Rivka Galchen and the Post-Pessl World
Rivka Galchen’s Atmospheric disturbances is one of my favorite novels of the year so far, and will certainly sit at or very near the top of my year end “best of” list. (Check out my review of the novel and my interview with the author.) I’ve been reading all of the reviews that I come across with interest, and I’ve been a little baffled.
Leisl Schillinger gave the novel a glowing review in this week’s New York Times Book Review. Schillinger compares Galchen to “…Jonathan Lethem, Franz Kafka, Primo Levi and Thomas Pynchon. But she also, quite deliberately, echoes the Argentine giant Jorge Luis Borges.” However, I was puzzled by this phrase:
Although she has intellectualized and mystified her subject, intentionally obscuring it in a dry-ice fog of pseudoscience, the emotional peaks beneath her cloud retain their definition.
Actually, Galchen uses actual published scientific articles by her father, Tzvi Gal-Chen as metaphors for the protagonists views of reality. Not pseudoscience.
In another review, a New York Sun reviewer writes:
Every time we read the name — and it appears more and more often as Leo starts to believe his own lie, convincing himself that Tzvi holds the key to Rema’s disappearance — we are reminded of the fictionality of Ms. Galchen’s world. “Gal-Chen” is like the author’s wink to the reader, delivered over the heads of the characters, reminding us that after all this is just a novel, a made-up story.
The name Gal-Chen is more than a wink at the reader. Once the reader understands that Tzvi Gal-Chen is the author’s actual father (deceased), it adds a layer of devastating emotion to the story.
In an otherwise glowing Bookforum review, the reviewer writes:
To attempt to follow the clues in this novel is to engage in a fruitless exercise, like trying to climb the stairs in an Escher woodcut. She’s not there, and you can’t find her that way, anyway. As Liebenstein tacks back and forth in increasingly paranoid circuits through his inner and outer worlds—there are diagrams in this novel, found photographs, and a drawing of the Doppler effect—a weight, beautifully, accumulates in the white space.
Man, oh, man. If you don’t follow those clues, you miss half the point of the novel. The pictures are not “found”, but actual childhood photographs of the author’s family. The diagrams and drawing are from Tzvi Gal-Chen’s published works. Follow the clues…
I’m left wondering how these professional reviewers missed out on the what Galchen was doing in this novel… And I’m left blaming Marisha Pessl. Pessl’s Special Topics In Calamity Physics (which I loved) uses pictures, pseudoscience, and fake journal citations to advance her story. There seems to be feeling among some reviewers that when those devices appear to present themselves, the reader need look no further. It’s just clever post-modernism, a là Pessl. In this case, all it takes is a quick Google search to reveal that Tzvi Gal-Chen is a real person, and the rest quickly follows. To be fair, I didn’t connect some of the dots until I quizzed the author. Then again, I’m not paid for my opinion either. Maybe I’ve become too invested in this book. I do that. I’ll move on now.
Other reviews:
The noted critic James Wood reviews Atmospheric Disturbances for The New Yorker.
The Believer says: “…Galchen is no Paul Auster nor is she meant to be—she might be even better.”
Author Heidi Julavits reviews the novel for the Edmonton Journal review
The Brooklyn Rail interviews the author.
July 15th, 2008 at 5:51 pm
You make a really good point. I have yet to read Galchen’s novel (although I would like to), but it’s been very interesting reading your enthusiasm for it in the face of other criticisms against it. And I think you’re right to blame Pessl–whose clues *did* lead nowhere (other than Blue’s own solution). It’s unfair that others possibly read Galchen’s book in this light, not challenging themselves to look further.
But I confess, reading Nabokov and Auster (and then Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas) has led me to believe that most things an author writes are potential secret-coded messages embedded into the text (for the good ones, anyway). I personally think The Book of Illusions can be read in a way that undermines everything Zimmer thinks he’s telling you… But that’s just me.
July 16th, 2008 at 12:27 am
Of course, I highly recommend that you pick up Galchen’s novel. As an Auster fan, it would be interesting to see if The Believer’s assessment rings true for you.
August 8th, 2008 at 12:17 pm
I’m not by any means an Auster fan, but I did love reading this novel. However, I take a bit of issue with amcorrea’s statement. It says, “an” author, which I read as “authors in general.” More like Nabokov, I think, or Borges, where the FUN is code, rather than a “deep meaning” code. Amcorrea possibly didn’t mean what I said. I wrote this because her or his comment made me think. There’s always a possibility of this in fiction nowadays. D.M. Thomas and Ian McEwan got unjustly criticized for plagiarism for including “real stuff” in their novels (”The White Hotel” and “Enduring Love” respectively). A little googling can add a lot to the enjoyment of some so-cazlled post-modern novels.