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The Same River Twice
A NEW YORK TIMES NOTABLE BOOK • Odile Mével is a French clothing designer, her American husband, Max, an independent filmmaker. When Odile agrees to buy a selection of ceremonial May Day banners in the Soviet Union and deliver the contraband to Paris she earns a new job smuggler. Soon her fellow courier disappears, her apartment is ransacked, and her friend’s houseboat is firebombed. While Max has no inkling of Odile’s dealings, he finds himself embroiled in a baffling film world mystery of his own. As their escapades deepen and their deceptions multiply, Odile and Max discover their secrets are connected—endangering not only their marriage but their lives.
386 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2010
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About the author
Ted Mooney
11 books35 followersLike most fiction writers, I write to *discover* what I think, not to to report on what I already know.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 60 reviews
September 30, 2012
For an alleged "literary thriller," this book doesn't do either genre much justice. It's both ponderous and bloated in the style of bad literary novels, and not much fun, which is something you'd hope for in a thriller. Rather, it seems to have embraced the worst aspects of both, despite a prose style that is pretty sturdy and elegant, if a little too mannered. The problem is more what's being said (or not said), not how the author says it.
The NY Times Book Review praised this book to high heaven as "a novel that has it all," which, in a literal sense, is true, and for proving that a literary thriller is possible, as though Mooney had minted some new kind of novel, and not something that Graham Greene, to name just one example, did quite well throughout his entire career.
After a promising opening involving illicit deals with Moscow street vendors and mysterious behavior at a Brest train station, the book coasts along pretty well for a while. My discontent with it crept in little by little as I realized I didn't understand the characters, and with a sinking feeling, that I wasn't going to be allowed to.
Odile, our heroine, is always doing things for reasons that "she dared not examine too closely," or doesn't "want to understand." Well, how convenient for her, not to mention the author, who is saved the hard work of actually figuring out his principal character. The only loser in this equation is the reader. I found this pattern repeated time and again--we are told that a certain character has a trait, or is a certain way, but it's not supported by anything I've seen him or her do. Many of the characters bled together for me, including very important ones. I knew they were separate people, but I couldn't tell you in what way they are different, other than which arrondissement they live in.
On the thriller side of things, Mooney decided to cram four or five mysteries in where one, centered around a stable of solid, well-crafted characters, would do. He goes for a sort of all-these-mysteries-were-really-one-mystery thing in the end, but it's a mess. When we get a speech about stem cells in the last five pages, I just couldn't take it anymore. And then there's the obsession with coincidence and fate, all of which seemed like a contrivance to make life easier for the writer.
This novel had a lot of problems, any one of which I could forgive on its own. There's a saying among writers that goes, "A novel is a long narrative that has something wrong with it." But in this case, the strikes added up, and I was relieved to be done with it.
The NY Times Book Review praised this book to high heaven as "a novel that has it all," which, in a literal sense, is true, and for proving that a literary thriller is possible, as though Mooney had minted some new kind of novel, and not something that Graham Greene, to name just one example, did quite well throughout his entire career.
After a promising opening involving illicit deals with Moscow street vendors and mysterious behavior at a Brest train station, the book coasts along pretty well for a while. My discontent with it crept in little by little as I realized I didn't understand the characters, and with a sinking feeling, that I wasn't going to be allowed to.
Odile, our heroine, is always doing things for reasons that "she dared not examine too closely," or doesn't "want to understand." Well, how convenient for her, not to mention the author, who is saved the hard work of actually figuring out his principal character. The only loser in this equation is the reader. I found this pattern repeated time and again--we are told that a certain character has a trait, or is a certain way, but it's not supported by anything I've seen him or her do. Many of the characters bled together for me, including very important ones. I knew they were separate people, but I couldn't tell you in what way they are different, other than which arrondissement they live in.
On the thriller side of things, Mooney decided to cram four or five mysteries in where one, centered around a stable of solid, well-crafted characters, would do. He goes for a sort of all-these-mysteries-were-really-one-mystery thing in the end, but it's a mess. When we get a speech about stem cells in the last five pages, I just couldn't take it anymore. And then there's the obsession with coincidence and fate, all of which seemed like a contrivance to make life easier for the writer.
This novel had a lot of problems, any one of which I could forgive on its own. There's a saying among writers that goes, "A novel is a long narrative that has something wrong with it." But in this case, the strikes added up, and I was relieved to be done with it.
October 2, 2013
Readers seeking a strong female role model might well look here and then -- have second thoughts. On the one hand, Odile is intelligent and capable, elegant, charming, and a seemingly effortless hostess who can cook a lovely supper of lamb while herself adhering to her newly adopted vegetarian diet. On the other, her actions reflect a masculine sense of purpose. As her husband Max reflects: “But amid all this circular thinking, useless and demeaning, Max knew one thing to be unquestionably true: Odile did nothing without purpose. She had a message for him, and however painful it might be, he wanted to fully understand it.” (p.157). Turner, the art dealer who has involved her in an art smuggling deal, assesses her: “She projected sullen confidence and a willingness to engage. Yet it seemed to him that there was also something ascetic about her, an unplumbed capacity to do without, to withdraw, to reduce and simplify, to exist among essences or endure their absence. It was like a glimpse of another woman, one quite capable of indifference, even cruelty, and Turner quickened at the recognition.” (p.77)
Odile is constantly exploring her own emotions, making choices that have led her into gray areas both legal and moral. She agrees to illegally purchase and smuggle some priceless Soviet era banners for the shrewd ambitious American ex-patriot, Turner. She is willing to betray her shady co-conspirator, Thierry, in the smuggling venture to some dangerous Russian mafia types. She engages in a brief affair – another facet of her experimentation. These examples of inquisitiveness and self-reliance also make her difficult to like. There is a missing vulnerability that we might adhere to in say a Hitchcockian protagonist like Kim Novak or Tippee Hedrin, that is absent here, replaced by a relentlessly objective self-assessing celebrant of elan. The easier choices of victimhood or heroism having been discarded, Mooney relies on our curiosity, alone, to bind us to this character.
