Fog at Noon
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2.0 • 1 Rating
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- $15.99
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- $15.99
Publisher Description
“One of South America's most acclaimed and pitch-perfect novelists, González plunges you into the brutality of man and nature alike.” — Kerri Arsenault
A perceptive whodunnit set in the shimmering mountain ranches of Colombia, told by a bewitching cast of potential perpetrators
What happens when a person goes missing? Told from alternating perspectives, Fog at Noon offers readers the chance to methodically decipher the story of Julia. A conceited “ninny,” somewhat-gifted poet, ravishing temptress, and thorny friend, Julia shapeshifts and sparkles in the blinding light of conflicting narrative. Her raconteurs? A frequently fishy chorus of acquaintances, lovers, sisters-in-law, and friends. And from behind the veil, Julia speaks for herself.
Tomás González writes of the passionate origins of an affair and its precipitous conclusion, of untraceable debts and the liminal realms between the living and the dead, of New York in a blizzard and the Colombian mountain chains cloaked in fog. Chapter by chapter, each narrator’s story reveals more of Julia’s past, and the tangled love affairs and financial snarls that tie these figures to each other illuminate not just Julia’s absence, but our own human foibles.
Readers will be reminded of the propulsive mysteries of Big Little Lies, as much as the incisive literary works of Domenico Starnone, Michael Ondaatje, and Juan Gabriel Vásquez. Andrea Rosenberg’s translation gleams in every line, as we are lured deeper into the elusive world of Fog at Noon.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
In the alluring if diffuse latest from González (Difficult Light), a woman's disappearance prompts bitterness, grief, and mordantly funny speculation from her loved ones. Julia, a wealthy and marginally well-known poet in Colombia, ends her fourth marriage when her husband, Raúl, is no longer able to feign respect for her poetry. After Julia marries another man, she goes missing. Raúl's sister, Raquel, then finds poems on Julia's blog about "murdering" her marriage to Raúl, and about Raúl "as well, murdered." Reflecting on the irony that Julia is the one who's gone missing, Raquel doubts she will be found, "much less found alive." González leans into the macabre turn—chapters narrated by Julia suggest she might be speaking from beyond the grave ("My poetry was delicate and also complex, like the irises that bloomed around the borders of the flagstone patio at my ranch"), and Raquel jokes to Raúl that Julia might be a "zombie or something," and that even in life "she was pretty braindead already." The plot morphs into a noirish whodunit, which feels underdeveloped, as do the characters' meditations on loss, but the acidic humor keep the pages turning. It's worth a look.
