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A review by chrissie_whitley
The Editor by Steven Rowley
5.0
Deeply moving, The Editor is a pilgrimage to visit and remember the women in our lives, in our history, and in our stories. Rowley has crafted an intense and poignant novel that feels immensely personal.
James Smale, a New York writer publishing his first novel, strikes up a fantastically surreal working relationship with his editor at Doubleday, Jackie Kennedy Onassis. What follows immediately after first meeting her, is a sweetly comic period of time with James as real and relatable as both the reader and James get accustomed to the idea that Jackie O is editing his book and will have a role in The Editor.
Rowley handles her placement in the book absolutely perfectly. Jackie isn’t just a prop, but she’s also not a main character—in the best and most honest and amazing way. It is James’s story, after all. Jackie is there like a ghost, a corporeal spirit. She’s an energy, a truth, pushing James and guiding him into the future.
Ms. Onassis is also incredibly developed as a character, not just the way she is written, but the way she is constructed within the novel itself. She’s not magic, she’s not all-knowing, she’s not a substitute mother. She’s more Jiminy Cricket than Blue Fairy. But more than that still. She’s all of the roles of significance, of importance, of forward motion. She’s that teacher, pushing you to achieve. She’s a mentor, bringing forth your best. She’s the mother, carefully tending your wounds. She’s the grandmother, distant enough by just one generation to see you as an individual person. She’s not all these things to James, but she is all these at once. She’s that kind of a person; she fulfills that kind of role. She’s deeply entrenched in this story, not because she’s Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, but because she’s written as a living, breathing woman. She’s a powerhouse representation of the many facets of women. Both amazingly complex, and brilliantly simple. Her role is streamlined to perfection.
The book is told from the first person perspective of James in the most intimate way. Most of the book is in the present day for the story (1992-1994), interspersed with flashbacks from James's childhood. A brilliant time-line mash-up in the most surprisingly cohesive order. What at first seems random and anecdotal, actually proves to be a purposeful collection. These flashbacks are rather more like precise pieces of a puzzle; the pieces that hold up and back the rest of the book. In the gold standard, these memories are the ingots.
The writing itself is stunningly beautiful...both easy and sublime. There's a reveal for James about halfway through that you can probably see coming, but I know I felt that my breath was on hold as it was delivered. This is already slated to be a movie and I hope it plays out just as brilliantly on the screen as it does on these pages.
The story unfolds as we stay with James as he scratches away the outer layer of himself so that he may finally achieve the end goal of properly writing his book—with his editor. There's just so much to say and so much for James to do, I found myself unable to step away from the book. In fact, as I watched the page numbers tick upward, and James continues his journey, I remember wondering, as the gap between current page and end page began to close, "How can this book have sixty pages left?" Not because there’s a feeling of finality before it’s over, but because it felt like it was still churning.
Where is this book going? Not out of disbelief, but out of wonder. And then it hit me. It’s so perfectly round, so brilliantly structured and inline with the book within this book. The ending is coming. And just like any wonderful book, the ending leaves you with an open hopefulness about how the story continues on beyond the last page.
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.
James Smale, a New York writer publishing his first novel, strikes up a fantastically surreal working relationship with his editor at Doubleday, Jackie Kennedy Onassis. What follows immediately after first meeting her, is a sweetly comic period of time with James as real and relatable as both the reader and James get accustomed to the idea that Jackie O is editing his book and will have a role in The Editor.
Rowley handles her placement in the book absolutely perfectly. Jackie isn’t just a prop, but she’s also not a main character—in the best and most honest and amazing way. It is James’s story, after all. Jackie is there like a ghost, a corporeal spirit. She’s an energy, a truth, pushing James and guiding him into the future.
Ms. Onassis is also incredibly developed as a character, not just the way she is written, but the way she is constructed within the novel itself. She’s not magic, she’s not all-knowing, she’s not a substitute mother. She’s more Jiminy Cricket than Blue Fairy. But more than that still. She’s all of the roles of significance, of importance, of forward motion. She’s that teacher, pushing you to achieve. She’s a mentor, bringing forth your best. She’s the mother, carefully tending your wounds. She’s the grandmother, distant enough by just one generation to see you as an individual person. She’s not all these things to James, but she is all these at once. She’s that kind of a person; she fulfills that kind of role. She’s deeply entrenched in this story, not because she’s Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, but because she’s written as a living, breathing woman. She’s a powerhouse representation of the many facets of women. Both amazingly complex, and brilliantly simple. Her role is streamlined to perfection.
The book is told from the first person perspective of James in the most intimate way. Most of the book is in the present day for the story (1992-1994), interspersed with flashbacks from James's childhood. A brilliant time-line mash-up in the most surprisingly cohesive order. What at first seems random and anecdotal, actually proves to be a purposeful collection. These flashbacks are rather more like precise pieces of a puzzle; the pieces that hold up and back the rest of the book. In the gold standard, these memories are the ingots.
The writing itself is stunningly beautiful...both easy and sublime. There's a reveal for James about halfway through that you can probably see coming, but I know I felt that my breath was on hold as it was delivered. This is already slated to be a movie and I hope it plays out just as brilliantly on the screen as it does on these pages.
The story unfolds as we stay with James as he scratches away the outer layer of himself so that he may finally achieve the end goal of properly writing his book—with his editor. There's just so much to say and so much for James to do, I found myself unable to step away from the book. In fact, as I watched the page numbers tick upward, and James continues his journey, I remember wondering, as the gap between current page and end page began to close, "How can this book have sixty pages left?" Not because there’s a feeling of finality before it’s over, but because it felt like it was still churning.
Where is this book going? Not out of disbelief, but out of wonder. And then it hit me. It’s so perfectly round, so brilliantly structured and inline with the book within this book. The ending is coming. And just like any wonderful book, the ending leaves you with an open hopefulness about how the story continues on beyond the last page.
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.