Five Reasons to Read and Love DAY FOR NIGHT by Frederick Reiken

2010 at 7am     Posted by Rebecca Joines Schinsky

Published April 2010 by Reagan Arthur Books

See the beautiful cover image?  Notice how it makes you feel like you’re about to enter into something magical?  It’s not lying. You can judge Day for Night by its cover, and you will be RIGHT.  This beautifully told, surprisingly complex, completely unforgettable novel defies summary…so I’m giving you the publisher’s description and then five reasons why you should read it and love it as much as I did.  I’m also doing some compare-and-contrast (that’s the last point, so keep reading), which I don’t usually do within the context of reviews. Hope you like the new format.

From the publisher:

“If you look hard enough into the history of anything, you will discover things that seem to be connected but are not.” So claims a character in Frederick Reiken’s wonderful, surprising novel, which seems in fact to be determined to prove just the opposite. How else to explain the threads that link a middle-aged woman on vacation in Florida with a rock and roll singer visiting her comatose brother in Utah, where he’s been transported after a motorcycle injury in Israel, where he works with a man whose long-lost mother, in a retirement community in New Jersey, recognizes him in a televised report about an Israeli-Palestinian skirmish? And that’s not the half of it.

In DAY FOR NIGHT, critically acclaimed writer Frederick Reiken spins an unlikely and yet utterly convincing story about people lost and found. They are all refugees from their own lives or history’s cruelties, and yet they wind up linked to each other in compelling and unpredictable ways that will keep you guessing until the very end.

Day for Night is dream-y.

The cover image refers to an incident in the opening story during which two characters come upon a carousel that has fallen into the ocean and become a temporary home for a group of manatees. The image itself is dreamlike—who would believe stumbling upon such a thing in waking life?—and Reiken’s rendering makes it stunning and peaceful and almost comforting, in a way.

A character wears a pendant called a wonder stone.

Another character records her dreams and shares them with her oldest friend, the guardian of her heart.

Characters spend much time in and around the ocean. They remark that, at times, they feel that they are living in a dream. They take in the beauty and the strangeness of life, and they express, with great eloquence, the recognition that life is often absurd.

Weird things happen, and, because of the way Reiken presents them, they seem normal. Day for Night borders on magical realism in the very best way and entices readers to leave their lived realities and enter into the dream.     

Reiken resists cliché.

As the characters in Day for Night discover the ways in which they are connected—and as Reiken leads readers to draw their own conclusions—questions about life’s big issues—fate and coincidence, good and evil, meaning and emptiness—abound.  While this is hardly new terrain for literary fiction (in fact, it is trod so often that one friend of The Book Lady’s Blog separates literary fiction from commercial fiction based on the presence or absence of Big Questions), Reiken brings a fresh perspective, gorgeous prose, and a refusal to resort to time-worn platitudes.

This is one of those intangible qualities that makes it necessary for readers to experience a book for themselves, and, combined with many other fabulous features, it makes Day for Night a must-read.

The answers are not obvious.

As indicated in the synopsis above, Day for Night is all about connections and people who are trying to make sense of the ways their lives are intertwined (that is, when they know their lives are intertwined…some of the connections are never revealed).  Reiken unfolds his characters’ stories so skillfully, so subtly, that readers must not only pay attention but must pay careful attention and invest time and thought.  (What a novel concept, right?!)

Reiken does not answer every question, but when he does, he does it quietly, nudging us into a gradual understanding, whispering in our ears to encourage us that we are getting warmer.

He doesn’t make it easy. If you miss a sentence, you can miss a whole story. But he does make it incredibly enjoyable.

And…

Reiken trusts his readers’ intelligence.

This is where the nudging and whispering come in. Reiken has written a book of a certain quality, that will attract a certain type of reader. And he knows it.

(Thank goodness for that!)

There are no neat, tidy, or predictable endings in Day for Night. For some characters, there are no endings at all. Reiken leaves many questions open-ended and forces us to sit with the unknown, to accept that, just as his characters cannot make sense of every last detail of their lives, neither can we.

And the ambiguity is delicious.

Not only that. It’s important.

It is very natural to see all of these things as a big puzzle you must assemble. I will suggest…that certain pieces will not fit, not now or ever, and that you must learn to live with these ambiguities. You must also learn to trust these ambiguities. This is perhaps the most important thing I know.

I suppose that for some readers—those who like stories that are wrapped up in pretty little bows—this could be frustrating. Maddening, even. But I think it’s fan-freaking-tastic. I love it when an author trusts readers to figure things out for themselves and is willing to take the risk of leaving some questions unanswered.

There’s great beauty in not knowing everything, and Reiken just *gets* that.

Day for Night is the book Beatrice & Virgil wanted to be.

I adored Day for Night. I loved Beatrice & Virgil not-so-much. And here’s why.

(Also: where Beatrice & Virgil is pretty much entirely about the Holocaust, Day for Night is only partially so….but it still tackles the subject with greater agility.)

It took Yann Martel at least fifty pages to discuss the importance of writing fiction about the Holocaust and to make some important (if pretentious, at least in his presentation) points about the function of narrative. Frederick Reiken does it in just a few well-placed sentences.

First, a character recognizes that he is actively constructing a narrative about another character.

It was hard to resist speaking to this woman. She seemed to be the kind of woman who had seen things, who was wise, or who could warn you about the future. Probably this was just me inventing her. Dee says I do this all the time.

Then another character explores story this way:

I recognize that we are all magicians in some way. We are complicit in all we see and comprehend that what we see will never coincide with absolute reality.

As a result, the human brain must make a narrative.

And then there’s this:

Perhaps the meaning of the story is that you must look deep rather than far if you want to unlock any of the secrets of the universe.

In Day for Night, Frederick Reiken proves that it is possible to tell a complex and fascinating story that functions to entertain and enlighten and, at the same time, to explore the function of story itself and the importance of fiction in bearing witness to real, lived horror.

Where Martel struggled and resorted to muddled metaphors and shock-value surprise twists, Reiken shines by giving his characters the voice and insight to examine their experiences—however horrific—from a crucial and critical distance. Says one character, reflecting on her time in a Auschwitz and the way in which giving up allowed her to go on:

I did not care if I lived or died. I did not care about anything that was done to me. I did not care, at a certain point, what was done to others. I didn’t live because I was virtuous. I am called a survivor, but I survived only because I did not care. Because this made it harder for them to torture me. Because they knew that living was my torture. This is the dark corner of my soul and I do not think, if there is a heaven, I will go to it.

Sure, you could read and enjoy Day for Night just for what sits on the surface, for the complex and intriguing web Reiken weaves between his characters, but there is much, much more to this fine novel, and what I’ve given you here is just a taste.

Conclusion: Frederick Reiken’s Day for Night is, without a doubt, pantyworthy.

If you have a minute, I’d love to hear what you think about this format. I wanted to shake things up a bit and am thinking about doing these posts in lieu of formal reviews every now and then. Thanks!

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