Second Place ⭑⭑⭑⭑

Genre: Literary Fiction

US Publication: May 4, 2021

Print: 192 pages

Audio: 6 hours 19 minutes

Confetti Rating: 4 stars

REVIEW:

I feel like Rachel Cusk and everyone who has already read and reviewed her latest novel, Second Place, is smarter than me. By a lot. Like they’re all in Mensa, and I’m over here eating paste in the corner.

In fact, I have to admit I’d never even heard of Cusk before - even though she’s clearly a literary genius. Can I tell you why I chose to pick this book up then? No. Can I tell you if I’m glad I did? Yes.

Second Place is as literary as modern literary fiction can get. There could easily be an entire university course on the novel itself, demanding students of the written word unpack and interpret every potential meaning behind the title and story.

And what is the story? A middle aged woman invites a painter to stay in her guesthouse with the hope he’ll use her as the subject of one of his masterpieces. When does it take place? No idea - could be 1921, could be 2021. Where does it take place? Also no idea - could be Europe, could be America.

What I do know is that I was captivated by the audiobook from start to finish. Kate Fleetwood’s moody narration enhanced the heady atmosphere, transporting me to a time and place I’m too dumb to fully understand but smart enough to appreciate.

My thanks to the author and Macmillan Audio for my gifted advance listeners copy via NetGalley. Second Place is now available.

PUBLISHER SYNOPSIS:

A haunting fable of art, family, and fate from the author of the Outline trilogy.

A woman invites a famous artist to use her guesthouse in the remote coastal landscape where she lives with her family. Powerfully drawn to his paintings, she believes his vision might penetrate the mystery at the center of her life. But as a long, dry summer sets in, his provocative presence itself becomes an enigma — and disrupts the calm of her secluded household.

Second Place, Rachel Cusk’s electrifying new novel, is a study of female fate and male privilege, the geometries of human relationships, and the moral questions that animate our lives. It reminds us of art’s capacity to uplift — and to destroy.