It’s been a while since I’ve shared my revelations with the internet. Rest assured, it’s not because I haven’t had any. If anything, I’m more voracious than ever in terms of the material I’m chomping down on.
In two weeks, I’ve read three books, all by the same author. After reading Ishmael and Story of B last semester, I opened my year with a trip to the public library, where I checked out everything they have to offer by Quinn. Adding My Ishmael and Providence to my list of partially digested (mentally!) works, last night I curled up with After Dachau. At 4:30 this morning I’ve just finished it. It’s been years since I’ve devoured a book in one setting, and I wish I could say that this time it was because the book was so good. Quite the opposite.
Compared to the previous Quinn novels I’ve read, After Dachau is a supreme let down. What makes Quinn’s other works so irresistible is his ability to package challenging, paradigm-shattering revelatory philosophy in the structure of a cogent, evocative story. With Story of B, I felt he wavered marginally in this regard, getting caught in the story and neglecting his purpose. But if Story of B is a marginal misstep, After Dachau is an embarrassing tumble. The lesson of After Dachau is entirely incomprehensible by the story- While the exposition is handled flawlessly and the Shyamalan-esque twist is performed masterfully by Quinn, shortly after this reveal the plot spins out of control, leaving the intrigued reader high and dry.
This is not to say that After Dachau’s philosophy falls flat- rather, the story ultimately overtakes the philosophy, so that the potential of the novel is undermined by plot holes, an issue not found in Quinn’s other works because the story was always a vehicle for Quinn’s Purpose. In After Dachau, the story is in the driver’s seat, and the Purpose is left far behind. Readers of Quinn’s novels and Providence will be aware that many of his ideas have formed over the course of his lifetime, arriving in their current written form finally chiseled and distilled for full effect. Unfortunately, After Dachau is an evolved idea that Quinn presents as a whole novel which he more concisely explained in a previous work- in my opinion to greater effect.
Regarding Ishmael: Not since Jeffery Eugenides’ Middlesex have I desperately handed copies of a book to everyone I know in the hopes that the book would enact an understanding in them the way it did in me. For a number of months now I have been struggling with what I’ve taken from Ishmael and its sequels. I’m in a mindset now to say that I cannot recommend any book more vehemently than I do Ishmael. For me, the natural reaction to Ishmael is to continue along the path through Quinn’s other works. Upon completing each of Quinn's novels I have felt a distinct feeling of panic, as if I have been deposited in the wilderness and left to find my own way home. With the Ishmael books this panic was somehow empowering, but with After Dachau there is no panic, just a feeling of inexplicable angst, like an unresolved chord.
Unfortunately for me, After Dachau was a misstep, not for the story it attempted to tell, but ultimately because the “lesson” was hijacked by a plot that started strong, ended weak, and resisted all attempts at achieving Quinn’s signature “oomph!”
You really should write book reviews. You're clearly amazing at it. I completely know the feeling of panic that comes at the end of the Ishmael books, though you put it into words better than I could've. Sucks to hear that Quinn has written a bad book though, but it's bound to happen, I suppose.
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