Review: The Correspondent

Hearing that a fellow North Carolinian author had written a surprising fictional bestseller, I was curious to see if she would produce something closer to Where the Crawdads sing, a dark and satisfying murder epic, or possibly Safe Haven, a romantic thrill ride that was the high point of Nicholas’ Sparks career.

Instead, after reading it, I felt quite figuratively but emotionally like I was dying on a boat, not by drowning, but by sunburn. 

A friend once criticized one of my fictional books by saying that I had written a character “not sympathetic enough.”  Well then, wait till she gets a load of Sybil Van Antwerp, the crotchety old woman who makes me hate crotchety old women. 

In fairness, author Virginia Evans attempted to write an entire novel in an epistolary format, which is to say the entire book is told in letters and emails; there is an exchange between Sybil and an Asian tech worker where Sybil volunteers to help this tech worker land a cushy job in an American firm.  There are number of these exchanges playing out in The Correspondent at the same time; Sybil writes letters to a young boy named Harry of no relation, but caught in a vaguely abusive family and who writes back (unbelievingly).

I criticized Theo of Golden for effectively being old person/ Christian fan service; here I need to turn up that criticism to eleven.  Theo was at least a reasonable person; this woman reminds me of a Jewish mother on her second marriage in how no one should want to write to her for any reason other than they absolutely have to or they need money.  That the characters willingly write her, seemingly in droves and often unannounced, causes me to immediately disbelieve the “constructed reality” of the novel.

I think Virginia Evans wanted to write an epistolary novel and so she did; glad to see she accomplished her goal.  But there is no action that happens “between the letters,” which is one of the reasons why I can’t give this book a better rating.  What I mean by this is that in one season, Sybil is stalked by an unknown male; she writes him pleading for him to stop or at least plead his case.  HE DOES EXACTLY WHAT SHE SAYS.  There is no action, no implied confrontation between letters.  He basically falls on his knees and writes Sybil on exactly why he is stalking her and threatening her, which relates to a judicial case where Sybil had put his father behind bars on false charges; SHE ACCEPTS HIS CHARGE. 

What would be more interesting about this situation is either he tries to in-person confront her, and they hash out the aftermath in letters (preferably of a legal nature), or she disputes his charge (after all, she is a judge) and they argue about it and escalate tension.

Evans had a golden opportunity to escalate tension in the book, but she chooses to deflate it with immediate feedback instead, making the book a flat retrospective, rather than an engrossing thriller.

There is one mysterious situation; it relates to Sybil’s relationship with her estranged daughter.  We find out about the cause of this tension at the very end of the drama; it is highly disappointing.  The cause (no spoilers), just like in Theo of Golden, comes out of nowhere and does not relate to the rest of the novel nor any characters that I care about, which makes me want to tear my hair out. 

What is with this recent novel trend where authors seem to think they can reward readers who finish their book with a sad turd of a conclusion based on unrelated characters? 

I live and work in an industry that is losing value not because of AI; not because J.K. Rowling no longer writes books but produces tweets; but because bestsellers are books like this. 

Where is the “higher” and “moral” purpose of finishing The Correspondent?  Do I, by pondering the disagreeable Sybil Van Antwerp, feel elevated in understanding her or her generation? 

Or am I reminded of that toady Hillary Clinton, who thought that we should elect her as President because she’s a “grandmother?”  I still remember one of the most acerbic critiques of her 2016 campaign: that people don’t want their grandmother to be President.

Strange that said critique would apply here.   

1 star.