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A review by chrissie_whitley
A Ladder to the Sky by John Boyne
5.0
"And you've heard the old proverb about ambition, haven't you?
...
"That it's like setting a ladder to the sky. A pointless waste of energy."
[a:John Boyne|7195|John Boyne|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1591950120p2/7195.jpg] delivers an extraordinary character study delving so far into the antihero main character, Maurice Swift, that I came away feeling both awed by the product and oily with residual grime from Swift. Boyne is a master here, conducting the frog into the water and then gradually turning up the heat. The genius here is found in the way we get to know Maurice Swift. Little, gentle introductions. First through others’ eyes, one rung at a time, before we emerge into the attic space that is Maurice's mind.
First rung, first-person with Erich Ackermann.
The story opens through the eyes of author Erich Ackermann. It is 1988 and Erich meets Maurice Swift, a young waiter at the Savoy in West Berlin, and a precarious friendship is founded. Erich is taken with Maurice, and he soon invites Maurice on his European book tour with him to act as companion and assistant. Erich is a lonely man and through his thoughts and emotions, we are slowly introduced to Maurice — a young man who desperately wants to appear to simply be an eager would-be writer, but whose very aura suggests an undercurrent that would make Svengali envious.
Second rung, third-person with [a:Gore Vidal|5657|Gore Vidal|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1400912972p2/5657.jpg].
Maurice is now a traveling companion to another successful author, Dash Hardy, with whom a relationship of some kind has developed off-page. Dash fashions himself as a mentor for Maurice, and the two authors are coming for a visit to Vidal's home on the Amalfi Coast. This narration provides some of the best insight into the character of Maurice Swift. Vidal's observations are keen and sharp (as one would expect), cutting into Maurice in a way that set up my feelings and expectations for the rest of the novel. His awareness of Maurice's generally successful attempts at manipulation and his self-awareness of his own attractiveness — to both men and women — barely scratches the surface of what Boyne brings to this novel.
Third rung, second-person with Edith Camberley, Maurice's wife.
A wonderfully inspired use of second-person narration, Boyne uses Swift's wife to speak directly to Maurice and cover the course of their relationship. When it begins, it's the early 2000's and they've been married for roughly five years. Edith is also an author and, after the success of her first novel Fear, is teaching at a university in Norwich while working on her second. As you climb this segment, the anticipation is at its peak because of the past tense coupled with the second-person narrative. Edith is addressing Maurice from some point in the future, and we see how Maurice, the young man, has transformed into Maurice, the adult. He is every point he was earlier, but honed into a fascinating display of manipulation, cunning charm, and a sardonic mind, brandished at will and at his most controlled.
Fourth rung, third-person with Maurice Swift.
After the brilliance of Part II with Edith, we have finally earned a spot at the table narrated by Maurice. The reader is still held at bay with third-person, but we are (at last!) privy to some of his thoughts and feelings. This section deals mainly with Maurice as a father and his relationship with his son. Way back when Maurice first met Erich, Dash, and Gore, they all in turn were told that second on Maurice's life fulfillment list was to have a child. Here, Maurice's dreams are at maximum achievement. He runs a successful quarterly magazine, Storī, and he has his child Daniel, who is seven years old here.
With Maurice now, instead of insight from others' perspectives, the reader must garner what can be picked up from Maurice's conversations with various people along the way. From a young author, to Daniel's principal, and with Daniel, as well. We also finally see into Maurice's past — albeit via a flashback that is triggered by an abacus, but a tale of the beginning of the man that is Maurice Swift.
Fifth and final rung, first-person with Maurice Swift.
The attic door is opened now and the real Maurice Swift is revealed. It's a dirty and dank place with Swift existing as a functioning alcoholic. I honestly hesitate to call him an antihero, because I really was hoping for and anticipating his outing as a fraud. Most antiheroes evoke a sense of hope and cheer despite lacking the typical characters of a hero. I really was rooting for Maurice's ultimate downfall throughout the book. I sympathized with him at times, and identified with some aspects of his character, but ultimately I really, quite simply, hated him. However, I cannot deny his characterization was so fully fleshed out and nuanced that if he came and tapped me on the shoulder it wouldn't have been shocking — terrifying maybe, but not unbelievable.
The brilliance of the novel is in this one character, and he carries the story with villainess ease. If A Ladder to the Sky is any indication of Boyne's body of work, I need to add his books to my to-read list. This was immersive, subtly executed, and exceptional — I recommend this fully.
