The Fall Guy: A Novel

I'm glad I read "The Fall Guy," if only because it introduced me to James Lasdun, a writer who brings an elegant, discerning style and sensibility to such mundane fictional staples as twisted psychology and murder. Other reviewers have mentioned Patricia Highsmith as an exemplar of the sort of thing that engages Lasdun in "The Fall Guy." I might also mention the late, unsurpassed Ruth Rendell, whose young protagonists, intelligent but irredeemably scarred, find themselves capable of the sort of horrific crime that Lasdun's feckless young protagonist commits without quite intending to. (Camus's "The Stranger" established the genre.) Thanks to the quality of Lasdun's writing, I was reasonably gripped by "The Fall Guy." But as the terrible, entirely foreseeable crime drew near, I became less involved than I wanted me to be. One deficiency was the underdeveloped personalities of the beautiful couple who are the protagonist's quarry. More problematic was the protagonist himself, whose obsession with the wife of his best (sort of) friend seemed narratively forced rather than driven by anything we'd learned about him. Consciously or not, Lasdun chooses to ignore one not implausible turn of the screw in the fatal triangle - the protagonist's repressed homosexuality - opting instead for a crime propelled more by accident than by some buried drive. For all of Lasdun's keen writing, the net effect felt flimsy and thin - less than the author's literary skills deserved.

Wealthy Charlie and Chloe have invited Charlie’s cousin Matthew, a struggling chef, to stay with them in their luxurious home for the summer. Matthew stays in the guest cottage and dreams of perhaps one day living there as caretaker of the home. He steps in as chef for the three of them and cooks enticing meals and they spend their days lounging by the pool or playing Scrabble. But tensions, suspicions and jealousy slowly escalate and the cracks in their relationship begin to appear.

Saying anything more plot wise would go into spoiler territory. As for the writing, there were a few things that weren’t really credible and I kept thinking “Why doesn’t he just…?” But I had such a good time with this book and the world around me was completely lost the whole time I read. It certainly kept me riveted to the pages enjoying the whole experience. I was sure it was taking me in one direction when it never did so I was kept in suspense as to what would happen. The author has created a chilling, sinister, erotic atmosphere that was very entertaining. He truly knows how to tell a story and I’ll be checking out his other books soon. Highly recommended.

This book was given to me by the publisher through Edelweiss in return for an honest review.

What a welcome change: unlike most novels today with their various points of view, fractured timeframes and multitude of settings, here we have a straightforward linear narrative telling what appears on the face of it to be a simple story: a wealthy New York couple, Charlie and Chloe, invite Charlie’s impoverished English cousin Matthew to stay with them in their vacation home for the summer. What could possibly go wrong?

In little over 250 pages, James Lasdun serves up a taut, nuanced and layered tale of love and jealousy. Along the way he throws in some delicious food porn (Matthew is a trained chef and earns his keep through the summer by cooking up stunning meals for Charlie and Chloe) and Lasdun laces his plot with sufficient tension to make this a temptation to read in one sitting. From about the halfway point, I was absolutely convinced that I’d guessed the ending. I was wrong. 4.5*

Don't be deceived by the leisurely opening of James Lasdun's new novel, The Fall Guy. Dark clues are hidden in the ruminations of the quiet, analytical protagonist. There are no car chases, no shootouts, no plane crashes. Instead, we explore the ambiguous relationship between two cousins--Matthew and Charlie--during a sleepy summer in the Catskills. Matthew cooks gourmet meals. Charlie mulls plans for socially conscious investments. Charlie's beautiful wife slips off for afternoon trysts with her lover. Suspicions swirl, questions become obsessions, analysis turns into self-deception. Lasdun, who is both a novelist and a poet, creates an inner world that is seductive and convincing. The ending (like the ending of a great poem) is both shocking and inevitable.

First, I wouldn't call The Fall Guy a "psychological thriller" or a "gripping suspense story". Matthew, the down on his luck protagonist moves in with his cousin Charlie and Charlie's wife Chloe for the summer at their home upstate; while there's definitely tension between the three of them, Matthew more closely resembles a nosy teenage spy than someone at the center of a "deadly web of secrets, obsession, and revenge". While it does move along relatively quickly, the parts where Charlie ends up in banking related conversations read like you've stepped into The Big Short. For readers who don't know all the ins and outs of banking, it doesn't add anything to the story other than to prove that Charlie has more money readily available than Matthew. Not a bad book, but if you've got a choice, read something else. You'll just feel foolish by the time you finish this one.