Odile is married to Max, an independent filmmaker, well-regarded in art circles, and sufficiently successful to continue with his career, which has led him from New York to Paris, leaving behind an ex-wife and a now adolescent daughter. He is searching for revitalization. His latest effort is an unscripted project skillfully exploiting the tools of cinema vérité, using non-actors and natural lighting. His current subjects are Rachel and Groot who live on a houseboat that they are in the process of restoring. Rachel, in particular, carries on without affectation in the presence of the camera – exactly what Max is looking for. Max is the innocent in all of this – an outside observer struggling to interpret what he is seeing. It takes his agent, Eddie, to tell him that the Russian banker named Kukushkin that he has befriended, is actually a dangerous Russian mafia figure.
The narrative is languid, and Mooney captures a distinctive French sense of mood with its descriptions of streets and ancient catacombs, and details of meals and spirits. There are extended passages on Max's careful campaign to auction the contraband Soviet banners, the backstory of Max's first film, Fireflies, and the parallel relationship between Groot and Rachel as they progress with the renovation of their houseboat, and explore the implications of marriage. In addition, there are numerous secondary characters: Max's daughter Allegra, a shady real estate agent named Sylvain Broche, a mysterious woman named Veronique, who makes Max's acquaintance, a portraitist named Celeste with a genius for uncovering penetrating truths of character in her paintings, Gabrielle, Turner's stylish young assistant, and a group of young anarchists who live next door to Max and Odile. The succession of scenes feel cinematic in their restless shift of focus and settings. There is a distinctly black-and-white feel, mirroring Max's films, which bring occasional colors such as the green silk dress Odile poses in for her portrait a startling sense of presence. There are also recurring themes, a pearlescent white light, an obscure violin sonata by Biber, the story of Odile and Max's first meeting. The result is a careful architecture of coincidences and premonitions that subtly repress any impulse toward disbelief.
I frequently roam outside my comfort zone in my reading, and this book was one of those instances. The problem I had with this book is that the assortment of characters Mooney offers are so unusual that they are exotics. Nothing in our own experience helps to explain them, and Moody is forced to tell us who these characters are, without the input of reader inference. THE SAME RIVER TWICE is not about characters at all. On one level it is a complex suspense novel. The suspense is created by the author's skill in tying together the various situations he has created, rather than our investment in any of the characters. On another level, it is a discourse on aesthetics. Finally, it is an exploration of experience as pattern. As Max develops his film, he muses: “...he would soon have to find the narrative framework to support his scrutinies. How closely it might correspond to actual events was entirely up to him....Choosing what reality to be true to.” (p.86)
This is not a story in the vein of Heraclitus, but rather of T.S. Eliot: “We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.”
Odile is constantly exploring her own emotions, making choices that have led her into gray areas both legal and moral. She agrees to illegally purchase and smuggle some priceless Soviet era banners for the shrewd ambitious American ex-patriot, Turner. She is willing to betray her shady co-conspirator, Thierry, in the smuggling venture to some dangerous Russian mafia types. She engages in a brief affair – another facet of her experimentation. These examples of inquisitiveness and self-reliance also make her difficult to like. There is a missing vulnerability that we might adhere to in say a Hitchcockian protagonist like Kim Novak or Tippee Hedrin, that is absent here, replaced by a relentlessly objective self-assessing celebrant of elan. The easier choices of victimhood or heroism having been discarded, Mooney relies on our curiosity, alone, to bind us to this character.
Odile is married to Max, an independent filmmaker, well-regarded in art circles, and sufficiently successful to continue with his career, which has led him from New York to Paris, leaving behind an ex-wife and a now adolescent daughter. He is searching for revitalization. His latest effort is an unscripted project skillfully exploiting the tools of cinema vérité, using non-actors and natural lighting. His current subjects are Rachel and Groot who live on a houseboat that they are in the process of restoring. Rachel, in particular, carries on without affectation in the presence of the camera – exactly what Max is looking for. Max is the innocent in all of this – an outside observer struggling to interpret what he is seeing. It takes his agent, Eddie, to tell him that the Russian banker named Kukushkin that he has befriended, is actually a dangerous Russian mafia figure.
The narrative is languid, and Mooney captures a distinctive French sense of mood with its descriptions of streets and ancient catacombs, and details of meals and spirits. There are extended passages on Max's careful campaign to auction the contraband Soviet banners, the backstory of Max's first film, Fireflies, and the parallel relationship between Groot and Rachel as they progress with the renovation of their houseboat, and explore the implications of marriage. In addition, there are numerous secondary characters: Max's daughter Allegra, a shady real estate agent named Sylvain Broche, a mysterious woman named Veronique, who makes Max's acquaintance, a portraitist named Celeste with a genius for uncovering penetrating truths of character in her paintings, Gabrielle, Turner's stylish young assistant, and a group of young anarchists who live next door to Max and Odile. The succession of scenes feel cinematic in their restless shift of focus and settings. There is a distinctly black-and-white feel, mirroring Max's films, which bring occasional colors such as the green silk dress Odile poses in for her portrait a startling sense of presence. There are also recurring themes, a pearlescent white light, an obscure violin sonata by Biber, the story of Odile and Max's first meeting. The result is a careful architecture of coincidences and premonitions that subtly repress any impulse toward disbelief.