I received this book for free from the publisher via Penguin Random House's First to Read program in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book, nor the content of my review.
...
"That it's like setting a ladder to the sky. A pointless waste of energy."
[a:John Boyne|7195|John Boyne|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1591950120p2/7195.jpg] delivers an extraordinary character study delving so far into the antihero main character, Maurice Swift, that I came away feeling both awed by the product and oily with residual grime from Swift. Boyne is a master here, conducting the frog into the water and then gradually turning up the heat. The genius here is found in the way we get to know Maurice Swift. Little, gentle introductions. First through others’ eyes, one rung at a time, before we emerge into the attic space that is Maurice's mind.
First rung, first-person with Erich Ackermann.
The story opens through the eyes of author Erich Ackermann. It is 1988 and Erich meets Maurice Swift, a young waiter at the Savoy in West Berlin, and a precarious friendship is founded. Erich is taken with Maurice, and he soon invites Maurice on his European book tour with him to act as companion and assistant. Erich is a lonely man and through his thoughts and emotions, we are slowly introduced to Maurice — a young man who desperately wants to appear to simply be an eager would-be writer, but whose very aura suggests an undercurrent that would make Svengali envious.
Second rung, third-person with [a:Gore Vidal|5657|Gore Vidal|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1400912972p2/5657.jpg].
Maurice is now a traveling companion to another successful author, Dash Hardy, with whom a relationship of some kind has developed off-page. Dash fashions himself as a mentor for Maurice, and the two authors are coming for a visit to Vidal's home on the Amalfi Coast. This narration provides some of the best insight into the character of Maurice Swift. Vidal's observations are keen and sharp (as one would expect), cutting into Maurice in a way that set up my feelings and expectations for the rest of the novel. His awareness of Maurice's generally successful attempts at manipulation and his self-awareness of his own attractiveness — to both men and women — barely scratches the surface of what Boyne brings to this novel.
Third rung, second-person with Edith Camberley, Maurice's wife.
A wonderfully inspired use of second-person narration, Boyne uses Swift's wife to speak directly to Maurice and cover the course of their relationship. When it begins, it's the early 2000's and they've been married for roughly five years. Edith is also an author and, after the success of her first novel Fear, is teaching at a university in Norwich while working on her second. As you climb this segment, the anticipation is at its peak because of the past tense coupled with the second-person narrative. Edith is addressing Maurice from some point in the future, and we see how Maurice, the young man, has transformed into Maurice, the adult. He is every point he was earlier, but honed into a fascinating display of manipulation, cunning charm, and a sardonic mind, brandished at will and at his most controlled.
Fourth rung, third-person with Maurice Swift.
After the brilliance of Part II with Edith, we have finally earned a spot at the table narrated by Maurice. The reader is still held at bay with third-person, but we are (at last!) privy to some of his thoughts and feelings. This section deals mainly with Maurice as a father and his relationship with his son. Way back when Maurice first met Erich, Dash, and Gore, they all in turn were told that second on Maurice's life fulfillment list was to have a child. Here, Maurice's dreams are at maximum achievement. He runs a successful quarterly magazine, Storī, and he has his child Daniel, who is seven years old here.
With Maurice now, instead of insight from others' perspectives, the reader must garner what can be picked up from Maurice's conversations with various people along the way. From a young author, to Daniel's principal, and with Daniel, as well. We also finally see into Maurice's past — albeit via a flashback that is triggered by an abacus, but a tale of the beginning of the man that is Maurice Swift.
Fifth and final rung, first-person with Maurice Swift.
The attic door is opened now and the real Maurice Swift is revealed. It's a dirty and dank place with Swift existing as a functioning alcoholic. I honestly hesitate to call him an antihero, because I really was hoping for and anticipating his outing as a fraud. Most antiheroes evoke a sense of hope and cheer despite lacking the typical characters of a hero. I really was rooting for Maurice's ultimate downfall throughout the book. I sympathized with him at times, and identified with some aspects of his character, but ultimately I really, quite simply, hated him. However, I cannot deny his characterization was so fully fleshed out and nuanced that if he came and tapped me on the shoulder it wouldn't have been shocking — terrifying maybe, but not unbelievable.
The brilliance of the novel is in this one character, and he carries the story with villainess ease. If A Ladder to the Sky is any indication of Boyne's body of work, I need to add his books to my to-read list. This was immersive, subtly executed, and exceptional — I recommend this fully.
I received this book for free from the publisher via Penguin Random House's First to Read program in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book, nor the content of my review.