A review by rsurban
The House of Rumour by Jake Arnott

3.0

The House of Rumour is one of those novels that is easier to admire than to love. It begins thrillingly enough, with the giddy investigation of disparate characters whose narratives obliquely glance off each other, affecting each other's life stories like madly ricocheting atoms intent on their Brownian motion. Attentive readers uncover a wealth of real-life individuals among the large cast of crazy dreamers, schemers and conspiracy nuts, including, but certainly not limited to, Rudolph Hess, Robert Heinlein, L Ron Hubbard, David Bowie, Spandau Ballet, Jorge Luis Borges, Jim Jones, Ian Fleming, Aleister Crowley, Virginia Wolff and Katherine Burdekin. Each successive chapter (the titles of which come from the Tarot) is a piece in the jigsaw puzzle that eventually takes the shape of "20th Century America and the Search for True Meaning in the Modern Age"...a heady and complex narrative, that, sadly, seems to have a hole in the middle of the finished image. Just what that missing center is can be difficult to parse, but flesh-and-blood, relatable characters are a bit in short supply, and a satisfying conclusion is missing, replaced with a rather wheezy, ruminative winding down. There's no doubt that Arnott is a writer of rather brilliant intellectual vitality, succeeding in keeping the narrative and thematic balls in the air throughout, but as impressive as the technical achievement is, it is at an emotional remove that leaves the reader wishing for less intricacy and more feeling. Of course, this may have been Arnott's design all along...a narrative that mirrors in structure the seeking of knowledge and yearning for connection that eludes his characters: we, like they, are left at novel's end, wondering what it all means and wishing for just a little more human warmth.