A review by ergative
Creation Lake by Rachel Kushner

3.5

There was a lot to like about this -- in particular the premise (independent spy-for-hire goes undercover to entrap a super-kooky enviro-commune group into murdering a politician). I really enjoyed the narrator's scorn for everyone she interacts with. But the group's fuondational big-daddy Bruno, whose emails the narrator hacks and reads, gets a sort of respect in the narrative that seems undermined by his profound kookiness. Is it a wisdom-despite kind of thing? Is the idea that, underneath all his weird ideas, Bruno has a kernel of understanding that is valuable? Or does Kushner actually want us to believe that Bruno was on to something deep when he insists that Neanderthals smoked tobacco and Polynesians navigated the ocean by attending to the sway of their testicles? Are the narrator's evident faults in perception and morality the very thing that makes her vulnerable to Bruno's kooky-ass influence? I can't tell. It all feels very literary, and the ambiguity makes me uncomfortable. I really do worry that Kushner might believe in testicle-compasses.