The Historian

I finished it. The 642 page book that I thought I would never be able to get through. Elizabeth Kostova's freshman novel, The Historian. Not a vampire novel, but about Dracula. (If you want a vampire novel, try Bloodsucking Fiends.)

I've talked about the book here and here. I had a hard time getting into the book, and almost gave up on it. However, I couldn't bring myself to commit what my good friend Julie adeptly labeled biblio hanky-panky, so I stuck it out. And guess what happened? Around page 250 I realized that I really liked the book.

The novel took Kostova ten years to complete, and it is evident in the rich descriptions that she uses as the characters travel all over northern and eastern Europe. Each city she describes takes on its own flavor, exudes an individual scent, that draws you in and sets aflame the desire to visit Travelocity and start buying a ticket. Istanbul felt hot and exotic; France, old and stately; Romania, romantic and mysterious. Her language is what made me fall in love with the book.

That's not to say the book was without it's problems. Chief complaint #1 was the structure. Large portions of the novel are flashbacks communicated via letters or other writings of people related to the protagonist, to the point that there is almost no single protagonist, but rather a cast of protagoni. At one point, Character A is reading a letter written by Character B who is quoting Character C. So you have two whole chapters where each paragraph starts with double quotes (to signify that you are quoting Character B) then with a single quote (Character B is quoting Character C). There had to be a better way to structure the book, rather than quoting a quoting of a quoting of a quoting ...

Also, the title was a little misleading. It should have been called The Historians. But that is forgiven in the last fifty pages.

One thing that did take some getting used to was the story's strict adherance to the dramatic structure. (Thanks to Wikipedia for the image.) The exposition opens the novel, then for the next 500 pages you have rising action. Somewhere around page 250 to 300 I suddenly realized that, though the slope was constant, and therefore it felt like the story wasn't going anywhere, the story steadily built in intensity. And I was captivated. It worked up to climax around page 600, with the falling action and denouement (love that word) in the last fifty pages.

Would I recommend it? Heartily. Do you need to be willing to commit? Yes. Is it worth it? Definitely.