I frequently roam outside my comfort zone in my reading, and this book was one of those instances. The problem I had with this book is that the assortment of characters Mooney offers are so unusual that they are exotics. Nothing in our own experience helps to explain them, and Moody is forced to tell us who these characters are, without the input of reader inference. THE SAME RIVER TWICE is not about characters at all. On one level it is a complex suspense novel. The suspense is created by the author's skill in tying together the various situations he has created, rather than our investment in any of the characters. On another level, it is a discourse on aesthetics. Finally, it is an exploration of experience as pattern. As Max develops his film, he muses: “...he would soon have to find the narrative framework to support his scrutinies. How closely it might correspond to actual events was entirely up to him....Choosing what reality to be true to.” (p.86)
This is not a story in the vein of Heraclitus, but rather of T.S. Eliot: “We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.”
July 23, 2011
Mooney has come up w/ some haunting disturbances in all his three novels. What arrests our attention is always the amorous connection: the girl who takes a dolphin for her lover in EASY TRAVEL TO OTHER PLANETS, in the mid-70s, & ten years later the affair initiated just as the whole world’s about to fry, in TRAFFIC & LAUGHTER. Now, in THE SAME RIVER TWICE, once again it’s love that renders things spooky — & us too, afloat on superlunary narrative. Otherwise, as a number of the GR reviews have noted, this novel keeps us on solid cobblestone, the fragrant & slant-lit Paris of hipsters & artists (though the book begins in Moscow). As the drama develops it invites comparison to the first-rate spy-guy “entertainments” of Graham Greene. SAME RIVER starts with contraband art & escalates into mortal threats. An early & hackle-spiking scene has a couple grim-faced Russians briefly kidnapping our heroine in broad daylight, from a well-populated sidewalk of the Seine, & then growling strong suggestions that she’s in for worse. Yet in that scene as throughout, the most dynamic element remains the damsel in distress. It’s Odile, smuggler & step-mom & adulteress & so much more. Odile proves the over-the-moon mark-of-Mooney here, & the one who risks a second step into the river, against the age-old advice of Heraclitus. It’s she who doubles up love, art, motherhood, & she who makes a final shocking assertion for just one choice, one face of the truth. Mooney expresses her quandary in one of the best of his many aphorisms: “A man lied by fabricating false truths, a woman by omitting real ones.” So Odile must make the assertion, she must own up to & claim the real, & she does so via gunplay, w/ an acceptance of blood & the inevitable not unlike you’d see in Sophocles (& wasn't he a close contemporary of Heraclitus?). Odile sorts out the ultimate either/on. Yes, meanwhile the rest of her world takes off in puzzling final spins, beyond her ken & ours, & that includes the plot that had her so entangled & readers so engaged (how many thrillers get down into the Paris underground, after a runaway teen on X?). But those final spins, in themselves, are never less than fascinating — & more than that the mysterious closure of SAME RIVER leaves an honest reader searching for reflection in the currents at his or her feet, the water like the stones of unknown towns.
January 25, 2011
Having read a glowing review in the NYT Book Review, and having just been to Paris for the first time last fall, I was excited about getting Ted Mooney's new novel "The Same River Twice" from the library. It is extolled as a "literary thriller," and Mooney is a master wordsmith. Some of his descriptions are breathtaking.
I jumped into this book and found myself thoroughly immersed in the multifaceted plot and characters. A French woman, a dress designer, is paid as a courier to bring some historic and artistic banners out of Russia to a Paris art dealer, and ends up in a sticky situation in more ways than one. Her American filmmaker husband, meanwhile, while trying to work on his latest art film, discovers that some DVDs of one of his earlier now classic films include an ending very different from his own--yet nicely produced. Why?
There are other layers going on and you find yourself struggling to keep all the loose ends together. But about halfway through the book, the characters start doing surprising and unsympathetic things, and it only gets worse. Ultimately I found it disturbing, or at least unsatisfying. I wondered if I was the only one who felt this way, given the rather positive review I'd read, and checking a bunch of Amazon reviews confirmed my own disappointment in the book. It's not bad as thrillers go, but ultimately it's difficult to believe the characters or what happens with them. And the motif set up by the title (and several deja vu experiences throughout the book) never quite hits home. But it was nice to experience Paris again.
I jumped into this book and found myself thoroughly immersed in the multifaceted plot and characters. A French woman, a dress designer, is paid as a courier to bring some historic and artistic banners out of Russia to a Paris art dealer, and ends up in a sticky situation in more ways than one. Her American filmmaker husband, meanwhile, while trying to work on his latest art film, discovers that some DVDs of one of his earlier now classic films include an ending very different from his own--yet nicely produced. Why?
There are other layers going on and you find yourself struggling to keep all the loose ends together. But about halfway through the book, the characters start doing surprising and unsympathetic things, and it only gets worse. Ultimately I found it disturbing, or at least unsatisfying. I wondered if I was the only one who felt this way, given the rather positive review I'd read, and checking a bunch of Amazon reviews confirmed my own disappointment in the book. It's not bad as thrillers go, but ultimately it's difficult to believe the characters or what happens with them. And the motif set up by the title (and several deja vu experiences throughout the book) never quite hits home. But it was nice to experience Paris again.
July 31, 2010
Ted Mooney’s The Same River Twice is like a high-speed Maserati ride through the nightime streets of Paris: exhilarating and dangerous. The bargain with literary thrill rides is based on how far from reality the author is willing to go before all plausibility is lost. In The Same River Twice, Mooney takes us to the edge, and back.
