Outline (revisited)

 Outline by Rachel Cusk is one of the greatest books I've ever read. I first read it in 2019 and it topped the Kammerzelt list of the best books of the 21st Century. Because it's short and I enjoy rereads, I revisited again this past week. Now, with the rest of the trilogy in mind (and more of Cusk's work, and more life experience), the novel happily holds up as a paragon of craft and narrative. Its conceit is simple: the narrator reveals almost nothing about herself, as other characters provide the "outline" of her through their dialogue, presenting a "corresponding negative" or "anti-description." And yet the cohesivity of Outline and its two sequels, Transit and Kudos, are almost impossible to pull off. It feels, immediately, like a work of crystalline genius. Its very structure comments on its exploration of nihilism, dislocation, meaninglessness, and alienation. Somehow, it's beautiful and inviting throughout, while being on a knife's edge on every page.

I remember being dazzled by the novel the first time I read it, so I missed a minor lag in verisimilitude that became clear this time. The conversations are in some ways too brilliant. I accept that the narrator is eloquent and thoughtful. But it seems that everyone around her becomes just as reflective when they speak with her, and it was difficult to imagine this many real people speaking this way. I can contrast Outline with another of my favorite novels, The Sun Also Rises. There, the characters are often drunk, profane, unintelligible, inarticulate. Here, even deeply unsympathetic people were often measured, wise, and writerly, and it was a pleasure to read but I didn't buy all of it. This is a minor issue in this great book of ideas. It does not inhibit the experience, and I will soon return to Outline and its sequels.