2.5 stars
The Page Turner is well-written. Leavitt's writing is sparse, cool and to the point -- it's poignant but not pretentious, to the point but not underwritten, and evocative and non-judgemental towards its characters. I read this one in less than a day; it was very engaging, well-paced and addictive. Still, it wasn't one of those books that would linger long in the memory. Also, the writing for the settings was totally weak -- I don't like pages upon pages of description, but given that this is set half in Italy and half in America (Kansas and New York), I would have liked to be immersed in the foreign settings a little more, to give a sense of shifting scenery. As it was, the solipsistic characters could have just been wandering around blank canvases for 250ish pages and I wouldn't have known it.
If I had to choose one word to describe The Page Turner, that word would be "elegant." This is a very elegant book. It - both characters and writing - are incredibly restrained. This is a very, very good thing, given how melodramatic the plot was! I can honestly say I didn't notice the overcooked melodramatic contrivances of the plot, such as the endlessly weeping stage mother forever making convenient discoveries and having convenient blind spots or the endless bed-hopping by characters that initially met in a totally foreign country but managed to live mere miles away when the plot suited them. The characters' flaws and charisma was well-documented, especially Pamela, Paul's pushy, unlucky mother; despite her habit of being incredibly embarrassing, I really felt her love for Paul and her desire to be a good mother and her total unawareness of how embarassing she was being felt totally believable.
The problem with elegance is that, well, it's not suited to the entire book. While restraint worked for all the scenes in which the plot was building - such as Jacob's quiet breakdown over his dog's death - it leaves the entire book feeling a little nothingless. As with most suffering characters in melodrama, these players are extremely fucked-up, for want of a better phrase. Case in point: Richard, a former child prodigy struggling with the fact that he is approaching middle age. He's been in a romantic relationship with his much-older manager for twenty-five years, since he was...very young. (I'm not sure if this is an inconsistency because he tells Tushi, his friend, when they're having a heart-to-heart, that they've been sleeping together since he was fifteen, but he said much earlier that they "carefully didn't mention the first five years, when it was illegal" - is there any state where it's illegal to have sex with a twenty-year-old? I thought the maximum age was 18, which means that Richard would have been a grand total of 13 when he and Joseph started up. Ugh. Seriously dangerous implications there, especially given that Joseph has been the most sympathetic character so far. Nothing quite like some borderline paedophilia to darken a character.) So, yes, to sum up that rambling - Richard has had a fairly awful past, given that he hates fame, he hates being a trumped-up pianist (and he's a child prodigy who started travelling and performing since he was fourteen), his mother is out of the picture, he spends no time at 'home' and most of it in random hotel rooms, he picks up teenage boys for sex, he's perilously afraid of being used for his fame, he's had absolutely no father figure through his entire life - well, he seems to consider Joseph a father figure, and given all those previous ramblings about the sex...well, yeeeesh.
But The Page Turner is like a French film where everyone suffers oh so prettily. I didn't want it to turn into all the screaming and shouting and breaking things (all of the things I praised in the book earlier), but there's no dramatic arc whatsoever. The entire book builds and builds and builds -- and then just fizzles. I don't mind a somewhat open ending, but this ending was open to the point of being unfinished! Richard and Joseph argue - but that's all. The last conversation between Pamela and Paul is so forcefully symbolic that I found myself rolling my eyes. Good writing, but seriously faulty plotting. There's no real emotion here - for instance, when Paul thinks that he will never be a concert pianist because his old, senile, unfulfilled teacher told him so, I just didn't care. Leavitt has a lot of skill, but I felt that he failed in his attempt to show raw emotion -- it just didn't exist. The characters were just husks. The characters were compelling and well-drawn, but ultimatey empty.