American Rust
Philipp Meyer
I mentioned in an earlier post
that I had to return Meyer’s The Son
to the library and that even though I wanted to write about it, I just couldn't
do it without the book in front of me.
Well, my friend (and fellow reader) Gaff fixed that particular problem
when he purchased American Rust,
Meyer’s first novel, and lent it to me.
It’s a good feeling, isn't it, to
start a novel that you are almost sure you are going to enjoy? It’s like playing a new U2 album for the
first time or ordering the spaghetti at the (Youngstown shout-out!) Boulevard
Tavern: I am predisposed to enjoy it
because it’s a relatively known quantity that I've enjoyed before. The flaw in
my logic, of course, is that I've listened to thousands of hours of U2 and had
dozens of plates of pasta at the Boulevard.
Those are large sample sizes.
With Meyer, I had only the one novel, The Son. But here’s the thing: The Son
is so sprawling and epic and bloody and purposeful that it can’t be
ignored. Obviously, I’m not the only one
who noticed this – The Son is
receiving many great reviews and, based on rumors, is said to be in the running
for this year’s Pulitzer Prize for fiction.
I didn't know Philipp Meyer
before I saw The Son listed on theTournament of Books site, but after reading it I was ready to read anything
else he had written. And that includes,
of course, his first novel American Rust.
(One personal note here. My dad was not the reader my mom is, but he
enjoyed certain books. I think he would
have loved The Son. He actually used to
tell us that he was kidnapped by Indians as a kid and grew to be accepted by
the tribe. That is exactly what happens
in The Son! And a good chunk of the book takes place in
Texas, where he spent more than a few years.
Many books make me think of my mom or my brothers and sisters, but The Son was the first book in a long
time that made me think of my dad).
So to regroup: I sat down believing
I was going to like American Rust. And I was right. It’s a very different story in scope and
setting than The Son: Set in a Rust Belt Pennsylvania town, it
tells the story of five or six characters who are trying to understand and
overcome what has become of their once-bustling city and their suddenly
makeshift personal lives. Two high-school
buddies, Isaac and Billy, are at the center of the plot (a run-in with vagrants
leads to violence) but even though the novel is a page-turner, it is the
evocation of place and character that you will remember once you’re done with
it.
The characters are especially
memorable. Despite the gutting of the
steel businesses that ordered their lives, most of the characters in American Rust are imbued with a strong sense
of humanity. Additionally, most of the
characters, despite the myriad personal problems that low employment and low
wages usher in, are thoughtful and introspective. By
switching the narrative point of view for each chapter, Meyer allows multiple
characters to tell their story, letting them express their full and sometimes
flawed humanity in their interior dialogues.
This has the moving effect of peeling back the outer shell of pride, or
bravado, or ambition, or confidence– or whatever mask these characters wear for
the world – to display the thoughtful and worried and complicated and bruised
people underneath. The people of the
Rust Belt have sometimes felt discarded, abandoned like the out-of-date coke
plants and machine shops they used to run, but that doesn't happen in American Rust. For Meyer, and the reader, these characters
matter. They have importance.
Maybe this is why, even though these
characters aren't perfect by any stretch, we root for them, even in the face of
despair. We root for them because Meyer
reminds us that everybody matters, and we are rewarded by finding out that even
in the face of despair, there is hope.
I’d recommend The Son or American Rust without hesitation.
Once you read one, you’ll want to read the other.
