4/5 stars
What's it about? The Parisian of this smart novel shaves off his mustache, the catalyst for a delirious descent into madness when no one seems to notice or, in fact, recall his ever having facial hair in the first place. Absurd, funny, and with an ending you won’t soon forget.
How’d I find it? My favorite Bookstagrammer, of course. I do enjoy a Carrère novel.
Who will enjoy this book? I’d liken this book to the experience of reading Machines in the Head by Anna Kavan or the short story “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman.
What stood out? The narrator’s slippery grip on reality and his shifts between trust and suspicion make for an entertaining read, a feat considering the relative lack of plot. Carrére is deft at keeping the narrator and the reader guessing, with sprinkles of psychological thriller and horror that maintain momentum. I didn’t love how women were written in this book; Agnès, the narrator’s wife, gets a superficial treatment despite her importance. Though perhaps the narrator is just a scoundrel…
Which line made me feel something? I positively adored the brilliant back cover copy, which included (translation my own): “The story, in any case, inevitably ends terribly and, from impossible explanations to irrational escapes, leaves you no way out. Save one, which is revealed in the last pages and not advised when beginning a book. Consider yourself warned.”