There’s an almost existential challenge facing the writer of fiction who opts to include a different creative discipline in their own work. If a fictional movie, song, or play is at the heart of a short story or novel and it’s in no way convincing, the whole edifice could come tumbling down. One can be a talented writer of fiction without necessarily being (for instance) a great pop lyricist – but if a character in your novel is that, it’s going to be very hard for that novel to be convincing without something that sounds potentially chart-topping.
In her debut novel “Soft Features,” Maine author Gillian Burnes offers a variation on this, and she mostly gets it right. Set in the mid-1990s – references to O.J. Simpson, Seinfeld and Angus King’s tenure as Maine’s governor all come up – “Soft Features” tells the story of a critical period in the life of Coralie Threlfell, a public radio reporter. “I almost got to interview Oliver Sacks once,” Coralie says at one point – and that brief anecdote reveals plenty about her professional status and frustrations.
Early in the novel, Coralie faints while at work. It’s the first indication that readers get that all is not well in her life, despite the presence of a relatively rewarding job and a pleasant home life with her husband Lonny and their children. Lonny is, in his spare time, a writer of young adult novels that he’s attempting to get published; periodically, Burnes features short excerpts from his work as Coralie sits down to read it.
It’s not the only case of found text making its way into the larger novel. At times, Burnes shifts from prose to transcripts of radio broadcasts, giving the reader a more immersive sense of the work being done by Coralie and her colleagues. These sections seem entirely plausible as public radio segments, giving “Soft Features” an appropriately lived-in feeling.
That device isn’t the only way in which Burnes immerses the reader in Coralie’s life. How Coralie sees and hears the world also feels consistent with someone who has spent many years working in radio: “A nice long stretch of crepuscular nat sound [naturally occurring ambient sound when something is recorded] will signify solitude and mystery, the wild from which the mythical Goblin makes its sorties,” she thinks late in the novel. And the lived-in aspects don’t just apply to Coralie’s work life. Her candor about parenting is also made clear:
“Teaching your four-year-old to bottle-feed a calf is so photo-album lovely that the rest of the world should vanish under your upwelling happiness, but in fact all you’re aware of are the air bubbles in the bottle, how much faster you could just do this yourself…”
The story of Coralie’s life is told episodically. Her work brings her into contact with a wide range of people, from the crew of the Loaves and Fishes, a vessel providing medical and religious care to “every inhabited rock and up every settled inlet in Maine and the Bay of Fundy,” to scientists exploring the boundaries of human memory. Besides Coralie’s increasing alienation from both her job and her family, the other element that runs throughout the novel is her investigation of the so-called Ptarmigan Pond Goblin, a mysterious figure with a penchant for stealing odd things – including old comic books and packets of instant ramen. The character seems to be based on Maine’s real-life North Pond Hermit.
There’s a lot to like about “Soft Features,” beginning with its sense of place and community. Coralie and her friends, family and colleagues are all presented in believable terms, and the small details of her public radio work – from recording techniques to fundraising approaches – are described with enough detail to feel compelling. The episodic nature of the novel also largely works, keeping the focus on Coralie’s inner conflict rather than – for instance – one big story that might change her life. At times, this novel can be subtle to a fault; still, it’s hard to imagine a more melodramatic version of the book would be preferable to what Burnes has actually written.
The book’s resolution ties Coralie’s ongoing questions about her life with the public radio milieu in which this novel is set. It’s a well-structured ending that brings many elements of “Soft Features” full circle, exploring both the limitations of what one form of storytelling can do and finding the ways through which it can be transcendent.
New York City resident Tobias Carroll is the author of three books: “Political Sign,” “Reel” and “Transitory.” He has reviewed books for the New York Times, Bookforum, the Star Tribune and elsewhere.
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