To start, this is definitely one of the novels that I struggled with the most this term. It had a completely different and unique take on literature. Normally, I like to write my blog post before I watch the lecture or conversation video, as a way to showcase my own perspectives when it is still fresh after reading. However, I had to watch the lecture video because I genuinely could not understand what was going on in the book. To my surprise, my confusion was somewhat justified as I learned that the book consists of fragments that fail to tell a coherent story.
I think this is the beauty of this book. While I was reading, I was led between different storylines and felt like it contrasted my normal reads. Usually, each sentence from the novels I read serves a purpose and results in a finale. It has a beginning, middle, and an end. Yet, it was interesting how this story almost seems like it is a work in progress, as her husband reads and questions if what she has written is reality. So, although Faces in the Crowd got me questioning my understanding, I am trying to appreciate Luiselli’s style of writing.
On page 39, the narrator’s husband reads some of her written work and asks her “Did you use to sleep with women?” He then “asks how much is fiction and how much is fact” (50). This is something I was trying to figure out as a reader. Yes, I read the entirety of the novel. However, I felt like I was reading without comprehending. By the end, I was left questioning what I just read.
“I began to die in Manhattan, in the summer of 1928. Of course, no one except me noticed my deaths—people are too busy with their own lives to take note of other people’s little deaths” (61). This quote reminded me of how everyone has their internal struggles and some people are really good at hiding their feelings. I believe this novel has a lot to unpack, I just do not know where or how to start.
A question I had while reading was: What is the meaning of objects and furniture? Specifically, this thought hit me when “Owen listed the objects in a room he was renting in Harlem: writing desk, pictures, plant, magazines, a piano” (22). I could not help but notice there was something going on in the background. After the lecture video, I realized that there are connections between incidents and objects. For example, the red coat. Hence, this is something that I would like to ask everyone. Additionally, what did everyone think about the novel having multiple stories? How did you approach the novel?
4 replies on “Luiselli – So It’s a Story, Not Reality?”
Hello Jennifer,
What an honest post! That sense of confusion reflects the novel’s fragmented form. As for your question, I approached the novel’s structure by letting go of trying to follow a single, clear storyline and instead focused on patterns, images, and recurring details. The multiple narratives felt less like separate stories and more like echoes of each other, connected through mood and objects
“it was interesting how this story almost seems like it is a work in progress, as her husband reads and questions if what she has written is reality.”
Absolutely. On the one hand, yes, this is a book about a work in progress: a woman writing, or trying to write a book, perhaps two books, which may or may not include the book we are reading.
And then it also incorporates a reader, via her husband, who has many questions for the author. One place I felt that was on page 73: I wasn’t sure who was speaking the first paragraph on that page… and then almost immediately the husband asks the same question! It was almost as though he spoke for me!
In other words, yes, this book is a bit of a struggle, but it knows and anticipates that, and yes, I agree that that’s perhaps part of its charm. (Not sure “charm” is the right word, but…)
Hi Jennifer, thanks for your post! I loved the “work in progress” aspect of the novel. I feel like the practiced roughness in the story made the confusing aspects of the novel less stressful to understand.
Hi!
I also felt that same “reading but not fully understanding” experience. I like how you frame the fragmentation as part of the book’s beauty rather than just confusion, I think the lack of a clear storyline kind of forces us to read differently. The husband’s question about what is fiction vs reality stood out to me too—it almost feels like the novel is making us sit in that uncertainty instead of resolving it. For your question, I didn’t really try to piece everything together into one story, but more to notice patterns or repetitions, which made the reading feel a bit more intentional even if it was still disorienting.