Charlotte Swenson is a former model in her late 30s who now
has 80 titanium screws in her face due to a horrific car accident. She struggles to put her life back together
but finds that she is no longer in demand as a model. After sabotaging a couple of weird
opportunities, she finds herself in the midst of a Big Brother-type internet
venture that may or may not pan out financially. She is also in contact with a private
investigator, Anthony Halliday, who is searching for a mysterious man known as
Z, but Charlotte’s connection to Z is revealed one tiny bit at a time. Meanwhile, a teenage Charlotte (Hauser),
daughter of Charlotte Swenson’s best friend in Rockford, Illinois, is
struggling with adolescent issues of her own and embarks on an illicit sexual liaison
with the new math teacher in town. The
narrative alternates between the two Charlottes, neither of whom is a
particularly likable character. Halliday
is the most sympathetic character, I think, but his possible infatuation with
Charlotte S. is certainly ill-advised, as she is a head case of the first
order. The saving grace of his novel is
the beautiful prose, full of terrific imagery.
Here’s one of my favorite examples:
“A couple approached, the woman large in the way that
couches and refrigerators were large, dressed in a loose floral pantsuit that
hopped around her like a collection of eager pets.”
The novel is full of this type of stuff that just made me
sigh with admiration and envy. The
premise of the story is very good: the physical
appearance of someone who depends on her looks is suddenly radically
altered. The plot isn’t bad, or plots, I
should say, although they do eventually merge, but I think the premise and the
writing could have produced something a little more meaty.
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