Zadie Smith shows her development with 'NW'
By David L. Ulin
Published: Saturday, Oct. 6, 2012, 9:00 p.m.
Zadie Smith's fourth novel, “NW,” is a return of sorts to the voices and the northwest London landscape of her 2000 debut, “White Teeth.” Like that book, it is exuberant, lush with language, concerned with the relationship of people to their city, with framing not just the lives of characters but also an entire social milieu. And yet, it is more than that, a real sign of how Smith has developed and grown.
“White Teeth,” after all, was the work of a young writer — Smith was 24 when it was published — and it was marked by a young writer's excess, a young writer's lack of control.
In the decade since, she has done her share of growing up in public, producing a self-conscious homage to E.M. Forster, “On Beauty” and producing a series of very smart critical essays, gathered in the 2009 collection “Changing My Mind,” that originally appeared in publications such as the New Yorker and The New York Review of Books.
“NW” suggests that she has found a way to balance these considerations — the experiential and the literary or, more accurately, the outer and the inner life. It is a terrific novel: deeply ambitious, an attempt to use literature as a kind of excavation while at the same time remaining intensely readable, intensely human, a portrait of the way we live.
Built around four contemporaries — Leah, Felix, Natalie and Nathan — who intersect and break apart like ions, the book is an inquiry into many things: consciousness, mortality, community, isolation but, perhaps most important, how identity becomes a creation of the stories we tell about ourselves. “People were not people,” Smith writes, “but merely an effect of language. You could conjure them up and kill them in a sentence.”
Smith makes such an intention explicit from the outset, opening “NW” with an extended stream-of-consciousness section, “Visitation,” about the story of Leah, a 30-something community activist who studied philosophy because “(p)hilosophy is learning how to die.” The sequence highlights a subtle dislocation, because it is not dying that is Leah's problem but, rather, learning how to live.
“I am eighteen in my mind,” she thinks, “I am eighteen and if I do nothing if I stand still nothing will change I will be eighteen always. For always. Time will never stop. I'll never die.”
This is a key point, not just for Leah but for everyone, all adrift in the present, unmoored from the future and the past. In part, Smith indicates, that has to do with history; her characters are in the most fundamental sense uprooted, raised in marginal neighborhoods, from immigrant families, their attention directed from the earliest age at moving beyond. But even more, it has to do with something bigger, the way that, in an era of self-absorption, the transition from childhood to adulthood no longer seems as clearly demarcated as it once did.
For Leah, this is both existential condition and social reality: childless, relatively uncommitted despite being married, she drifts through her life like a spirit or a wraith.
The central issue that recurs and recombines throughout the book's five sections — one each for the four main characters, with a return to Leah in the end — is authenticity, which Smith frames as a construct, as if not only can we not know other people, but, in the most fundamental sense, we don't know ourselves.
Nowhere is this more powerful (and moving) than in regard to Leah and Natalie, who both love and misunderstand each other in the way that only close friends can.
Natalie appears to have it all, but the truth is far more complicated, as we understand once Smith opens up her inner life. From the beginning, she has felt indistinct, as if without a personality — “the defeating sense that her own shadow was identical to all the rest, and to the house next door, and the house next to that.”
To Natalie, who as a teen changed her name from Keisha, this is all a matter of identity, a condition Smith emphasizes by referring to her always by her full name: Natalie Blake. The idea is to remind us that adulthood is a part she's playing, but the deeper resonance has to do with authenticity. Personality, Natalie understands, is elusive, a question of surfaces, of what we own, what we consume, rather than who we are. The inner life is defined by the outer, by the food we eat, the phones we use, even the ideals we espouse.
Were Smith less interested in language, this could be the stuff of easy irony, of literature masked as social commentary. But the power of the novel is that she continually digs beneath these surfaces, exposing not hypocrisy so much as the emptiness that all her characters feel.
There is a plot here, a loose one that begins when Leah gets scammed by a crack addict and winds its way to a tragic confluence in which all the main characters are involved. That, however, is the least part of the novel: a concession to some need for resolution, which (paradoxically) “NW” doesn't need.
David L. Ulin is a staff writer for the Los Angeles Times.
Show commenting policy
TribLive commenting policy
You are solely responsible for your comments and by using TribLive.com you agree to our Terms of Service.
We moderate comments. Our goal is to provide substantive commentary for a general readership. By screening submissions, we provide a space where readers can share intelligent and informed commentary that enhances the quality of our news and information.
While most comments will be posted if they are on-topic and not abusive, moderating decisions are subjective. We will make them as carefully and consistently as we can. Because of the volume of reader comments, we cannot review individual moderation decisions with readers.
We value thoughtful comments representing a range of views that make their point quickly and politely. We make an effort to protect discussions from repeated comments either by the same reader or different readers.
We follow the same standards for taste as the daily newspaper. A few things we won't tolerate: personal attacks, obscenity, vulgarity, profanity (including expletives and letters followed by dashes), commercial promotion, impersonations, incoherence, proselytizing and SHOUTING. Don't include URLs to Web sites.
We do not edit comments. They are either approved or deleted. We reserve the right to edit a comment that is quoted or excerpted in an article. In this case, we may fix spelling and punctuation.
We welcome strong opinions and criticism of our work, but we don't want comments to become bogged down with discussions of our policies and we will moderate accordingly.
We appreciate it when readers and people quoted in articles or blog posts point out errors of fact or emphasis and will investigate all assertions. But these suggestions should be sent via e-mail. To avoid distracting other readers, we won't publish comments that suggest a correction. Instead, corrections will be made in a blog post or in an article.
- Father-son funeral directors lead community
- Clairton Meals on Wheels puts new van in immediate service
- Keisel might be at end of Steelers career
- Penguins’ leads evaporate in loss to Sharks
- Google barge departs San Francisco to new home
- Westmoreland man’s walk in Niagara Falls State Park wasn’t allowed, police say
- After long layoff, Frazier, Mt. Pleasant girls set for PIAA tournament
- Neighbor in East Liberty sisters’ slayings may be part of murder-for-hire case
- Judge to Cook Township drug suspect: Get new friends
- Sharks praise ex-teammate, newest Penguins player Goc
- McKeesport middle school student struck by dump truck dies in hospital