As my repertoire of books increases, I find myself stifling the urge to compare the most recent book to all of those that have come before. It’s a learning curve that will someday work itself out, I hope. But not today. A lot of past titles came to mind as I read this particular piece.
The first comparison I am inclined to make is to The Coming Storm. This book introduced me to the idea of presenting characters in the much more intimate third person-personal voice, in a way that allows the intimacy to be shared among all characters, by rotating through them. Generally, the rotation occurs at each chapter break. Storm used this technique in a manner not all that far removed from the way Bach composed Baroque music: with a splendid mathematical precision that appears simple at first blush but really is remarkably complex. Here in Circus, the rotation is less formal and rigid. Each chapter has one speaker, but there is no way to know ahead of time who the next speaker is, nor is there any guarantee that the timeline won’t back up a bit to allow some overlap, and thus, the ability to observe the same scene from a different angle. So all in all, I think the technique is used very well here, and I enjoyed that. The only book in which I’ve seen this technique used badly is Dancer.
The plot is a bit reminiscent of Last Summer but not nearly as fluffy. There are a lot of characters who are all converging predictably to a showdown, followed by a happy ending. But at least there are plenty of unhappy and realistic moments along the way. Characterization is generally strong, but the male characters fare much better. Perhaps I am spoiled on the heels of Water from the Moon, but I felt that the female characters here were weak. To be fair, all the characters had their weaknesses. One of the great things about the rotating speaker technique is the ability to see just how thoroughly these characters make assumptions about each other and how thoroughly they are wrong.
The setting is the dreaded depths of New York City. Luckily, this author doesn’t get bogged down in the usual environmental ugliness that plague other stories, say like Dancer from the Dance. Its focus is far more centered on its characters; specifically the artistic crowds; specifically the theater. The characters are all actors, directors, producers, fans, reviewers, and the parents that support them in the best way they can. As such, it is a pretty good glimpse into a particular slice of New York life, and although it isn’t the tutorial or wild ride that In the City of Shy Hunters was, it holds its own pretty well. As to whether it is an accurate depiction of life in the theater, I cannot say. I was a thespian for only one play, in high school. The only part that seemed hokey to me was the notion that Frank’s play would be disastrous in front of a regular audience, but somehow magically come together and be loved by The New York Times two hours later, when everyone knew that a British bigwig actor would be in the audience. It seems to me that it should have been the other way round, but who knows.
All in all, I guess I was happy to have read this book.