I believe the enjoyment of this novel will be directly proportionate to how much the reader of it loves words. Which is to say that in a purely narrative manner, this book might leave something to be desired – its pacing is quite languorous, its protagonist is somewhat lackadaisical and vague in her motivations and yet, from the purely linguistic perspective the Liar’s Dictionary sings. It just isn’t the sort of song that everyone might be attuned to.
You get the exact idea for what sort of narrative this’ll be from the first chapter, which is a long and lovely letter to dictionaries, contemplating a perfect one for you. From there, the novel does acquire a more conventional alternating timeline narrative structure, with a woman in the present day working as an assistant tom a man desperately trying to uphold his family’s’ legacy by completing the long-ago abandoned dictionary project and a man in a distant past working for the same dictionary company albeit in its earlier more prestigious years, who, out of personal frustrations and disappointments, gets, shall we say, creative with his word entries. There’s a word for that…Mountweasels. Isn’t that great? Mountweasels are incorrect entries planted into a dictionary (or at atlas or some other sort of catalog). The present-day protagonist’s job is hunting those down, while also dealing with regularly phoned in death threats. The entire thing gets resolved in a surprisingly explosive manner for such a quiet production. And there you have it, a love song to dictionaries, words, and word lovers. Quite a lovely song if you get into it. It worked for me – I love words. Words and all the magical things you can do with them. I didn’t necessarily love the protagonists. The main one didn’t have much of a character except that she was inexplicably in the closet. And yes, for a young person in this day and age, living in a city as progressive as London and having parents who she admits would be ok with her being gay and a girlfriend who is strikingly patient about all of this, it’s inexplicable (and kind of sad) why someone would choose to remain in the closet. It’s never really properly explained, except that you get the idea she is a genuinely reticent and ambivalent sort of a person. And the other guy, sad in his own way, is something of a milquetoast. But that aside, fun was still had. It’s just too clever, too erudite, too splendidly vibrant in its displays of verbose virtuosity of a book not to enjoy. Plus, a surprisingly quick read. Recommended.
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December 2023
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