Nuanced characters are the hallmarks of good fiction. Plot is important and all, but without an interesting perspective, narrative and thematic potential flounder under bland interpretation.
Rachel Cusk’s “Outline” takes the importance of character-work to an extreme. A plot summary is an insufficient and boring introduction–a woman, our narrator, goes to Athens to teach a writing course. It’s the people she meets along the way that build the narrative.
Over “Outline’s” 250-ish pages, gone is traditional plotting, gone is story structure, gone is motivation and gone is action. In place of that journey is a journey of personal encounters. The narrator is an almost silent presence, asking questions, listening intently and only occasionally interjecting with an observation or insight of her own.
An airplane seating companion, the pupils in her writing course, a friend at dinner–all seem specially poised to spill their innermost secrets: tales of heartbreak and grief, observations of humanity. In their stories, our narrator’s own story is shakily and vaguely revealed.
Plotting human hypocrisy and complexity, lies and half-truths, awkwardness and connection, “Outline” paints an emotional landscape that is difficult to take in. In the minute brushstrokes of its dialogues-turned-almost-monologues lie subtle and important discussions of love, relationships and personal growth.
“Outline’s” outline is poignant and memorable.
