SlowRain reviewed My Life as a Fake by Peter Carey
Review of 'My Life as a Fake' on Goodreads
4 stars
A British editor of a poetry magazine meets an Australian expatriate in Kuala Lumpur in 1972. Infamous for a hoax on a poetry periodical back in Australia, he shows the British editor an astounding poem with the promise of more to come--and a difficult-to-believe story to go along with it.
Interestingly, this was the novel that first made me aware of Peter Carey several years ago. However, it's only now that I'm getting around to reading it, after reading a few of his others first. True to form, the story is engaging, intricate, and well-written.
The format of the novel is mostly a recounting of the British editor's conversations with the Australian poet. As such, there is a lot of dialog. That works well, since we're not reading fact, we're hearing one man's account. It lends an air of incredulity to everything that is said, and it keeps readers on …
A British editor of a poetry magazine meets an Australian expatriate in Kuala Lumpur in 1972. Infamous for a hoax on a poetry periodical back in Australia, he shows the British editor an astounding poem with the promise of more to come--and a difficult-to-believe story to go along with it.
Interestingly, this was the novel that first made me aware of Peter Carey several years ago. However, it's only now that I'm getting around to reading it, after reading a few of his others first. True to form, the story is engaging, intricate, and well-written.
The format of the novel is mostly a recounting of the British editor's conversations with the Australian poet. As such, there is a lot of dialog. That works well, since we're not reading fact, we're hearing one man's account. It lends an air of incredulity to everything that is said, and it keeps readers on their toes, which is half of the fun.
The other half of the fun is that this novel works as a discussion of art and artists. What are the unintended consequences of creating art? Can the art (the creation) ever overshadow the artist (the creator)? Can the art dominate the artist? Can fans distinguish between the artist and the art and choose between them? Should they? Does the artist ever wish they hadn't created the art? Can the artist erase the memory of the art? Does art have to be honest? Can something fake be better than that with purer pedigree? Can art be private and personal, or are we obliged to share it?
My only complaints about the novel are some heavy-handed hints of intrigue to keep readers interested (If only I had known what would happen next...) and the ending was too conclusive. For a novel that raised a lot of questions and kept the reader constantly guessing, it wrapped everything up a little too nicely at the end. It would have been best if we been left to wonder a little bit more after we had finished reading.
It's a good read, and I recommend it. I especially appreciated it as I hadn't read a good book in a while. If you enjoy this novel and are looking for something similar, you could always try Carey's own Theft, and also The Book of Illusions by Paul Auster. You could also try Fury by Salman Rushdie, but that one loses the plot in the last quarter.
