From the author of Who Walk in Darkness and The Bold Saboteurs, a wild and wickedly funny tale of madness, lust, and murder in midcentury New York
In a posh mental institution upstate, Carter bides his time between electroshock treatments, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. A longtime alcoholic, he is desperate to get better but feels worse every day—perhaps because he suspects that his wife and best friend are having an affair back home in Manhattan.
The truth, however, is that Carter has no clue how depraved his friends have become. Nymphomaniacs, adulterers, killers, and thieves, they have succumbed to every temptation, no matter how grotesque. If Carter knew what the intelligentsia of New York was really up to, he would never want to leave his padded room.
A dark satire of urbane sophistication and a chilling exposé of the thin veneer that masks the madness within us all, The Double View is a brilliant provocation from one of America’s most revolutionary authors.
Chandler Brossard was an American novelist, writer, editor, and teacher. He wrote or edited a total of 17 books. With a challenging style and outsider characters, Brossard had limited critical success in the United States. His novels were more appreciated in France and Great Britain.
His early works have been described as "landmarks of the postwar American novel."
This was my second dive into the work of Chandler Brossard. After reading The Wolf Leaps a few months back I was pretty impressed with what Brossard could do with a short narrative, covering the gritty realism of mid 20th Century America. While I think that Brossard continues on that same path with The Double Dealers, I don’t think it hits the same stride as The Wolf Leaps.
The Double Dealers is a story of identity. Covering a wide array of backgrounds in its vast cast of characters Brossard explores youth culture of the 1950s and the varying challenges of living in a society repressive of sexuality, race, gender, and neuro divergences. It’s an interesting concept but one I ultimately feel didn’t hit its mark for me. I appreciate a more realistic look at mid 20th Century society, as so much of what we’ve come to know of that time period is a glossed over understanding but from other examples I’ve read I felt this book was lacking in its overall presentation. While there were parts of this book I certainly liked, I felt that works of William S Burroughs or John Barth have done a better job at covering this subject and time period.
My main issue is that this quite short book looks to accomplish a lot while not giving enough time to any of the character’s or plots to truly capture a reader. The narrative jumps around from character to character and setting or plot to the next at a pretty quick speed. This wouldn’t be as much an issue for me if there was more to the story but I found that by the time I was really getting into the book it was already wrapping up.
One of my biggest praises of The Wolf Leaps was how quickly Brossard draws you in, that is not necessarily the case here. Some sections were certainly more engaging than others for me and often I found myself not really connecting with the text until much deeper into a chapter, whereas it was pretty much instantaneous with The Wolf Leaps. This pulpy narrative can be fun at times and definitely enters an over the top exhibition of its themes I think others might resonate more with than I did on this initial read. I think some of this also isn’t helped by having read and really enjoying John Barth’s The End of the Road only a few months back. While far from the same story they do explore similar themes of 1950s youth culture and its dissonance with the world at large through a psychiatric lens. I felt that for what I look for in a novel The End of the Road offered more appeal to me.
I do want to praise Corona/Samizdat for the presentation of this work. The exterior artwork, introduction by Zach Tanner, and especially the afterward by Iris Brossard are all elements that enhance this work greatly. I was particularly drawn to the afterward where daughter Iris Brossard offers insight into living in the dysfunctional household of her parents and the deeply flawed elements of her father as a person. The juxtaposition of the over the top energy of the narrative with the alcoholic adultery of the author is something that offers an especially poignant tone to the conclusion of the work.
Went into this novel stone cold, finished half aware of events and players. Brossard shuffles characters and settings abruptly. The story / stories come across as snapshots of early 1960’s New York, and most of the individuals are idlers. Few seem to visibly work. Hawkins is a college professor, Carter is institutionalized. Harry leads a dual identity as bored husband and lower class thug. Other characters hide another self behind masks. Hawkins, the professor, with desires or aspirations to mix with the white intellectuals, who aren’t necessarily intellectual. Margaret, heiress, with transgressive sexual desires and perverse glee in trying to shock her (deceased) grandparents. Carter’s wife Janine and friend Rand. Outwardly, they want the best for him. Yet so long as Carter is within the asylum, they can freely frolic in the bedsheets. The pages flick throughout between wandering souls and petty amusements. A biting satire that reminded me at times of Dawn Powell’s Turn, Magic Wheel.
I particularly recommend the new edition by Corona \ Samizdat. Lively in-depth introduction by Zachary Tanner, and an afterward by Iris Brossard, talking about her parents, their combative relationship, as well as a few anecdotes, funny, bitter.