In this contemporary mystery, Mooney casts his story with a collection of exotiques, impossibly beautiful, intelligent and morally ambiguous characters that assume the role of avatar for the reader as they become entangled in tightening strands of intrigue. Through the entire story, they indulge in every vice and desire with an off-hand decadence that is intoxicating to witness. In a period of prohibitions, finger-wagging and no smoking signs, watching such wanton and sophisticated misbehavior is as thrilling as the peril and danger that are also a large part of this story. Put simply, these characters are urban sophisticates that get to do everything that we are denied, all the while living lives full of endless glasses of Calvados, cigars, sex, great music and conversations about art. Let me in!
To read my entire review and my interview with Ted Mooney on The Current Reader:
http://thecurrentreader.com/?p=177
In this contemporary mystery, Mooney casts his story with a collection of exotiques, impossibly beautiful, intelligent and morally ambiguous characters that assume the role of avatar for the reader as they become entangled in tightening strands of intrigue. Through the entire story, they indulge in every vice and desire with an off-hand decadence that is intoxicating to witness. In a period of prohibitions, finger-wagging and no smoking signs, watching such wanton and sophisticated misbehavior is as thrilling as the peril and danger that are also a large part of this story. Put simply, these characters are urban sophisticates that get to do everything that we are denied, all the while living lives full of endless glasses of Calvados, cigars, sex, great music and conversations about art. Let me in!
To read my entire review and my interview with Ted Mooney on The Current Reader:
http://thecurrentreader.com/?p=177
January 2, 2012
Brilliantly atmospheric and well paced. Interesting characters who may or may not be aware of their own motives and may or may not have feelings like you or I. It is a fascinating book in many ways, and it maintains a remarkable pace and clarity until about 3/5 of the way in, when things start to loosen and the narrative starts to fray a little. However, i tpicks up again and resolves into a startling conclusion. It was a very engrossing read and I would recommend it.
I cannot estimate the time and energy and concentration it would have taken to write this novel. The characters leave and indelible mark on the reader's conscience.
For some reason, even though I have finished this book for more than a month now, the characters till pop into my head occasionally, especially Max and Odile, and the crew of the Nachtvlinder much like the characters in Before Sunrise/After Sunset by Linklater.
Dare I request a sequel?
I cannot estimate the time and energy and concentration it would have taken to write this novel. The characters leave and indelible mark on the reader's conscience.
For some reason, even though I have finished this book for more than a month now, the characters till pop into my head occasionally, especially Max and Odile, and the crew of the Nachtvlinder much like the characters in Before Sunrise/After Sunset by Linklater.
Dare I request a sequel?
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 10, 2016
Is escape possible, and what do endings have to do with what comes before? Is it possible to experience something (for) the first time? The less said about the plot, the better. Let it suffice to say that this book lives up to the promise of Mooney's first book, Easy Travel to Other Planets, while making it clear how he was headed here with his last two books.
July 1, 2010
I liked the writing but I despised nearly all of the characters and thought the plot was ridiculous and just didn't make sense.
May 14, 2024
Odile and Max are struggling artists living in modern-day Paris. She is a clothing designer and he is a filmmaker. They live in a cheap apartment that they owe back-rent on and though they are aware of their financial struggles, it doesn't take a toll on their marriage. Or at least, Max doesn't think it does...
Secretly, Odile has agreed to smuggle some May Day banners from Russia into France for an art exhibit. The compensation for this would be enough to pay the back-rent they owe and the plan seems fool-proof. Once she returns from Russia and Max is none the wiser about her trip, she thinks everything will be okay. That is, until she comes home to find their apartment trashed. Other strange things are happening too- her smuggling partner is now missing, a bomb is thrown aboard their friends' boat, and Max's previous film has been adapted without his permission. Not to mention, two Russian thugs have been making their presence very known.
Though Odile keeps her cards close to her chest, Max begins to suspect something is off. Why isn't she wearing her beloved watch? Who is this man that's come over to appraise their artwork? Is Odile cheating on him? None of his suspicions can be validated outright, and that's just as well- because Max is in the middle of filming his next great work. A movie starring his latest muse- their neighbor who resides in a houseboat next to the apartment complex, Rachel. Filming Rachel is his obsession, and nothing will stop him from capturing every little thing that befalls Rachel and her boyfriend, not even a Molotov cocktail that gets thrown aboard one night. This is just another occurrence added to the list of strange things that have been happening in Max and Odile's life.
When this complete web of lies and deceit comes to a head, Max is filming and what his second cameraman catches is something no one can ever unsee.
I gave this three stars because it was advertised as a mystery or a thriller and though the plot-line would have you think that, it certainly didn't read that way. The way I interpreted the contents of the book was more of a sticky web of characters' mistakes and the karmic way in which they're bitten back. This is definitely a slow-burn book. Honestly, when I first started reading this, I thought I was reading about a different time period until there was mention of high-definition cameras and cell phones. Maybe that was just me who was confused, though. I'm not that into plain fiction- I need something more. I will say that I could see someone who enjoys that genre enjoying this book. Three stars.
Secretly, Odile has agreed to smuggle some May Day banners from Russia into France for an art exhibit. The compensation for this would be enough to pay the back-rent they owe and the plan seems fool-proof. Once she returns from Russia and Max is none the wiser about her trip, she thinks everything will be okay. That is, until she comes home to find their apartment trashed. Other strange things are happening too- her smuggling partner is now missing, a bomb is thrown aboard their friends' boat, and Max's previous film has been adapted without his permission. Not to mention, two Russian thugs have been making their presence very known.
