A review by andreeavis
Transit by Rachel Cusk

emotional reflective slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? No

5.0

Imagine a kaleidoscope. You peer through the lens and witness a fragmented world - shards of colour and light constantly shifting, forming fleeting patterns before dissolving into the next. This is the experience of reading Rachel Cusk’s second novel of the Outline trilogy, Transit. 

The narrative unfolds not as a linear narrative, with a concrete plot that keeps you engaged, but as a puzzle built from fragments of conversations. Here, Faye, a writer who navigates the wreckage of her broken marriage, acts as a conduit for a series of conversations. Each interaction - with a stylist pondering the nature of want, a writer grappling with mortality, a single mother drowning in the mundane - becomes a piece of the puzzle of Faye’s perspective and, perhaps, our own. 

But, beneath the surface, Transit simmers with deeper questions. Through her conversations, Faye tries to come to terms with the grief caused by her divorce, the subsequent move to London with her sons and the hardships of being a single mother while trying to build a career. The questions she asks her interlocutors revolve around identity, belonging, and meeting societal expectations (both overt and covert). Is there a true self amidst the roles we play? Can we escape the narratives thrust upon us by society, family, and even the expectations of the reader? Is the journey of self-discovery more about shedding than acquiring? Cusk’s strength lies in her ability to transform the every day - chats with neighbours, visits to the park - into profound meditation on life, art, and the ever-shifting nature of identity. 

Faye is somewhat detached from the stories she recounts, even if I believe they are filtered through the theme she wants to present. She listens intently, but rarely offers her own experiences or opinions. This creates a distance for the reader, as we are drawn into the intimacy of these conversations, yet we remain aware of the space Faye maintains between herself and the narratives she absorbs. However, through the stories, Faye sheds details of her past with a deliberate vagueness (a call with her son in the middle of a conversation, a hint toward an unfulfilling marriage and abandonment). Each story and the small glimpses of her life, while they happen, act as a mirror, reflecting a facet of Faye’s anxieties about motherhood, the challenges of forging a creative path, and the search for meaning in the face of personal upheaval. 

Cusk’s prose, the strength of her writing, is gorgeous: sharp, elegant, and possessing a dry wit that had me snorting at the most unexpected moments. One minute you’re contemplating the existential dread of changing a light bulb (yes, it’s difficult and I’ve experienced it), the next you are swept away by a poignant reflection on motherhood or the artifice of storytelling itself. One of the most compelling aspects of her prose is the use of dialogue. The conversations are raw and unfiltered and they feel like they happen in real time. They often leave more questions unanswered, allowing space for the reader to dive into introspection.  Faye acts like a sounding board, a silent observer absorbing the narratives of others, hence the reader becomes one too. 

Like Outline, Transit isn’t a book for those seeking comfort, closure, or a linear plotline that keeps them engaged. The title, “Transit”, evokes a state of perpetual in-betweenness, reflecting Faye’s emotional and physical journey. The “in-between” state may also suggest the fragmented nature of life, with the current self shattering and a new one emerging. Moving to London becomes, thus, a metaphor, a move to a place of anonymity and possibility, where the past can be shed and a new self allowed to form. Transit is wonderful if you are willing to embrace discomfort, offering a profound exploration of the human condition and challenging your assumptions, wrapped up in Cusk’s resonant writing.