AUDITION

An older woman and a younger man struggle to grasp who they are to each other in a slippery and penetrating tale.

This elegant knife of a story begins at a mundane restaurant in Manhattan's financial district, which the narrator hesitates to enter. Inside, she orders two gin and tonics over a strained lunch encounter with Xavier, who has said he believes he might be her son. The narrator is an actress of some renown rehearsing a difficult new play called The Opposite Shore. It isn’t going well, and the actress realizes it falls to her to reconcile two impossible halves in its structure. As she fights through her dread, the novel launches Part II months later in the same restaurant, where Xavier and the actress are joined by her husband, Tomas, who toasts “the extraordinary success of the play.” In this jarring reset, the trio is now a family, the play is now called The Rivers, and the novel is mirroring the irreconcilable halves the narrator sought to resolve on stage with her body and her art. Kitamura rewards close readers of this through-the-looking-glass disruption. So much glints below the surface in her purring, pared-down sentences. When Xavier introduces his girlfriend, “Tomas took her hand in his, his smile already an embarrassment to us both.” Kitamura’s great theme, explored via two other nameless female narrators in A Separation (2017) and Intimacies (2021), is the unknowability of others. This novel posits that even within a family, each member is constantly auditioning. As the tension mounts, and the narrator’s interpretation of events coils back and multiplies, she wonders “what was a family if not a shared delusion, a mutual construction?” Over the shards of this realization, the shaken narrator and Xavier find “the possibility remained—not of a reconciliation, but of a reconstitution.” The book ends as another play begins.

In this searing, chilly, and psychologically profound story lies insight into some harrowing human questions.