Though Odile keeps her cards close to her chest, Max begins to suspect something is off. Why isn't she wearing her beloved watch? Who is this man that's come over to appraise their artwork? Is Odile cheating on him? None of his suspicions can be validated outright, and that's just as well- because Max is in the middle of filming his next great work. A movie starring his latest muse- their neighbor who resides in a houseboat next to the apartment complex, Rachel. Filming Rachel is his obsession, and nothing will stop him from capturing every little thing that befalls Rachel and her boyfriend, not even a Molotov cocktail that gets thrown aboard one night. This is just another occurrence added to the list of strange things that have been happening in Max and Odile's life.
When this complete web of lies and deceit comes to a head, Max is filming and what his second cameraman catches is something no one can ever unsee.
I gave this three stars because it was advertised as a mystery or a thriller and though the plot-line would have you think that, it certainly didn't read that way. The way I interpreted the contents of the book was more of a sticky web of characters' mistakes and the karmic way in which they're bitten back. This is definitely a slow-burn book. Honestly, when I first started reading this, I thought I was reading about a different time period until there was mention of high-definition cameras and cell phones. Maybe that was just me who was confused, though. I'm not that into plain fiction- I need something more. I will say that I could see someone who enjoys that genre enjoying this book. Three stars.
August 12, 2021
The Same River Twice by Ted Mooney (Alfred A. Knopf 2010) (Fiction) (3559).
Here’s a disclaimer but not a spoiler: I read this book by accident. That is exactly what I mean. A friend had texted me commending The Same River Twice; I found a copy on my local library’s website. I soon realized that I was completely underwhelmed by the story. I usually devour reading material quickly, but I had a hard time engaging this tale.
I was puzzled as to why my friend recommended this. I checked his text again and realized my error: I had picked up a novel with the same title but by a different author! I was reading a completely different book than the one that had been recommended.
Reviewers are pretty much split between really liking Ted Mooney’s The Same River Twice or thoroughly disliking it. There seems to be little middle ground.
Here’s what I thought: This 362 page novel consists of 300 pages of back story about a group of contemporary Parisians and roughly 60 pages of action. It was a slog, but the payoff was worth sticking with the tale.
However, in the closing pages the author had the characters sort of debrief one another as a technique to tie up and explain the loose ends in the plot line. Ted Mooney allowed the readers access to the private thoughts and musings of the protagonists. At this point in the narrative the author underlined and explained the motivation, involvement, and events which had been central to the plot. Unfortunately, this “big reveal” came too late to be anything but a head scratcher. In other words, the author told us why events had unfolded as they had, but Mooney failed to make this information accessible until the last few pages of the book instead of earlier when it would have been useful to readers. Instead of an "aha!" moment, my reaction was "WHAAAT?"
Failing to highlight for readers information which drove the principal antagonist’s motives caused the book to be less than it could have been. This late reveal left me with the feeling that the time I had invested in reading this had been pointless.
My rating: 6.5/10, finished 8/11/21 (3559). Though this book is not without serious problems, Ted Mooney is nevertheless a fine writer.
July 10, 2019
Call it a pet peeve, but I find it vastly exhausting when female leads are noticeably written by male authors. I'm not saying that this cannot be done (because it is frequently and artfully accomplished), but when it's obvious, it can be painfully discourteous to not just the readers but the female characters are also granted a disservice. Odile is set up to be this aggressive, undomesticated (to a degree) lead who is unpredictable. Alluring, right? Not really. Some of her actions, particularly at the end, are lost on me. I know the author's message is that a story's close can be left open to allow for endless interpretations, but typically when readers dedicate themselves to reading a novel this tedious, they expect closure. Instead the leads are satisfied with being unsatisfied. It's like reading a mystery without all of the clues, and therefore never understanding the plot twists. Furthermore, I didn't even feel intrigued until after the first 80 pages because I was unsure of the direction of the plot. I am still giving this novel two stars because the setting of Paris will always be charming and I was initially pulled into the characters' real motives, even if they were left unattended. I can understand how some readers will be enchanted with the ending's infinite possibilities, which is very meta to the story itself, but I guess I'm too overindulged with endings wrapped in neat bows.
June 2, 2018
Amazing characters
I've only ever read a half a dozen novels where the characters are so creatively intelligent in their thoughts. Introspective even when they don't know what they're doing.
I've only ever read a half a dozen novels where the characters are so creatively intelligent in their thoughts. Introspective even when they don't know what they're doing.
August 16, 2021
The opening is intriguing, but swiftly became a story that went no where the long way around. When reading becomes a chore even when there is no other book around, it's time to cut losses. So many books, so little time.
March 13, 2018
I didn't finish this book. I didn't like the characters and found it tedious.
August 6, 2010
The Same River Twice
by Ted Mooney begs you to put it down. It's a convoluted plot that relies on the reader not really questioning how interconnected all of these people and events are, but to merely accept them and trust as the main characters Odile and Max trust in each other. What spurs the reader to continue are the characters, even though they are clunky fixtures banging around Paris who never truly become believable. It's hard to take a character named Groot very seriously, especially when it brings to mind a certain slow-witted barbarian.
The characters:
Max: Husband to Odile, and small, but successful film maker, American expat.
Odile: Wife to Max, small scale fashion designer.
Groot: Transient Dutchman who lives on a houseboat with his trust fund Californian girlfriend.
Rachel: Groot's trust fund girlfriend, and sort of star of Max's film.
Turner: Shady art dealer.
Thierry Collins: Odile's partner in a smuggling operation from Russia. English professor in debt.
Gabriella: Turner's assistant.
Kukushkin: Shady Russian banker / crime boss.
A few minor characters are left out, but the basic premise is that Odile and Collins smuggle some artwork out of Russia for Turner, and that the border crossing was expedited by Kukushkin. Something goes wrong, and suddenly Russian criminals start harassing Turner and Odile in search of Collins whom disappeared. Meanwhile, Max is going through an artistic transformation and begins to shoot a movie focused on Rachel, Groot, and their houseboat the Nachtvlinder. While all these various elements eventually overlap, it feels forced and disingenuous.
