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A review by madzsmiled
Trust by Hernán Díaz
informative
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
While initially difficult to get into, this book was delightfully written, peeling back page by page the mystery of the couple at its core. Each novel felt like a new discovery and became easier to read, more personal and less fabricated. While its themes are familiar, it's no less vindicating as you turn the last page and realize the truth.
Mildred's tragic story is reminiscent of the many, many intelligent women that have been lost to history because they could not tell their own stories. The fact that Vanner was the one who actually described her the best - albeit embellishing mania - is really interesting.
Vanner's writing style, let's be honest, is boring, and it made entering the novel difficult, but it was time-accurate. It read like a more historical Great Gatsby and painted Benjamin (Andrew) and Helen (Mildred) as eccentrics who were misunderstood geniuses who fell to the worst fates - one taken by the evils of capitalism, the other by the evils of mental illness.
Andrew's "memoir" was disjointed and intriguing. I loved the incomplete notes, making the narrative feel cobbled together. I knew that I couldn't wholly trust the writing, but I appreciated the style. Mildred was painted as a Saint, but she was not the main character. He was.
Ida's story revealed just how horrible Andrew really was, written both in the past and present. As she discovers Andrew's mythmaking, the real truth begins to peek out between the pages. I marked where Andrew's memoir matched exactly with Ida's life and it was such a great way to tie them together. Seeing his Visage through a woman like Ida finally brought the bigger picture into focus - his pride, callousness, and unwillingness to admit his wife was far more remarkable.
Mildred's journals were the most painful, but the most beautifully written. I loved the format - snippets of her day interspersed with confessions of her true nature. She was the mastermind, and it was through Andrew's voice and station that she was able to thrive. It's here that we realize that Vanner wasn't the liar Andrew painted him to be, rather he got the closest to the truth. She was actually writing to him in the sanatorium, and he seemed to be a good friend. I loved her story, but hated that her life devolved into the pain of cancer.
I first thought that this book needed more exposition, but I was just jumping to conclusions. Read it all the way through before you make judgements. It's a really fascinating puzzle that will stick with me for a long time.
Mildred's tragic story is reminiscent of the many, many intelligent women that have been lost to history because they could not tell their own stories. The fact that Vanner was the one who actually described her the best - albeit embellishing mania - is really interesting.
Vanner's writing style, let's be honest, is boring, and it made entering the novel difficult, but it was time-accurate. It read like a more historical Great Gatsby and painted Benjamin (Andrew) and Helen (Mildred) as eccentrics who were misunderstood geniuses who fell to the worst fates - one taken by the evils of capitalism, the other by the evils of mental illness.
Andrew's "memoir" was disjointed and intriguing. I loved the incomplete notes, making the narrative feel cobbled together. I knew that I couldn't wholly trust the writing, but I appreciated the style. Mildred was painted as a Saint, but she was not the main character. He was.
Ida's story revealed just how horrible Andrew really was, written both in the past and present. As she discovers Andrew's mythmaking, the real truth begins to peek out between the pages. I marked where Andrew's memoir matched exactly with Ida's life and it was such a great way to tie them together. Seeing his Visage through a woman like Ida finally brought the bigger picture into focus - his pride, callousness, and unwillingness to admit his wife was far more remarkable.
Mildred's journals were the most painful, but the most beautifully written. I loved the format - snippets of her day interspersed with confessions of her true nature. She was the mastermind, and it was through Andrew's voice and station that she was able to thrive. It's here that we realize that Vanner wasn't the liar Andrew painted him to be, rather he got the closest to the truth. She was actually writing to him in the sanatorium, and he seemed to be a good friend. I loved her story, but hated that her life devolved into the pain of cancer.
I first thought that this book needed more exposition, but I was just jumping to conclusions. Read it all the way through before you make judgements. It's a really fascinating puzzle that will stick with me for a long time.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Cancer