Pub. Date: 08/03/2018
Publisher: Headline; Tinder Press
It's 1969, and holed up in a grimy tenement building in New York's Lower East Side is a travelling psychic who claims to be able to tell anyone the date they will die. The four Gold children, too young for what they're about to hear, sneak out to learn their fortunes.
Such prophecies could be dismissed as trickery and nonsense, yet the Golds bury theirs deep. Over the years that follow they attempt to ignore, embrace, cheat and defy the 'knowledge' given to them that day - but it will shape the course of their lives forever.
What would you do if you knew the exact day you were going to die? This question has been asked by many a teenager during a half casual. half philosophical conversation with friends, and is usually followed by the equally deep 'If you had to choose between fighting a horse-sized duck or 100 duck-sized horses, what would it be?'. But just because it's something everyone has thought about at least once doesn't mean that it isn't worth revisiting. The question of death is also, in many ways, a question about life. If you knew you had 20 years left, how would you spend them? Suddenly you're thinking about family, love, work, happiness, loss, everything that makes a life feel lived. There is no one template for a happy and fulfilled life, but the same is true for an unhappy life. Many novels have explored both the happy and unhappy among us, judged characters for their sins and praised them for their virtues, cried over their misfortunes and rejoiced with them in their victories. Since neither novelists or readers can stop pondering over what makes life and what makes death, we continue to receive novel upon novel exploring, or trying to, the full human experience. The reason I love reading these kinds of books is because in every character I read about I find something reflected that I recognise, about myself, about a friend, a family member. These kinds of novels, at least for me, enrich me experience of life.
In The Immortalists Chloe Benjamin takes an interesting approach to telling the stories of the four Gold children. Initially, in the beginning of the book during their childhood, the novel switches between their narratives, but once adulthood, or rather teenagehood for some, kicks in, Benjamin neatly divides her book into four sections, all narrated by a different sibling, one story following the other. At first I wanted more back and forth, see how the different sibling were coping at the same time with the same events, but there is something ingenious about this split because it echoes the separation of the Gold siblings as they grow up. Not only are most of them physically removed from each other, there is also a mental block between them that means each of them lives their life at a slight remove from the others. It's heartbreaking, but it also allows the reader to really focus on one sibling at a time. The Gold siblings go down very different routes in their lives and so every narrative is filled with both joy and crushing sadness. Benjamin addresses animal testing, HIV, alcoholism, mental health and so much more in The Immortalists but it never feels exploitative. Rather these are things her characters have to deal with, have to confront in one way or another. Throughout the novel there is one thing that stays standing, for better or for worse, a constant presence in all her characters' lives and that is family.
It took me a while to get into The Immortalists. I didn't know what to expect. Would this book gives us something supernatural, would Benjamin infuse the lives of the Golds with Magical Realism? The answer to both of those questions is no. And yet I found myself consistently fascinated by the different roads Benjamin travelled in her novel.Throughout The Immortalists Benjamin sticks largely to the real, the tangible, the felt realities of life. Yet especially in the chapters dedicated to Klara, she allows the magic of faith and belief to shine through. There are some stunning moments in this novel of pure sadness and love that feel magical in their own way. The Immortalists isn't a happy book per se, but each of her characters' lives is described with such gentle honesty by Benjamin that you can't help but get sucked in. Benjamin doesn't shy away from revealing the darker side of her characters, and this can definitely take some readers by surprise, but by following them down the rabbit hole she can also show us the moments of joy and beauty that occur in every life. Despite all its tragedy, The Immortalists is also a love letter for its own kind to the beauty of a human life.
I give this novel...
I took my time with The Immortalists but every time I put it down I found myself thinking about it, curious where it would go, what would happen if I kept reading. And so I kept returning to Benjamin's characters. It's a thoughtful book, one that will make you both sad and quietly joyous at the same time. I'd definitely recommend this to fans of Literary and even Philosophical Fiction.