The Singer’s Gun
Anton Waker’s parents are dealers in stolen goods, and his devious cousin Aria recruits Anton’s help in setting up a business forging passports and social security cards. But all Anton wants is to be an ordinary corporate drone, living a simple, lawful life. He quits Aria’s business, gets himself a fake Harvard diploma and snags a job at Water Incorporated, determined to go straight. He gets engaged to a beautiful cellist with the New York Philharmonic and looks forward to a mundane, middle class existence.
Anton Waker’s parents are dealers in stolen goods, and his devious cousin Aria recruits Anton’s help in setting up a business forging passports and social security cards. But all Anton wants is to be an ordinary corporate drone, living a simple, lawful life. He quits Aria’s business, gets himself a fake Harvard diploma and snags a job at Water Incorporated, determined to go straight. He gets engaged to a beautiful cellist with the New York Philharmonic and looks forward to a mundane, middle class existence.
But Emily St. John Mandel’s newest novel, The Singer’s Gun, clearly illustrates that you can’t escape your past, no matter how good your intentions. A background check at work results in Anton being demoted from an eleventh floor manager’s office to a file storage room on the mezzanine level. His access to the company computer system is denied, all the employees that he used to supervise report to someone else, and he is given no work to do. Inexplicably, however, he isn’t fired.
Very gradually, Mandel parcels out background information; scenes she described earlier in the novel take on new significance as we learn more about Anton and his past. Anton is being investigated by Alexandra Broden, an agent from the State Department. His fiancée cancels their wedding twice. He is contacted by his cousin Aria, asking for his help with one last illegal deed – on his honeymoon.
Any further description would spoil the fun, or at least the mystery/thriller portion of it. Mandel’s novel is hard to categorize; it’s more reflective, thoughtful and well written than the typical thriller, but has more intrigue and action than a strictly literary book. Anton Waker is no one’s action hero; he is the most passive main character you will ever find in a suspense novel. He stays with his fiancée even after she cancels the wedding twice; he falls in love with his secretary but marries his fiancée anyway (third time’s the charm). He lets his cousin bully him into illegal activities, and he waits around for a new position at work even though he is obviously persona non grata at Water Incorporated.
The novel is carefully crafted, revealing, layer by layer, the formation of Anton’s personality, as well as his cousin’s. It raises intriguing questions about the difference between illegality and immorality; as Anton’s mother tells him, “Most things you have to do in life are at least a little questionable.” Who is more immoral: Anton’s cousin for instigating illegal activities or Anton for passively acquiescing to her demands?
Mandel’s writing flows effortlessly, which makes for easy reading. Though readers may be tempted to read quickly to find out what happens next, it would be a shame to rush past some of Mandel’s lovelier moments, like this description of Anton looking for his lost lover’s reflection in the windows of the building across from his:
Sometime after seven his office window began to appear faintly on the surface of the glass tower outside, like a photograph rising out of liquid in a darkroom. An hour later the image was clearer, and by nine o’clock – damn these endless summer evenings – Anton could see almost every window of his building reflected on the side of the hotel . . . Anton stood close to the glass, looking from window to window, but none of the brightly lit squares held Elena.
While Anton is a sympathetic character, I did find myself wishing he would do something, take some sort of initiative, especially towards the end. And there was one plot development (again, I can’t describe it without giving too much away) that was so predictable it was disappointing. These defects would be more damning if Mandel’s book was strictly a genre novel of mystery and suspense, but because she explores so many other themes, the mystery element felt more like a pleasant bonus than the main purpose of the story.
The Singer’s Gun is full of complex, believable and very likeable characters; even the most irredeemable character has a pitiable background that provides some explanation, if not justification, for her behavior. Even without the intrigue, they would all be compelling; with it, they make The Singer’s Gun the best kind of page-turner: one you wish would go by a little bit slower, but can’t help reading in one sitting.