This wasn't a terrible novel, but to me it certainly didn't seem to warrant all the positive reviews. First of all, all of the characters are unappealing. Second, in some places his writing is pretty good, and in others, it seems awkward and affected, e.g. "...Matthew had teased out a large number of disparate components in the general feeling of enchantment he experienced in her presence." And in the same paragraph: "... there was that very precisely defined and circumscribed amatory interest that the medieval poets understood so well: the attraction of the squire to his master's lady; a matter of devotion on one side and infinite kindness on the other, with the mutual understanding that any favors granted must be of a purely symbolic nature." Then there are the stereotypes: the rich cousin Charlie, the money manager who became rich and has the beautiful condo in Cobble Hill and the stunning place a brief drive away from Manhattan in the countryside; his wife, Chloe, the gorgeous photographer; and the protagonist, Matthew, who is a gourmet chef, lives in Bushwick, and hopes to buy and operate a food truck someday. Then, of course, there are the overwrought descriptions of the dishes Matthew makes for his cousins while visiting them: "He'd intended to cook a version of a Catalan seafood dish that matches a firm white fish with a mixture of blood sausage and sea urchin roe, seasoned with chorizo. He had some decent chorizo from Fairway and he'd bought some Marcella blood sausage at the place near Poughkeepsie. It wasn't the same as Catalan Botifarra Negra, which tended to be lighter on the cloves and cinnamon, but it was the only type you could get in the States and it gave the palate the same kind of womby (Reviewer's note: womby?)cave-like background from which to fall on the sweet flesh of the bass." This appears to be a common thread running through a lot of current fiction dealing with the lives of the wealthy and/or hip: endless descriptions of food which seem to mostly have the goal of letting the reader know that the author knows a lot about expensive ingredients. Enough, already! Anyway, Matthew-- who initially seems like an OK guy, albeit aimless and somewaht narcissistic, turns out as the book progresses to be a great choice for a case study in an abnormal psych textbook. This transformation did not seem particularly convincing to me. The ending, as other reviewers have pointed out, is exceptionally abrupt and unsatisfying, and while the author seems to think it will come as a huge surprise, I think it was easy to see it coming a mile away. Just one further note: the march of events that leads to the final development in the book is precipitated by Chloe's love for her favorite tasty snack, chocolate and kumquats. Of course!

Delightful, intelligent, and wholly addictive. If you like literary fiction with a dollop of suspense, look no further. For fans of Zoe Heller and Muriel Spark.

Disappointing. Like another reviewer, I chose this as my book from the Book of the Month club, where it was pitched as a psychological thriller. Their usually excellent recommendations fell flat with this pick, as I kept waiting for the “slow build” to actual start for nearly 200 pages.
When I think psychological thriller, I think Gone Girl, or even The Girl on the Train. Things that make the reader question what is happening and what is real. The only one who didn’t know what was real in this book was the main character, and his confusion about relationships and circumstances was anything but thrilling. Throw in some unnecessary and tiresome talk about banking and the Occupy movement and you’re really left scratching your head at the end.
I think this book could be enjoyable if it was read not as a psychological thriller, but as a character study on a man prone to obsession. Obsession with cooking, obsession with his cousin’s wife, obsession with the other character that comes into the story because of the cousin’s wife. The writing style is enjoyable, and it is a quick read, but going in with certain expectations that are never met makes it disappointing.

BORING. Couldn't even finish it. Don't waste your money on this one.

Mathew, Charlie, and Chloe are soooo boring.
Reading this book is like walking through quicksand. The going is real slow.
100 pages in and nothings happened.
They sit around the pool, cooking, drinking wine, and doing some 'hard thinking' zzzzzzzz.
Mathew's self involved, bloated, internal dialogue was grueling.
Now why the murder? Motive? Made no sense.
The ending couldn't have come fast enough.

" The geometry of his relationship with Charlie and Chloe might shift as one of them drew closer or further away, but it was permanently and exclusively triangular." -Mathew
The geometry? Shut Up!