Trust Exercise by Susan Choi
Published by Henry Holt & Company
Publication date: April 9, 2019
Susan Choi’s new novel, Trust Exercise is a polarizing book, with Goodreads reviews divided between 1 star and 5. That can be a good thing or a bad thing. I decided to hope for good, because the story is about teens attending a dramatic arts school, which sounds like The Ensemble, a novel I loved. Did my hopes pan out? Or did I wish I could have back the hours I spent reading the novel? Let’s see…
I’m a book blogger who plays by the rules. I don’t publish reviews of books months before they come out and I don’t put spoilers in my reviews. I’m making an exception for Trust Exercise, because I have so much to say. If you have any desire to read this book STOP reading right now. Come back after you finish and feel free to weigh in with your thoughts.
The premise of Trust Exercise seems straightforward. A group of teens attending a prestigious arts high school in the South in the early 1980s. Two of them, David and Sarah, fall in love and then, very badly, as only 15-year olds can do, fall out of love. Their drama teacher is the charismatic Mr. Kingsley who encourages the personal drama between all of them and especially between David and Sarah. This continues throughout high school until a summer when everything falls apart after an unsupervised party at Kingsley’s home. Fade to black.
Here’s what you need to know so far. This was Part One of Trust Exercise. It lasts for almost 175 pages…as one long chapter with few paragraphs and a multitude of descriptors. A plethora of words, of which only half are needed to get the point across.
Part Two begins with a narrator named “Karen”—and yes, she is designated in quotes because that is not her real name. What follows, after an interminable explanation from Karen about Karen is probably the key reason Trust Exercise is getting 5 stars from some readers, because it is damn clever. Part One is fictitious. Part Two is the present day and Karen is going to debunk every single aspect of the lies and misdirection in Part One. This is a great idea. Very meta. I won’t be a complete bitch and reveal who the author is, but it’s someone we met in Part One.
Here’s what you need to know about Part Two: it’s told in the 3rd person (Karen) but with sudden interjections in the 1st person. Huh? Still no chapters and numerous paragraphs like this one:
Many words are both nouns and verbs. Present/present. Insult/insult. Object/object. Permit/permit. A list of such words, compiled for the business traveler not fluent in English, is pinned to my bulletin board. It’s meant to illustrate not just the words’ versatility but the fact that in each word the emphasis shifts the same way, from first syllable to the second…
A grammar lesson? Really? Why do I care? It’s been made abundantly clear that Karen feels wronged by Part One and Part Two is going to be her retribution, but this word slog crushes any potential fun and enjoyment in the prospect. The only redeeming factor in Part Two is the final sentence. One sentence, after pages and pages of mind-numbing rhetoric. But it’s a beauty. The kind of thing you’d want to toss off at someone who’d wronged you after you’d come back and destroyed them.
But wait, there’s more! Yes, a Part Three, but it is extraneous, except to wrap up an earlier plot point. I’ll leave it at that.
There’s a point when ambition becomes grandiosity and rather than drawing the reader in, it pushes them away. Choi leaves that point in the distance with what feels like her delight in her own intelligence—something I’m willing to concede to her. She may be smarter than me, but this much verbiage becomes a weapon and defeats the purpose of great fiction. The meaning and the reader are bludgeoned to death. There was a kernel of a fascinating plot twist in Trust Exercise, but ultimately, this was an exercise in trust that did not pay off for me.
Susie | Novel Visits says
Great review, Catherine. I so appreciate you being honest and not sugar coating your thoughts. This book had so much prepublication buzz and I think we all had high hopes for it, but you’re right that it was such a word slog. I’m feeling very good about quitting on in, though the whole Kare thing has me curious. We’ll need to talk!
Catherine says
It had promise and touched on important themes, but she covered it in so much wasted verbiage. As if she were trying to prove how smart she is.
Kristin says
Did you hear this on NPR? https://www.npr.org/2019/04/09/711491267/susan-choi-takes-her-teenagers-seriously
Catherine says
No, but I will. I know the book has gotten rave reviews from all the big publications, but however important the themes in the novel may have been, they were completely lost in the format and style. I felt this book was written for the critics and not the readers. I should have DNFed it.
Lauren O'Brien says
I mean this in the best possible way and I’m sure it’s because I’m a f’ing curmudgeon, but I love your reviews of things that don’t sit right with you. But the problem is they often make me want to read the damn book to see what you saw and how I feel about it. Maybe no more so than with this one, which was on my list of things to check out. I usually don’t read reviews before I’ve read something, but I did this time because (1) I was on the fence about it and (2) IT WAS JUST TOO MUCH TO RESIST. Sorry it didn’t work for you, but thank you for writing about it. 🙂
Catherine says
I get it! I think the same thing about negative reviews by others. They’re not easy to write, though, and I worry about blowback from publishers, but this one just burned me. The tone and so much rhetoric felt condescending. I don’t think it’s a long book (it just felt interminable) so read it and let me know what you think. I know Shannon (used to have River City reading blog) is calling it a best book of the year so far.
Lauren O'Brien says
I saw Shannon’s contrary thoughts, which make me all the more curious. To be honest, sometimes negative reviews make me more curious about a work than a glowing review. Something that someone else found pushed their boundaries too far or was otherwise not working, but they can provide great examples as to why, make me more inclined to check something out. Because I know it’s real. A glow is a glow is a glow. Not that I discount them entirely, but you know what I mean. This is a much harder review to write. So since you’ve piqued my curiosity more than squelched it, publishers should have no problem with it. People talking about things is the key, I think, whether we’re disagreeing or not. (But I’ve had a limincello and soda, so this may all be a big, incoherent ramble). Have you been to Seattle Glassybaby? Holy shit that place (I go to the studio in Berkeley) is awesome but so not awesome. I had a free “styling” appointment with Julie at our local studio today and we had SO much fun.
Catherine says
All good points, whether limincello induced or not! I’ve seen Glassybaby in the airport and in Old Ballard but have never gone in. They’re stuff looks gorgeous, but I’m afraid I’d buy and I’m really trying to streamline now.
The Cue Card says
I dont think I completely understood what all was going on in this novel: the real vs. fictitious etc. Particularly the change in 1st & 3rd person narrative made me scratch my head. I read the story mainly at face value and it’s not exactly easy without hardly any paragraph breaks or chapters etc. I think I gave it 3.5 stars but it’s more like 3. She writes about freaky or icky things & people in high school well I thought. The trust exercises — the teacher made the students do — I found disturbing. The whole thing was rather harsh and unsettling / the power & MeToo moments. I need a palette cleanser after this one …. something easy too.
Catherine says
I agree about the #MeToo, but felt that was buried under all the other stories. The whole thing just made me angry because aspects were clever, but she seemed so determined to show off her literary storytelling skills.