The Believers by Zoe Heller – a book review

What makes us into the people we become? Are we the Michelangelos of our vulnerable cap shaped intestinally complex Davids, tucked safely and guarded by the skull? Is it us who scrupulously chisel, plaster, fill and colour the inevitably clingy, the invisible and interminable thoughts to design our masterpieces? Or do we indolently leave it for others? And whatever the final outcome of the design, is it ever final. No, I say, as nature and nurture fight it out to add their own strokes to it – either to enhance or to scar it. And the finest of sculptors have at times designed the ugliest pieces of art, haven’t they?

The Litvinoffs are who Zoe Heller writes about; a family of believers whose ties are loosely bound but their individual beliefs in life are almost non-negotiable, or so it seems. Mr. and Mrs. Litvinoff are a supercilious condescending bunch; they would never bend their thoughts for anyone; they wouldn’t think twice before imposing them on their children or friends though. The daughters are a contrast, one having given up the struggle to find answers and has been in an acceptance mode for a long time, the other arrogantly seeking answers she doesn’t have questions for. An adopted drug addict of a son is the only one Mrs. Litvinoff seems to care for; probably she enjoys the dependence he has on her – so much for control.

As Mr. Litvinoff lands up in hospital and is in a coma, a past is revealed. The story progresses smiling ruefully and mocking at the strength the characters portray in their thoughts and attitudes. Like being acted upon in a chemistry lab, Zoe Heller subtly immerses them in situations and lets them react and transform. They resist, accept, fight, think, discover with the other elements that are added to them gradually. And finally when they are poured out, magically they are of a different colour and shape, they are still believers, but changed ones, questioning their erstwhile beliefs.

As Pink Floyd sung, 

The lunatic is in my head
The lunatic is in my head
You raise the blade, you make the change
You rearrange me 'til I'm sane

You lock the door
And throw away the key
There's someone in my head but it's not me

Mrs. Litvinoff reminded me of Rupert from A Fairly Honourable Defeat by Iris Murdoch; though Rupert was not a despot like Mrs. Litvinoff, yet he was unbending in his thoughts and views. Like Murdoch, Zoe Keller shows us that there cannot exist a permanency in formidability – not in a stone, not in a human. Time and life are obstinate, relentless and ruthless forces; time and again they slacken the tautness of the most formidable, to show who they really are – mortal specks and nothing more. And when and in what form that happens, is the enigma called life; at times it's a discovery of being needed, like for Karla, at times it's a beckoning by religion, like for Rosa or at times being struck by an incident, questioning the very existence you've had for an entire married life, like for Mrs. Audrey Litvinoff. Keller’s strong willed characters resonated very well with me; I have met a few like them myself, only to know the ostentatious façade of will they build around them, to stay protected in their fight to understand their existence. Only that they are as strong and as weak as you and me. This is the second book by Zoe Heller that I’ve read, the first one being ‘Notes on a scandal’. She truly knows her characters and makes sure you know them as deeply as she does. Intelligently and subtly written, I enjoyed it immensely.

My rating: 5/5

Images copyright:

Book cover: © https://www.amazon.co.uk/Believers-Penguin-Street-Art/dp/0141024674

Zoe Heller: © https://www.amazon.co.uk/Zoe-Heller/e/B001H6NVYI%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share