Contemporary Author: Glen Duncan

In my googlings I came across a review for Duncan’s latest “literary thriller” A Day and a Night and a Day. I figured I would give it a try. Let’s just say many consecutive nails hit their mark and I would recommend it without hesitation to anybody. The title refers to two periods of time: the amount of time the main character is tortured as a terrorist in a Guantanamo-like setting as well as another incident later revealed that explains how he got there. One catch: it is an American torturing an American. I liked the explicit philosophizing, more a series of monologues from the inquisitor on a kind of cynical postmodern nihilism that is not without intelligence and relevance. Two of the novel’s tripartite plot lines alternate between the interrogation and the tortured man’s inner recollections of his life that brought him to this point. How a man can go from point A to a far off point B. I’ve read reviews that find fault with the cheesy-at-times boy meets girl back story, comparing it to lesser genres, but I thought the author’s superior prose compensated. I don’t read many love stories more convincing or unconvincing than others so I just take them for what they are. I would consider rereading just those delightful, half tongue-in-cheek philosophy sections. Thinking I had found a new Favorite Author I went backward from this most recent of Duncan’s, reading The Bloodstone Papers which was okay. I generally wouldn’t want to judge a book based on my ability to “relate” to the characters and setting, but I’ve found that exact issue getting in my way of enjoying Salman Rushdie to the degree I feel I’m supposed to. Duncan is an Anglo-Indian writer as well. When they write about a contemporary Anglo-Indian living in present day Britain I can enjoy it, but when they are in India my mind fogs over with cultural distance. Perhaps it is that thing I have about reading in order to find what I would write? The Bloodstone Papers is a contrast of generations interspersed with the protagonist’s modern woes over his love life and life in general. It was pretty good. It was okay. So then I started the next one: Death of an Ordinary Man and I couldn’t take it within twenty pages, it was horrible, and I stopped reading it and Duncan at that point. Generally it was about a dead man floating above his own funeral and family and reflecting on blah blah blah… What a disappointment. I felt like a chump who got sucked in by the particular subject matter of the first book I read and assumed the author was an overlooked gem. But I’ll be sure to check out his next book and finalize my verdict based on that.