Splitting the Nuclear Family
To my amazement, I read 360 pages in 24 hours. The cover warned that it would be a difficult book to put down, and it was true; I kept wanting to get back to it whenever I had to stop. I read fast at first because it was so inviting; Antonia Hayes is a lucid writer, she makes me feel at home in the Sydney setting, and her use of shortish sections gives the story a lively forward lope. I was drawn in because the people felt warm and true: a loving single mother and her twelve-year-old son Ethan, so brimming over with scientific information that I wondered if he might even be autistic. I kept reading with curiosity because Hayes constructs her novel like a mystery; Ethan's father is no longer in the picture, and eventually we find out why.
I have no intention of saying more, because Hayes is brilliant at parceling out information. I would say, though, that when you think you know the story, she will turn it all around, and then turn it round again. So I raced ahead to find out, reading in joy, surprise, or very occasional disbelief. Towards the end, I was trying to turn the pages quickly because the true story of what happened is so painful. Hayes could indeed write a powerful mystery, yet she does not make the mistake of wrapping up her novel too neatly; her ending is not about pulling rabbits from a hat (though a rabbit does figure in it), but coming down to a place of rightness where life can go on.
Then there is the science. The chapters have titles like Motion, Time, Space, and Entropy, all the way to a very beautiful riff on Gravity at the end. Ethan, who is demonstrably a genius and possibly more, is obsessed with physics and astronomy; his heroes are Einstein and Stephen Hawking. He may even have extraordinary powers of perception. Hayes handles our gradual immersion in Ethan's world very well, science working often as a metaphor, but backed up by other sciences such as cognitive psychology and neurology. I do have to say, though, that there were a few moments that required some indulgence, such as a sequence in which Ethan tries to build a time machine, a kind of sci-fi pseudoscience that a boy of his intelligence would surely have seen through immediately. But their shared interest in science makes for a particularly touching bond between Ethan and his father, who does indeed re-enter the picture. And the time-machine experiment, however implausible, catapults us into a painful but real climax in which all three characters face up to the past in order to return to a healthier present.
[I gave this an enthusiastic 5 stars when I first posted this review on Amazon. But the details have since faded, so I need to label it as an enthralling experience whose effects may not last.]