Book Review: The Reading
The Reading. Barbara Monier, Amika Press, 27 September 2022, Paperback, Hardback, Audiobook and eBook, 273 pages.
Reviewed by Paula Mikrut.
Does our parents’ choice of name influence who we are to become?
This question, posed by the protagonist in The Reading, is a natural one for her to ask. She was named after the titular character in JD Salinger’s famous story, “For Esme—with Love and Squalor,” a character her own family described as a “terribly cold person” with “no sense of humor.” But the girl in the story didn’t accept these dour descriptions. She trained herself to be more compassionate and later reached out a hand to the narrator, a soldier, pulling him back from the edge when he was suffering from PTSD. The similarity between the two Esmes becomes obvious in the course of this book and, just like our protagonist, we want to know the answer to the story’s question.
Our Esme is a 64-year-old writer who longs for a real connection with another person but doesn’t know how to find it. As a child, she had a close relationship with her father, who disappeared under mysterious circumstances when she was five. She was raised by her mother, and the hallmark of their relationship was that they didn’t talk about anything important. As a young adult, she had an intense relationship with a poet, but he died in a car accident more than thirty years ago, and she has lived alone since then.
Now she is adrift. Her writing is blocked, she questions her identity as a writer and is conflicted about moving in with a man who has declared there will be no “navel gazing” in their relationship. Then an old college friend’s appearance at a reading sends her back in time, evoking memories of a year she thinks of as the worst of her life and causing her to examine her past to try to find a way forward.
Esme isn’t just the protagonist. She is the only character with more than a bit part. So for this novel to work, we need to care about her. Luckily, she’s an intriguing character, complex and contradictory. She knows what she needs—a true connection with another person. But like so many of us, she sabotages herself without realizing it. Convinced that she can instantly recognize someone with whom she is destined to connect, she judges people when she meets them based on the most superficial of traits. She keeps people at a distance and can be cruel or dismissive of people who care about her.
Esme’s living situation is a perfect metaphor for the decision she faces about whether to move in with Gino. She currently lives in a first-floor apartment, where she can observe the world, hidden but nearby. Every day, she listens through the window to people who gather on the front stoop. Gino lives in a high-rise, and she can see the lake and the geese but is more removed from any human interaction. Which choice is right for her, or is there another option? Can she find a way to participate in, and not just observe, her life?
As I was reading this book, I thought I understood Esme’s options and what she would decide. I was surprised by what actually happened and thought that she had made a better choice than I would have.
There is a letter that Esme’s father leaves for her the day he disappears. The front of the envelope says “SECRET.” I kept waiting to find out what was in the envelope and what really happened to her father, but I was disappointed. Still, this was a satisfying book that I’m glad I read. I only wish I had gotten the print version. From what I can tell, the cover is gorgeous—the kind of book I might keep on the coffee table because it’s so beautiful.