A review by whosemuse
The Latecomer by Jean Hanff Korelitz

5.0

Holy shit. I can't remember the last time I read something that penetrated my soul so thoroughly. First of all, it took me a while to figure out who the narrator is, because for the first half (or so) of the book, it refers to "our mother" or "our brother," but it never refers to "I" or "me." Sally, Harrison, and Lewyn are the children of Salo and Johanna Oppenheimer, triplets who were conceived "in a petri dish," as it is described, and most of the story is about them. There is a good amount of backstory about Salo and Johanna, and the boring and tragic pieces that influenced and defined their early lives. The big middle chunk is about the triplets, who never bonded, with each other or with their parents, and so all five members of this family end up living very separate lives. The narrator is, in fact, their sibling, the titular latecomer, who was also conceived in the dish, but left on ice for over a decade until Johanna decided she needed another child. The siblings all describe Phoebe as their same age, but born later, which seems weird, but is actually very apt. The thing that really got me about this story is the humanity that is expressed in every one of these characters. The distant father, scarred by his seminal tragedy, the desperate mother, frantically and blindly keeping her family "together," the siblings, each working out their own path, both driven and bewildered by their estrangement from the other members of their family. And Phoebe, the latecomer, who eventually grows into her narrative voice, the catalyst for everything that needs to be spoken to, addressed, hashed out, laid to rest, so that the family (the unit, and also the individual members) can attain some peace. Which is not to say that peace or resolution is in any way inevitable -- the family members each achieve their own comfort and direction, while interacting with each other only as little as they can. But, Phoebe's curiosity, and her siblings' sense that she deserves to know about their shared history (and also the small matter of outside influences that begin squeezing between the cracks), allow all to be known and understood. The language of this book, the tone and the words, is so matter-of-fact, and yet so expressive, I actually lay in bed at night, after turning off my light, thinking and wondering about the characters as if they were people I really knew. And I feel sad to say goodbye to them, just as they seem to be getting their lives together.