Waxwings: A novel [Hardcover]

This was the first of Raban's novels I've read, and while I didn't enjoy it quite as much as Richard Russo's Empire Falls, it was a white-collar version of Russo's blue-collar ethos; sympathetic (if not quite as deep and subtlely drawn) characters (with a great portrayal of a child and his interaction with his parents), interesting interwoven stories which were consistent enough to not have offputting surprises two-thirds of the way through, and a great tone carrying through. I found myself thinking about both the book and the characters in the car, wanted to finish it every night, etc. Definitely a keeper.

I'm a Seattleite, so while I appreciated all of the shout-outs to my neighborhood and the environs, I don't know if it would seem either provincial or overly foreign to a non-local. I don't think of Seattle as sufficiently strange to merit the depth of description and the concept of a "Seattle novelist," but perhaps I'm too used to the rain.

The last page or so was wooden. It had a typical novelist's opening or closing lyrical tendency that felt dramatically out of place.

Things happen.... life goes on for forty-somethings living in Seattle at the turn of this century. Jonathan Raban's well-written prose describes America from an insider's view...well sort of.

The main character, an English creative writing professor, Tom, lives in Seattle with his American multi-tasking computer-boom, upwardly catapulting wife, Beth. Their child, Finn, is four and three quarters years of age.

Things aren't going that well for the couple. Not only are they no longer seeing eye to eye, they are not really seeing each other any more.

Beth: "It was his unplaceablity-or as she saw it now, his existential vagueness- that had so attracted her when they first met. He was like no-one she had ever known. The trouble was that after eight years Beth still had days when she didn't quite know who Tom was."

Tom: "It was an encounter blessedly without consequence. The woman was married; and even if she hadn't been, her unsettling likeness to Beth would have put her safely out of bounds. But the uncomplicated airiness of their exchange gave him an inkling, a glimmer, of a life still hidden from his view."

The book's descriptive flourish drives the story, and the internal machinations of the characters help the reader along. The cast of diverse characters saves this timely but occasionally shallow recounting of the contemporary atmosphere. The characters become our familiars, our friends. Serendipitously, they meet (or almost meet) each other, at various points in the story. Their interactions with each other retained my interest with good, believable dialogue

The contrast of these folks, with their diverging thoughts, compulsions, emotions and actions breathes life into the story. Meet Chick, an Asian, illegally working in construction while learning the lay of the land. Shake hands with the hard-boiled cop/screenwriter, Paul Nagel. Get a load of the crew at the dot com office when it's spiraling upward. Thankfully, the characters keep the somewhat implausible subplot of Tom becoming a suspect in child abduction from miring this novel in the mud.

Jonathan Raban's previous readers are guaranteed delight. Readers new to this English author residing in America will see why he keeps writing, and why we keep reading him.

This is the first book I've read by Mr. Raban, and on the basis of a few of the lukewarm reviews posted here, I can only assume that he previously wrote for a different type of audience.

Waxwings is great literature: a fascinating incarnation of "the great American novel" and a more appropriate recipient of all the buzz The Corrections received. The story is engaging and unpredictable; the writing flawless, elegant, acrobatic, funny, and well worth studying.

I bow at your feet, Mr. Raban: I'd like to send you a dozen roses. (Every page is a wonder, but I was particularly moved by the interaction of the very true-to-life boy and his goofy dog. It reminded me of the snippets of inspired dialogue in Mill on the Floss.)

Is the beginning slow? I'll come clean. I didn't warm to the heavy boat talk in the first eight pages, but after that I couldn't put the book down.