Julie Orringer is a new-to-me author whose past works I’d heard of but hadn’t yet read. When I received a widget of her newest novel, titled Luna, Phoenix, Queen, from NetGalley, I was intrigued enough by the premise, plus I had heard of the book from several of my reader friends who had loved it, so I decided to give it a go. This turned out to be a fascinating, absorbing read that also introduced me to an author whose previous works I am now very interested in reading.
The structure of Luna, Phoenix, Queen is an interesting one. The story consists of 8 chapters that are each told from the differing perspectives of its characters: the husband and wife professors Barr and Dava Pennington, Dava’s lover (and fellow professor) Svetlana White, a research assistant named Evie, and the Penningtons’ two sons Milo and James. This non-linear format – each chapter told from different POVs and covering events that both overlap and don’t, with time and place also varying from chapter to chapter – presents a unique structure in which this book felt simultaneously like a bunch of separate stories linked together as well as one combined story with multiple threads taken up by a revolving cast of characters. This structure also has the added effect of giving us intimate insight into the hearts and minds of almost all the characters: we come to understand the motivations behind the characters’ actions and get to know the characters in a more deeply affecting way.
Orringer explores numerous topics in the story, including marital infidelity, betrayal, dysfunctional family dynamics, same sex relationships, chronic illness and its very real impact upon sufferers as well as those around them, the frailty and vulnerability of human emotion and reason, artistic ambition, the complex boundaries around art and literature and the question of who actually owns a story, the power of love in its numerous and varying forms, etc. I was actually surprised by the amount of ground that Orringer is able to cover, yet the story never feels overly long or draggy (the book overall is less than 300 pages, which is short for a literary novel of this scope) – a testament to the masterful writing and the seamless way in which the author is able to integrate the various emotionally complex themes.
In addition to the richly developed characters and the compelling storytelling, one of the things I also loved about this book is the brilliant way in which the dog is incorporated into the story in a central role that ties several of the character portrayals together, both physically and emotionally. Not surprisingly, the dog ends up being my favorite character in the story.
This is a beautifully written story that is also emotional, poignant, and deeply thought-provoking. The characters are portrayed realistically – Orringer captures the vulnerabilities, flaws, and contradictions of human nature so well that each of the characters felt relatable, even the one who was the obvious villain of the story (for the record – I abhorred his unforgivable actions like everyone else did, but at the same time, by showing his comeuppance and how the feelings of guilt and shame ate away at him to the point of no return, I was able to approach the character with a tiny bit of pity).
I definitely recommend this book to readers of literary fiction who appreciate richly drawn characters and unconventional story structures. As I mentioned at the start of this review, I intend to explore this author’s backlist at some point, as my experience reading this one definitely piqued my interest in her writing style.
Received ARC from Knopf via NetGalley.
