I / THE BOOK
Synopsis
Tom Quinn—a failed novelist and son of a servant—returns to the great house of his childhood, believing he is immune to the family that both moulded and humiliated him.
Commissioned by its late patriarch to write up the Hallorans, he imagines this will be his literary break. The commission offers unrestricted access into one of Europe’s wealthies families—and his one chance at fame. It also places the former maid’s son in an intoxicating new position: the Hallorans must now answer to him.
But the family is determined to control him.
The Biographer
In some respects, I too am a surgeon.
An opener of dark compartments, an operator on souls.
—T. Q.
Synopsis
Alexandre Cabanel, L’Ange déchu, 1847
Tom Quinn—a failed novelist and son of a servant—returns to the great house of his childhood, believing he is immune to the family that both moulded and humiliated him.
Commissioned by its late patriarch to write up the Hallorans, he imagines this will be his literary break. The commission offers unrestricted access into one of Europe’s wealthies families—and his one chance at fame. It also places the former maid’s son in an intoxicating new position: the Hallorans must now answer to him.
But the family is determined to control him.
As Tom interviews the formidable widow and her beautiful children, he is courted, threatened, seduced, and gradually drawn into a disastrous triangle between two sisters—one a cunning socialite who desires him, the other a one-legged, angelic beauty whom he loves with ruinous devotion.
Meanwhile, old secrets begin tearing the household apart. All the while Tom insists he is merely observing, even as he becomes the most compromised person in the room. And when the dead man’s true instructions finally emerge, he must decide whether telling the truth is an act of neutrality, justice, or revenge.
What begins as a glittering family biography becomes an investigation into a tragedy everyone remembers differently. But the closer Tom comes to the truth, the less certain it becomes that he is exposing the Hallorans—or becoming one of them.
THE BIOGRAPHER
"In some respects, I too am a surgeon. An opener of dark compartments—an operator on souls."
— T.Q.
I / THE BOOK
As Tom interviews the formidable widow and her beautiful children, he is courted, threatened, seduced, and gradually drawn into a disastrous triangle between two sisters—one a cunning socialite who desires him, the other a one-legged, angelic beauty whom he loves with ruinous devotion.
Meanwhile, old secrets begin tearing the household apart. All the while Tom insists he is merely observing, even as he becomes the most compromised person in the room. And when the dead man’s true instructions finally emerge, he must decide whether telling the truth is an act of neutrality, justice, or revenge.
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What begins as a glittering family biography becomes an investigation into a tragedy everyone remembers differently. But the closer Tom comes to the truth, the less certain it becomes that he is exposing the Hallorans—or becoming one of them.
II / THE NARRATOR
Tom is a character I am truly proud of. He isn't based on anyone, which is to say he is based on everyone. There are men I have known in him, old friends, enemies, people I loved, people I understood too late. There is also, at times, quite a lot of me.
I gave him vanity, tenderness, resentment, appetite, cowardice, intelligence, and the inimitable kind of self-knowledge that somehow fails to prevent—and actually provokes—disaster. He can be cruel and extraordinarily kind within the same afternoon. He sees through almost everyone except himself. He believes his intelligence has made him objective, when in fact it has merely made him more articulate about his blindness.
I find him wonderful. Partly because he is so badly assembled. People usually are. We inherit one instinct from here, another wound from there, acquire a few principles, break several of them, and eventually call it a personality. In that sense, Tom is a spectacular animal. He contains many of the contradictions I have noticed in other people, and several I have noticed in myself. I suspect that is why I know how he moves. And why, despite everything he does, I remain very fond of him.
I / THE NARRATOR
Synopsis
Tom is a character I am truly proud of. He isn't based on anyone, which is to say he is based on everyone. There are men I have known in him, old friends, enemies, people I loved, people I understood too late. There is also, at times, quite a lot of me.
I gave him vanity, tenderness, resentment, appetite, cowardice, intelligence, and the inimitable kind of self-knowledge that somehow fails to prevent—and in fact provokes—disaster. He can be cruel and extraordinarily kind within the same afternoon. He sees through almost everyone except himself. He believes his intelligence has made him objective, when in fact it has merely made him more articulate about his blindness.
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States of Decay
Library Bar
I find him wonderful. Partly because he is so badly assembled. People usually are. We inherit one instinct from here, another wound from there, acquire a few principles, break several of them, and eventually call it a personality. In that sense, Tom is a spectacular animal. He contains many of the contradictions I have noticed in other people, and several I have noticed in myself. I suspect that is why I know how he moves. And why, despite everything he does, I remain very fond of him.
II / THE NARRATOR
Tom is a character I am truly proud of. He isn't based on anyone, which is to say he is based on everyone. There are men I have known in him, old friends, enemies, people I loved, people I understood too late. There is also, at times, quite a lot of me.
I gave him vanity, tenderness, resentment, appetite, cowardice, intelligence, and the inimitable kind of self-knowledge that somehow fails to prevent—and in fact provokes—disaster. He can be cruel and extraordinarily kind within the same afternoon. He sees through almost everyone except himself. He believes his intelligence has made him objective, when in fact it has merely made him more articulate about his blindness and his prejudices.
I find him wonderful. Partly because he is so badly assembled. Many people are. We inherit one instinct from here, another wound from there, acquire a few principles, break several of them, and eventually call it a personality. In that sense, Tom is a spectacular animal. He contains many of the contradictions I have noticed in other people, and several I have noticed in myself. I suspect that is why I know how he moves. And why, despite everything he does, I remain very fond of him.
