Re-view

Image by Igor Morski

                                      

I recently finished reading the book The Woman in the Window by A.J. Finn. With its ingenious use of old black and white suspense movies as a backdrop, and applying the main character, child psychologist Anna Fox’s agoraphobia that restricts her to the space of her apartment to full effect, I was not disappointed. I had the psychological thriller I was looking for at this stage. 

It is well written and reflects a sense of fine observation by the author. A sentence like, 

“I zoom in on his feet: oxblood oxfords, slick with polish, collecting the autumn sunlight, kicking it off with each step” 

within the first few pages testifies to that and got me hooked. 

But it’s not the book as such that I want to talk about, however good it may be.

A.J. Finn is the pseudonym of American author and editor Daniel Mallory. His contributions to publications like the Washington Post, the Los Angeles Times  and the Times Literary Supplement (UK) underscore his ability as a writer. I can understand why Woman in the Window has been #1 on the New York Times Best Seller List and that there are plans to adapt the book into a movie.

Looking for some background information on A.J. Finn before reading the book I was surprised to discover that he has been surrounded by controversy. Allegations had been made that Mallory lied about his professional history and his health, telling people that he had brain cancer while that wasn’t the case.

Serious as these allegations are, it is not about Mallory and his background that I want to talk about. 

My main focus is my own reactions and how I was truly surprised by it.

With the book that got very good reviews already in hand, I decided to learn more about the author. And on reading about the controversies surrounding him I was so disappointed that I was on the verge of giving this read a miss. I did not want to read something by an author who allegedly isn’t honest.

I can rationalize my reaction and say that I am lately so tired of all the political spin and fabrications flooding us in the run-up to the elections here in South Africa, that I want to distance myself from anything that lacks integrity. There is truth to that. And I have to be sensitive to my needs.

But it really shocked me that on reading a few posts on the internet about Mallory I was so influenced that I wanted to put a good book (as it turned out) aside.

The whole experience led me to face a few important questions:

• Is there anything an author/artist can do that will justify me ignoring or shunning her/his creation? Must I not read Hemingway because he drank too much? Should I douse my love for Caravaggio’s paintings because he had a tendency to be violent and even killed a man? Are the poems and thoughts of NP Van Wyk Louw now of no value to me because he had an extramarital relationship with Sheila Cussons? (The same yardstick will then obviously also apply to my love of Sheila Cussons’ poems). Because I am against the use of drugs, must I stop appreciating the brilliance of Amy Winehouse?

• What will the result be should I decide to “sanitize” my pool of influence? If my reading list consists only of Christian books, if I only listen to artists who are making my grade of moral standards, if I only watch movies that are totally devoid of anything that might clash with my viewpoints and values?

• How will the decisions I make in this regard influence my ability to grow? Will it have an effect on my ability to be open and really listen to someone who might differ from me on many levels? What about tolerance and respect? And the ability to engage in deep conversation without reverting to smear tactics and even violence if I don’t agree? 

In the end a story about a cloistered woman witnessing a murder from her window made me look and question as well.  

On many levels I am very glad I’ve read the book. That in itself answers almost all my questions.

George