This is the first time (so far as I can recall!) that I've left an unstarred review on Goodreads. I read (or rather, listened to) Susan Rieger's The Divorce Papers as an audio book. I am fairly new to audio books, but usually, I do not find the difference noteworthy. In the case of The Divorce Papers, however, I suspect the fact I listened rather than read drastically impacted upon my appreciation of the novel. For this reason, my review reflects mainly upon the nature of the novel as an audio book, and is likely irrelevant to anyone considering the print version.
As the title suggests, The Divorce Papers is an epistolary novel, presented in the form of the various papers (legal forms, memoranda, emails, etc.) produced over the course of a drawn-out divorce case.
I enjoy both epistolary novels and audio books, however, after listening to this one, I'm not sure the combination works.
And it's not because the audio book is poorly produced or narrated - in fact, the 'selection of narrators' have been well chosen, giving each of the cast of characters a distinct, memorable voice.
Nor is it because large chunks of the book consist of legal statutes or the financial statements and divorce settlement offers passed back and forward between the divorcing couples’ lawyers. While these would have been much easier to read in print (especially the financial statements, which are packed with large numbers that may make the heads of less financially well-off listeners such as myself spin), they are generally well-summarised either before or after their presentation. Although listening to this minutia can be tedious at times, I believe it is handled about as well as it could be in the narrative.
Rather, the big issue for me is that when reading a book of letters or emails or chat conversations, I tend to skim over the header information. Once I know who is writing to whom, and roughly when in the overall series of events, that's all I need to know. I prefer to spend my time focusing on the content of the messages.
A well formatted epistolary novel allows the reader to become familiar with, for example, the letterhead of one attorney, and tell at a glance who is writing, in much the same way that the distinct voices in this audio book should (and do) allow us tell us who is speaking, quite aside from the author's skill in crafting dialogue that sounds true to individual characters.
In the audio version of The Divorce Papers, however, every. single. piece. of. information. is. read. out, every. single. time. This gets repetitive quickly, as there is no way for the listener to effectively skim the information (Yes, you can skip forward, but because the useful information (such as who something is being written to) is embedded within the other stuff, and this isn't always made clear within the correspondence itself, you'll miss it. Yes, you can listen on double speed (which I did for the entire book as it was so long, and I found the reading speed very slow) but that doesn't fix the issues of pacing).
What do I mean by issues of pacing?
For one piece of correspondence I sampled at random, it took the reader 35 seconds to read this header information. And then 15 seconds to read the actual content of the message.
Not every segment of the book was quite as unbalanced as this, but there were many sections in which as much or more time was spent reading out these boring details than on the actual content of the message.
How many times do we need to hear 'Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski, New Salem, Narragansett, [Month, Date], Nineteen-ninety-nine, Ray, Kahn, and Boyl'? or 'Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski, New Salem, Narragansett, Memorandum: Attorney work product. From: David Greaves To: Sophie Diehl. RE: [topic] Date: [Month, Date], Nineteen-ninety-nine. Attachments: [Title Month Date], Nineteen-ninety-nine'? Sometimes it felt like I was listening to these tracks on repeat, which is a shame, as it really detracted from Rieger's often vivid and expressive content sandwiched in between.
The main impression I took away from listening to The Divorce Papers was that epistolary novels, perhaps more so than any other kind, require a very different approach for their conversion to audio books.
Rather than simply reading everything that is on a page, treating every bit of text as if it is of equal importance, the producer should, I feel, try to approximate the experience I believe most readers would have. That is, of spending more time on the most interesting and important parts. We all do this, including with the real correspondence in our life.
I can think of several simple ways The Divorce Papers could have been adapted for audio which would have made it a shorter book, but would have, in my view, enhanced, rather than detracted from the listening experience:
* Give the full address of the legal firms only the first time they are used. Do we really need to be reminded that Traynor, Hand and Wyzanski are located in ‘Narragansett, New Salem’ every single time their name is mentioned? Especially when constant references are made to Narragansett statutes and laws, there is little danger we will forget this memorable invented location. Likewise, where both the subject and the opening line are the same, e.g. ‘You won’t believe this’ surely one could be omitted. The audio book listener cannot ‘see’ the format, so it just sounds like the recording is skipping.
* While the year might be important to provide context for Rieger’s choice of media for her to characters to correspond via (there were far more papers and far fewer emails 20 years ago than we might expect today), and including the year does lend an air of authenticity to the format, is it really necessary to specify ‘nineteen-ninety-nine’ every single time the date is given? Especially when the timeline of the entire book takes place within the same year? After the first few uses, surely the month and date would be sufficient, and the reader can be trusted to infer the rest.
* When epistolary novels use text messages, emails, or instant messages that are exchanged rapidly, the hour and minute (or even second) a message is sent or received can be highly relevant to understanding. Congruent with the period in which The Divorce Papers is set, however, there are considerable delays between even the electronic messages sent in the novel. In that case, is it necessary to specify the hour and minute of every memorandum or email? If it is vital for us to know a character is awake late at night, for example, this could be included in the text (‘I can’t sleep’ or ‘What are you doing sending emails at one AM?’)
* Audio books can be difficult to navigate at the best of times, especially if you’re using an imprecise device like a phone. And particularly if the file is very long, and every micro-movement you make along the timeline equates to minutes or more. The usual issues aside, the naming of chapters in The Divorce Papers is inconsistent and confusing. Rather than assigning every single piece of correspondence its own chapter, several are often subsumed under the one heading. This is understandable, or the sheer number of chapters would have been overwhelming. But the names of the chapters are repetitive and not particularly useful. For instance, there are nineteen ‘chapters’ with the identical title ‘Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski, New Salem, Narragansett’.
