Rebecca Frayn’s second novel is elegantly written with a compelling and convincing plot which demonstrates one of her key skills as a writer.She chooses to narrate the story as a male character, Julian Poulter; slightly detached, emotionally ambivalent and yet utterly believable. Julian’s profession as an art valuer, trying to spot fraudulent copies and fakes, creates a deft sub-text to the central premise of the book, alongside his own agendas and self-deceptions. The unreliability of his narration creates an interesting distance between the events and the reader, prompting you to question his motives and the truth beneath his blinkered perspective. There is also a fascinating echo to Annie’s self-deceptions as she tries to deal with the disappearance of her son. I was interested to learn that Frayn’s working title for the piece was “The Art of Self-Deception” which works effectively on a number of different levels.With a limited cast of four main characters and a few minor ones I was fascinated by the authentic depth that Frayn is able to give to Annie and Julian, particularly through her use of dialogue which is beautifully judged and weighted throughout.Frayn was inspired to write the book after reading an article by Nick Davies in The Guardian which described the true story that lies behind her tale. I understand that it took her nearly three years to write the piece, with numerous drafts and re-writes as she grappled to nail her story.Frayn has described the writing of the novel as fulfilling “a kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder, a compulsion that wasn’t sated until the final proof copy went off (to) the printers”. I have to say that reading the novel elicited a similar compulsion, holding me in its thrall until I finished the book in the early hours of the morning. I would recommend that you do likewise. Tragic book :( it was based on a true story which made it even worse. Did I enjoy this book? I'm still undecided. I think it wasn't much of a mystery that they boy was an imposter. Also, the mother was quite irritating. Not sure why, just knew I didn't like her much. Sad ending, sad tale. Horrible to think people would exploit a grieving mother by pretending to be her son. Which raises the question...how could she NOT know??!! Good grief, his eye color had changed, he couldn't read, ride a bike, conveniently remembered and forgot things...but I can't throw stones. I may do the same just to have my son back again, too. Even if deep down you knew something was amiss.
What do You think about L'Écho Du Doute (2011)?
An interesting read. Ending leaves a lot to be desired, though.
—bella
