly ambiguous as to whether his son is responsible or not and even if he is, whether or not he was somehow forced into the assassination against his will. Naturally, this ‘did he didn’t he’ aspect of the novel propels the plot forward creating taught suspense that makes the reader just as desperate as Daniel’s poor father to discern the truth and, for Paul’s sake, to prove Daniel’s innocence.
The other element of suspense that propels the novel so brilliantly is the manner in which Hawley retrospectively follows Daniel’s story as his father pieces together the puzzle of Daniel’s life from the moment he drops out of college to the time of the shooting. Having just travelled to California and undertaken a 3,000 mile journey across the state, I had a new understanding of the distances Daniel travelled and the sense of isolation this must have involved (which I feel is something that we never really experience in England where in travelling 3,000 miles even from the furthest tip of Britain, you would have ended up somewhere in the North Sea.) Much of these sections are told from Daniel’s perspective and whilst his sense of detachment and utter egotism meant he was hard to engage with, this was a fitting portrayal given the nature of the character.
Yet, this novel is not that simple. Embedded within the novel, are a series of further stories as Hawley interweaves historical events such as the attempted assassination of Reagan, the events at Wako and so many more where humans have turned to murder and even mass murder. This not only makes the story itself more credible – it seems to be embedded within a historical reality – but also makes the novel yet more fascinating. This is incredibly well researched and, perhaps as a non-American, many of the details of these previous assassinations, particularly those perpetuated by adolescents, were new to me. Whilst it may seem rather macabre to find such events interesting, Hawley does not sensationalise them and at times the book becomes almost a work of non-fiction in his documenting of historical cases and presentation of the perpetrators in a psychological light.
What is more, the novel is also simultaneously a family drama. In many regards, Paul’s greatest fear is not so much that Daniel may have committed this atrocity, but rather that, if he did, his psychological disturbance is his fault. The child of a divorce, shuttled between states as a teenager and often abandoned by his parents (most notably his father in favour of his new family), Paul suddenly realises the extent to which he has let his son down. As such, the novel also explores the damaging effects a parents’ relationship can have on their children and the ensuing guilt for this damage. Again, this is not romanticised and the father is not exonerated, rather it is explored in a realistic and sensitive way that is also terrifying in the way in which it implies that Paul and Daniel could be the archetype for so many father and son relationships in the developed world.
There have been a lot of comparisons between this novel and ‘We Need to Talk about Kevin’, which is another brilliant novel. However, whilst there are obvious connections – both deal with a potentially horrific act undertaken by a young boy and the parent’s ensuing guilt, beyond this, such connections are rather superficial. ‘The Good Father’ is a superb novel in its own right. The manner in which it is told, the investigative way in which it is narrated and the central protagonist’s characterisation is very different. The danger of such comparisons is that you look for a book that is identical to ‘Kevin’ which was, in my view, a real one off and thus seeing this as coming up short simply because it doesn’t follow the ‘Kevin’ formula. The brilliance about ‘Kevin’ lay in its very unexpected events that were so shocking and to mirror this would not result in the same impact. What ‘The Good Father’ does is something very different and very special.
Spoiler
SPOILER ALERT: Does it provide an answer for the son’s behaviour. No! For which I have read some criticism. However, this surely is the point and as with ‘Kevin’ it is what makes the novel and the central character so chilling. Like Iago’s ‘motiveless malignity’ what makes Daniel so disturbing, so aberrant and so fearful is the very lack of motive.Spoiler
/This is a unique thriller with a great deal to recommend it if you approach it with a fresh mind and appreciate it for what it is: a deeply psychological and intriguing investigation into the human mind and heart.