Unless it is done for some literary effect, I am of the opinion that chapter names should be unique. After all, their primary purpose is to help the reader navigate the work, both in terms of aiding our understanding of what is contained in the chapter, and allowing us to identify where we are up to in the book as a whole.
Chapter titles like these fail on both counts – they neither characterise the content of the chapters (just tell us who wrote the first piece of correspondence in the section), nor do they help us remember where we are up to (you might remember you’re listening to a chapter called ‘Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski, New Salem, Narragansett’, but which one of the nineteen identically titled chapters is it?!)
Given the book is organised in chronological order, not by grouping the correspondence of a single writer into chunks, I believe a more useful approach would have been to name the chapters after chronological periods, for example, July 1-7.
So far as I can tell, there are two reasons why these kinds of (what I would consider common sense) adaptations have not been adopted. Authenticity is one.
Authenticity is, of course, important. But I would not view ‘authenticity' as a reason for future epistolary audio books to take such an approach – on the contrary, I think there are good reasons to believe that including all of the header details, over and over again, detracts from the experience of authenticity. From my previous work as a researcher of online communication, I understand all too well what vital information can be encoded in the headers of emails and other messages, and how these facts can impact on our interpretation of the content contained within. But I also know there is a lot of information that will be repeated every time, and can safely be ignored.
When most of us receive an email, we don’t spend anywhere near as long looking at the header information as we do looking at the content of the email. In fact, this is why many modern email providers like Gmail now hide much of the header information by default.
When I receive an electricity bill, my eyes only briefly skim the company’s name and slogan and the date and address and other sundry information at the top of the page, before spending much longer looking over the actual charges.
What we’re really interested in is the message from our sweetheart, or the amount the electric company is demanding. Not whether it was sent at three minutes past ten or whether the company is still headquartered in the city it’s always been in.
In an audio environment, the listener doesn’t have the ability to choose how long they’ll spend on any given part with anywhere near the sort of flexibility the reader does.
This greatly impacts upon the novel’s pacing, in three ways.
Firstly, in terms of sheer length. The Divorce Papers is close to 14 hours long – almost double the length of the average audio book. I haven’t seen the paperback edition, but I assume, because of the correspondence formatting, it, too, would have been longer than average. But as we all know, the number of pages in a book is only a rough indication of how long it will take to read. Some books are relatively short, yet the language (either in terms of expression, or font size!) is so dense, we spend a long time on them. Others are veritable doorstops, but their simple expression and clear formatting mean we rip through them. I imagine that while The Divorce Papers is likely a thicker-than-average book, I don’t believe it was designed to take longer-than-average to read. If readers skim over the header information, and concentrate on the content between these headers, I imagine the novel would contain enough plot and character development to sustain it. As an audio book, however, I’m not sure the amount of content warrants 14 hours’ concentration.
This leads me to my second point, the proportion of time readers/listeners spend on the headers vs. the content.
While the average reader might spend, say, at most a second or two glancing over the headers to see who is writing to whom, when, and then, perhaps, fifteen to thirty seconds concentrating on the actual content, in the audio version, this ratio is often flipped on its head. You have to listen to thirty-five seconds worth of header information every time, before getting fifteen seconds of content in some cases. In other words, while the reader might spend less than 20% of their time looking at this type of content, as a listener, in parts, it feels like half of your time is listening to these details.
Finally, the ordering of content is an issue when a book like this is translated verbatim into an audio book. It’s not just the proportion of time that is spent on these details, but the fact that every piece of correspondence begins with them. Rather than whetting your appetite, hearing all of these repetitious and seemingly inconsequential details I found effectively switched my brain off before I got to the good details. We all tend to zone out when presented with information our brain tells us we’ve already heard. When reading, it’s easy for us to see this repetition and skip it, in listening, we cannot tell where we need to tune in again.
Paradoxically, by including everything the printed version does, in much the same way we might expect from auto-generated screen reader software, I believe the audio book actually reduces the authenticity experienced by the listener. That is, they are forced to, in many cases, spend longer dwelling on the boring details than on the actual message, when, in the written version, I strongly believe most readers would only glance over them.
Aside from an attempt at authenticity, only other reason I can think of for a publisher to adopt such an approach is economic. And I’m not just talking about not having to pay for the adaptation (I am uncertain whether that would even be a saving on the balance, when the kinds of adaptations I have suggested would result in a shorter book, and hence, fewer hours to compensate readers for).
From the most recent figures I’ve seen, Audible is now by far the industry leader of audio book retailers. And from what I understand, they pay creators by length. This may also explain how very slowly the readers seem to read (I usually listen to audio books on 1.25 or 1.5x speed, but even at double speed, The Divorce Papers sounded almost slow at times to me.
Even if big publishers like Crown have different pricing arrangements, and even if other platforms have different rules, I would imagine that most readers might consider a long book worth shelling out more for. So, I can’t really see a compelling reason for publishers to consider adaptations of works that might result in a more enjoyable experience for readers, but less money for them.
In sum, The Divorce Papers is a fascinating idea for a novel, with distinct voices, which are well matched with the readers, but because of the way it has been produced, I’m not confident that I have appreciated its characters or plot fully enough to review them.