Also, the language dragged at the pacing of the novel. Exposition fills the pages, telling the reader how characters feel, without showing us anything. If that were changed, this would be a more captivating read.
The last part that keeps the reader interested is the quasi-mystery. This isn't a true mystery, because it all seems so obvious, but still it pulls at the reader to see how Max will piece it together. Perhaps, the real mystery is how his film will unfold. For me, that was the real driving force of the novel. The sections about Max shooting film and thinking and talking about film were intriguing. The rest came across a little too wooden. At times, this novel felt more like a translation because there is something just off about the language.
Another disappointment is how some elements are dropped and seem to have no importance, such as all of the scenes with Odile having her portrait painted. The painter can "see" the true Odile, while no one else can. But this finishes up and nothing comes of it. Finally, the characters actions seem to have little or no consequences. Mooney writes off major developments and actions with phrases like, they didn't need to talk about it because they would never mention it again. Or, her hand moved the gun with no thought, and he didn't question her motives. It's uninspired, sloppy writing.
I kept reading this story, because it was like watching a malfunctioning car racing down a speedway. The finish line is in sight, but you have no idea if it will make it there in one piece.
The characters:
Max: Husband to Odile, and small, but successful film maker, American expat.
Odile: Wife to Max, small scale fashion designer.
Groot: Transient Dutchman who lives on a houseboat with his trust fund Californian girlfriend.
Rachel: Groot's trust fund girlfriend, and sort of star of Max's film.
Turner: Shady art dealer.
Thierry Collins: Odile's partner in a smuggling operation from Russia. English professor in debt.
Gabriella: Turner's assistant.
Kukushkin: Shady Russian banker / crime boss.
A few minor characters are left out, but the basic premise is that Odile and Collins smuggle some artwork out of Russia for Turner, and that the border crossing was expedited by Kukushkin. Something goes wrong, and suddenly Russian criminals start harassing Turner and Odile in search of Collins whom disappeared. Meanwhile, Max is going through an artistic transformation and begins to shoot a movie focused on Rachel, Groot, and their houseboat the Nachtvlinder. While all these various elements eventually overlap, it feels forced and disingenuous.
Also, the language dragged at the pacing of the novel. Exposition fills the pages, telling the reader how characters feel, without showing us anything. If that were changed, this would be a more captivating read.
The last part that keeps the reader interested is the quasi-mystery. This isn't a true mystery, because it all seems so obvious, but still it pulls at the reader to see how Max will piece it together. Perhaps, the real mystery is how his film will unfold. For me, that was the real driving force of the novel. The sections about Max shooting film and thinking and talking about film were intriguing. The rest came across a little too wooden. At times, this novel felt more like a translation because there is something just off about the language.
Another disappointment is how some elements are dropped and seem to have no importance, such as all of the scenes with Odile having her portrait painted. The painter can "see" the true Odile, while no one else can. But this finishes up and nothing comes of it. Finally, the characters actions seem to have little or no consequences. Mooney writes off major developments and actions with phrases like, they didn't need to talk about it because they would never mention it again. Or, her hand moved the gun with no thought, and he didn't question her motives. It's uninspired, sloppy writing.
I kept reading this story, because it was like watching a malfunctioning car racing down a speedway. The finish line is in sight, but you have no idea if it will make it there in one piece.
March 17, 2011
I have a backlog of books to "review" here on Goodreads and the reason for that is this book; it caused my judgmental flow to clog up. The contradictory qualities of this book made it not easy to review; I postponed and visited the scene and few times trying to see an angle which would in one push dislodge the trunks bobbing there in an impasse.
I appreciated the clarity and visual vivacity of the prose; it has elegance and restraint. I also appreciated the settings, first in Moscow, then, for the most part, in Paris. I also found the character selection interesting, a film maker, dress maker, boat restorers, art wheeler/dealer,painter, russian mafia etc. I liked, to varying degrees, the glimpses of the creative processes these characters employed. The exposé of how art is marketed makes the book worth its while.
I just felt so alienated form the main female character; the soigné French dress maker; whose "point of view" occupies much of the book. I found her monstrously flippant. She was presented as caring to her friends while being totally callous towards certain others. She does caring things, such as going to great lengths to "rescue" her stepdaughter. Yet, she denounces and kills innocent people. She lies or keeps silent about whatsoever.
And there is what I can't resolve. There are whole books with unsympathetic, even evil characters and yet there I feel it is intentional, a success in such characterization; whether or not those characters have their comeuppance or succeed in their manipulations. Sometimes there are characters that are both good and bad, in life and letters. Here, this person's amoral ongoings really bothered me, yet the whole plot was about much bigger amoral plotting (the russian mafia). Now, could this person, loved by other character's in the book then just not be that way; as if there were among us such undetected amoral friends and lovers? Sure. But what bothers me here is that I feel that this amoral character is somehow accepted and even admired on the premise of the book which has its sights on other amoral ongoings. Anyway, this feeling is the log in the river, blocking the passage.
But, here, I push "save" and see if it does the trick.
I appreciated the clarity and visual vivacity of the prose; it has elegance and restraint. I also appreciated the settings, first in Moscow, then, for the most part, in Paris. I also found the character selection interesting, a film maker, dress maker, boat restorers, art wheeler/dealer,painter, russian mafia etc. I liked, to varying degrees, the glimpses of the creative processes these characters employed. The exposé of how art is marketed makes the book worth its while.
