The last thing I want to feel about a 464-page novel after I finish it is lukewarm. Sadly, though, that was my general impression of Zadie Smith's latest offering.
Before I begin, it helps to know that The Fraud is comprised of three main storylines: the story of Eliza Touchet, a widow, and her life with her cousin-by-marriage and writer William Ainsworth; the Tichborne trial, a wildly popular case wherein a man claimed that he was, in fact, the long presumed-dead baronet Sir Roger Tichborne; and the story of the life of Andrew Bogle, a formerly enslaved man who was one of the witnesses in the Tichborne trial.
With that in mind, I'll start with the positives: Smith's writing is great, and I generally enjoyed Eliza as a protagonist. At almost 70 years old, her education and life experiences make her a compelling point-of-view to follow, especially when it comes to some of the themes that the novel is trying to explore: freedom, justice, activism, love. Eliza is strongly on the side of abolitionism, having spent many years attending meetings and consuming resources on the matter; that she is an ally to and proponent of this cause is something she takes to be a key part of herself and her values. And yet, in several key scenes throughout the novel, Smith deftly unsettles this simple narrative that Eliza has built for herself: moments of tension, of discomfort, where Eliza doesn't quite live up to her ideals, where she is distinctly confronted and unsettled by her privilege (particularly her class and racial privilege).
So much for the positives; the negatives, on the other hand, I have a lot more to say about. I started off by saying that The Fraud is comprised of three storylines because this is, in my view, one of its fundamental problems as a novel: though technically connected, the storylines are disparate, and none of them feel like they particularly go anywhere. Each of these narratives feels like it exists discretely of the others: the Eliza-and-William storyline mostly consists of meetings with the famous literary men of the time (Dickens, Thackeray, etc.); the Tichborne storyline is, of course, focused on the trial itself; and the Bogle storyline is a separate chunk introduced halfway through into the book and then concluded about 70 pages later. The Eliza parts and the trial parts alternate, seemingly without rhyme or reason, so that you go from one chapter set in the present timeline during the Tichborne trial only to be thrust into a chapter set 20 years earlier where Eliza and William are hosting some random dinner, visiting someone, talking about something, etc. The whole structure of the novel feels confused, its story so sorely lacking cohesion that I felt like I was reading 3 separate books rather than one novel.
Another issue is that The Fraud has zero narrative momentum. At 464 pages, it is a longer novel, and as a longer novel, it is all the more important for it to be able to keep the narrative moving, to sustain interest for the entire course of its story--and this was just not the case here. With the exception of the Tichborne trial story, most of the novel's story is just...told to us: the Eliza storyline and the Bogle storyline are both in the past, both stories that have already happened and that are simply being recollected by their respective narrators. And I am just not the kind of reader who likes this style of storytelling: I would much rather read about the characters living through something than them telling me about something that they've already lived through. On top of this, the novel's chapters are so short that it makes it virtually impossible to be immersed in these recollected narratives: most chapters are only a couple of pages long, and most of them follow a discrete event (a dinner, a visit, a walk, a conversation) rather than carrying over events from the previous chapter(s). The storytelling just altogether feels too sequential: this happened, then this happened, then this happened, and then here I am. It's too inert, not dynamic enough, lacking climactic moments, drama, narrative intrigue.
Lastly, though The Fraud is clearly a heavily researched novel, it is also one whose research overtakes its narrative. More often than not, the research doesn't enrich or enliven the story so much as pad it out. There is just so much information in this novel, and in the absence of some kind of propulsive force to keep the narrative moving, it makes the novel feel bloated: it gets tiring, after a while, to keep track of so many names and places and histories and events.
As I'm writing this, I'm realizing that "tiring" is exactly the right word to characterize my experience of reading The Fraud. It's a novel that asks an investment of its reader that it does not reward that reader for: after the many pages of storylines, even after following so many characters over so many years and so many changes and so many places, it somehow feels like nothing really happens in this book. I picked it up; I read it; I finished it. Did I love it? No. Did I like it? Not really. It was just a book that I read--and for a book that is this long, that is this expansive, that is grappling with such interesting themes and such a rich historical period, that is just extremely disappointing.