I just felt so alienated form the main female character; the soigné French dress maker; whose "point of view" occupies much of the book. I found her monstrously flippant. She was presented as caring to her friends while being totally callous towards certain others. She does caring things, such as going to great lengths to "rescue" her stepdaughter. Yet, she denounces and kills innocent people. She lies or keeps silent about whatsoever.
And there is what I can't resolve. There are whole books with unsympathetic, even evil characters and yet there I feel it is intentional, a success in such characterization; whether or not those characters have their comeuppance or succeed in their manipulations. Sometimes there are characters that are both good and bad, in life and letters. Here, this person's amoral ongoings really bothered me, yet the whole plot was about much bigger amoral plotting (the russian mafia). Now, could this person, loved by other character's in the book then just not be that way; as if there were among us such undetected amoral friends and lovers? Sure. But what bothers me here is that I feel that this amoral character is somehow accepted and even admired on the premise of the book which has its sights on other amoral ongoings. Anyway, this feeling is the log in the river, blocking the passage.
But, here, I push "save" and see if it does the trick.
December 22, 2010
fun characters, including Paris and houseboat. satisfying pace with fast thriller chop and more flowing character development. I agree with this review:
To shape the everyday happenings of the world into a good story — isn’t that what novelists are supposed to do best? Yet readers must often choose between “literary fiction,” understood to be works of well-written but meandering prose about the “real world” of human relationships, and “commercial fiction,” fast-paced novels in which plot is everything. The literary is assumed to be cerebral and artistic, the commercial mindless and entertaining. One suspects that nobody is completely happy with this divide. So it is a joy to discover, every once in a while, a writer whose prose and plotting take something from both camps. As Ted Mooney proves in his nuanced literary thriller “The Same River Twice,” it is perfectly possible to find a novel that has it all.
To shape the everyday happenings of the world into a good story — isn’t that what novelists are supposed to do best? Yet readers must often choose between “literary fiction,” understood to be works of well-written but meandering prose about the “real world” of human relationships, and “commercial fiction,” fast-paced novels in which plot is everything. The literary is assumed to be cerebral and artistic, the commercial mindless and entertaining. One suspects that nobody is completely happy with this divide. So it is a joy to discover, every once in a while, a writer whose prose and plotting take something from both camps. As Ted Mooney proves in his nuanced literary thriller “The Same River Twice,” it is perfectly possible to find a novel that has it all.
January 23, 2016
Wow. From the moment I began to read this book, I couldn't wait to finish it. Not because it was enthralling, but because it was dull and uninteresting. It's a story (maybe it's supposed to be a thriller) about some Parisians who get caught up in Russian mafia hijinks. Sounds fun, I know, but it isn't. I was hoping that Odile, the closest thing in the book to a protagonist, might die early on so that we could focus on a character with some apparent psychological motivation, but no luck. Sometimes books like this are vindicated by virtue of a really fun plot. Not so in this case; the plot is both predictable and improbable. The surprises in store for the reader are surprising not because of interesting and plausible twists of fate, but because we really are given no insight into why the characters are doing what they are doing. Don't waste time on this one unless you are looking for a soporific.
July 14, 2016
The writing was good quality and the execution of idea was well done, but the problem here is the idea. It itself did not invite an overtly interesting plot, and the ending felt rushed, like the author thought "I need to get this done in x pages and I don't have enough pages left". overall, the first half of the boom didn't really feel necessary, and the entire book felt like it was setting up, creating background, for the last 15 or so chapters. too much time was spent focusing on how Theirry was known and involved with odile (through the flag transport) and not enough spent on the actual story, about this doctor.
this being said, I wasn't quite sure if the story was about the doctor and helping him, or about this boat (which seemed a fruitless addition) and there was an overwhelming sense of "I don't know what to write this book about: a film maker, a boat restoration, a crime syndicate, a doctor held captive, a bad guy running a bank, or so on"
this being said, I wasn't quite sure if the story was about the doctor and helping him, or about this boat (which seemed a fruitless addition) and there was an overwhelming sense of "I don't know what to write this book about: a film maker, a boat restoration, a crime syndicate, a doctor held captive, a bad guy running a bank, or so on"
December 11, 2024
Reading this book felt like rushing through a dream: The characters are not fully formed, the settings and situations are never quite right, but it was the mood that mattered. Two twisting plots circled each other like noir movies spliced together, events a blur, giving the constant sense that I should be fighting for more control. But things moved so quickly I never got the chance.
Like his characters, we're to accept events as they come, and react emotionally. The book's power comes from these moods it evokes: indecision, confusion, sleaze and self-loathing, elation. It's a delicate balance for Mooney--any more detachment and I might have lost interest; any more clarity and I wouldn't have been so intrigued. Mooney's mastered that balance, and his writing's fantastic. Four stars for a very good book that might mess with your dreams.
Like his characters, we're to accept events as they come, and react emotionally. The book's power comes from these moods it evokes: indecision, confusion, sleaze and self-loathing, elation. It's a delicate balance for Mooney--any more detachment and I might have lost interest; any more clarity and I wouldn't have been so intrigued. Mooney's mastered that balance, and his writing's fantastic. Four stars for a very good book that might mess with your dreams.
August 13, 2010
I can't tell if this novel was brilliant or completely crazy, but I'm leaning towards the former. The plot seems almost like a fever dream, especially towards the end -- it's disjointed and hazy, but in some ways completely inevitable. Which, I suppose, is kind of the point.
I'm being very vague and mysterious here, but I don't want to give anything away. You can read a plot summary in lots of places, so I won't get into that, except to say that the plot is really only the beginning of the book. The characters are all believable (at least until the end, but the end is... yeah) and the writing is better than your average mystery.
I want someone else to read this -- and soon! -- so I can discuss it with someone. I think this would be a great selection for a book club or college class.
I'm being very vague and mysterious here, but I don't want to give anything away. You can read a plot summary in lots of places, so I won't get into that, except to say that the plot is really only the beginning of the book. The characters are all believable (at least until the end, but the end is... yeah) and the writing is better than your average mystery.
I want someone else to read this -- and soon! -- so I can discuss it with someone. I think this would be a great selection for a book club or college class.
October 1, 2011
I noticed, to my surprise, that are seven different books, by different authors, all with this title. If refers, of course, to the maxim of early Greek philosophy (I don't remember off hand which of the presocratics said it) that you can't step into the same river twice. In other words, everything is in flux. In the case of this novel, a literary thriller set in Paris, New York, and Moscow, the title--though never precisely explained--seems appropriate. The plot, on the surface level, is satisfyingly complex and exciting, with sympathetic characters and well-drawn backgrounds; however, a deeper level peeks through from time to time: a level in which characters have inexplicable deja vu and halucinatory episodes which suggest the flow of time moving in stange ways. This can be ignored, if you prefer, and the plot still works fine but it does add an interesting note of deeper mysteryies.
June 19, 2011
Art theft brings together a documentary film maker and some Russian mobsters in modern-day Paris. Loved the detail about Paris. The story is character driven, full of close examinations about relationships. It didn’t move really fast, but it did build enough suspense for me to worry that a character I liked would get bumped off. I would read more by this author.
[now some spoilers:]
As it turns out, the good guy does a bad thing (and gets away with it, easy-peasy), the woman I disliked also ends up just fine (I wanted her to have some consequences), and the guy who got killed probably didn’t deserve it (his only fault this time was that he was in love with a bad woman).
[now some spoilers:]
As it turns out, the good guy does a bad thing (and gets away with it, easy-peasy), the woman I disliked also ends up just fine (I wanted her to have some consequences), and the guy who got killed probably didn’t deserve it (his only fault this time was that he was in love with a bad woman).
February 19, 2013
I decided to read this book, at the suggestion of someone else that this was a page-turner. I love a good page-turner. Well, they were right, I was certainly turning the pages, but only to find out if anything interesting was going to happen. Or to find out if the action was going to continue. It seemed as if the author kept building up different scenes only to have them fizzle out. Girl gets snatched up by crazy goons and then they just let her go... I was expecting more from this book, but it just wasn't there.
December 31, 2010
No lack of action and plot in this thriller set in Paris, but not a lot of ideas. I liked reading this after "Disgrace", a book with just the reverse. One of the main characters is a film-maker who is shooting a film which features several of the other main characters, interesting details and maybe that's the key to this book. That it's cinematic is its technique, lots of jump cutting, looking at the surface of things, letting the meaning come from the sum of many small angles?
October 12, 2011
Beautiful losers in Paris.
For some reason, this book reminded me of Paul Bowles' The Sheltering Sky, but since it has been some time since I read that, I don't know why.
I couldn't figure out when this book took place. It had a moody '40s movie flle about it. They used cel phones, but the currency was Francs not Euros. Maybe that was intentional.
Only an OK read that got better reviews than I thought it deserved.
For some reason, this book reminded me of Paul Bowles' The Sheltering Sky, but since it has been some time since I read that, I don't know why.
I couldn't figure out when this book took place. It had a moody '40s movie flle about it. They used cel phones, but the currency was Francs not Euros. Maybe that was intentional.
Only an OK read that got better reviews than I thought it deserved.
March 9, 2015
I honestly didn't even finish this one. I got about 3/4 of the way through and asked myself, "What is this book even about?"
Smuggled Russian flags, art forgery, unauthorized movie recuts, a teenage girl who apparently sees the future, anarchists living next door who want to blow up a prison, affairs, a documentary about a boat, stem cell research...
Life's too short to waste on unfocused, rambling books.
Excuse me while I take some Tylenol. Trying to finish this one gave me a headache.
Smuggled Russian flags, art forgery, unauthorized movie recuts, a teenage girl who apparently sees the future, anarchists living next door who want to blow up a prison, affairs, a documentary about a boat, stem cell research...
Life's too short to waste on unfocused, rambling books.
Excuse me while I take some Tylenol. Trying to finish this one gave me a headache.
July 19, 2016
Genius.
I read a lot, normally fast paced thrillers. This is different but something about it grabbed my attention. The descriptive narrative sections are really evocative. Chracters are beautifully drawn. Interspersed are sections of shocking violence. There is an elegance here. If you are a fan of Nick Roegs film 'Dont Look Now', read this book.
Be prepared to take a bit of time its not a 2 day holiday thriller ...
I read a lot, normally fast paced thrillers. This is different but something about it grabbed my attention. The descriptive narrative sections are really evocative. Chracters are beautifully drawn. Interspersed are sections of shocking violence. There is an elegance here. If you are a fan of Nick Roegs film 'Dont Look Now', read this book.
Be prepared to take a bit of time its not a 2 day holiday thriller ...
January 14, 2011
The writing was beautiful, but I found the story both preposterous and uninteresting. I neither cared about the characters nor did I find their constant existential realizations charming or believable. There was a Buddhist theme to this book which was cool, but not enough for me to have enjoyed the reading experience. A disappointment for such a highly reviewed book.
February 13, 2011
This one had a lot of promise...interesting characters, seductive Parisian setting, some baffling intrigue, and good, crisp writing. But the author doesn't know when to stop and how to tie it all together. Too many characters, too many puzzling subplots, too many bizarre motivations, and a very unsatisfying denouement. Not worth the time.
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