title: Trust by: Diaz, Hernan published: 2022-08-04 read: 2023-08 preview

I read this book rather quickly, but enjoyed it to the end. The underlying story is quite simple: about a very successful stock broker, Andrew Bevel, who inherited a small fortune from his ancestors, and made that into a huge fortune by always taking the right choices. The book is also about his wife, Mildred Bevel, who is matched to Bevel by Mildred’s mother, quickly evolves into philanthropic work, and dies quite young because of…

Because of what, really? And is she just doing philanthropy? Or is the story more complex?

That’s the nice part of Diaz’ book. One gets three versions of the same story. Not like Auster’s 4 3 2 1, but three versions written by three different people, thus leading to three different versions of the truth.

The first version, in the first part of the book, is written by a novelist, Harold Vanner. He tells a story about Benjamin Rask, and his wife Helen. Helen dies in Switzerland, after being brought to a sanatorium there by her husband, all in good care, but she went crazy after a relatively short life with her husband in New York.

The second version, in the second part of the book, we read a version by Andrew Bevel himself. Which is not quite true, we learn in part 3: it was started by him, for which he hired a shadow writer, an aspiring novelist, Ida Partenza. Who also writes part 3 of the book, her life in working for Bevel, to set the history straight after Vanner’s “slanderous” book.

Sadly, Bevel dies before Partenza can finish her, their, book. So part two has passages such as that would become the first symptom of her illness, life was Brief paragraph Mildred, domestic delights. Home a solace during these happily frantic times.

Bevel miscalculated the dreams of an aspiring novelist. Ida is not happy portraying ~Helen~ Mildred as a passive, uninspiring, weak woman, but is looking for the truth. And wants to use the chance to start as a novelist.

I was comforted by the idea of order in their novels. It all started with crime and chaos. Even sense and meaning themselves were challenged—the characters, their actions and their motives seemed incomprehensible. But after a brief reign of lawlessness and confusion, order and harmony were always restored. Everything became clear, everything was explained and everything was well with the world. This gave me enormous peace. And, perhaps more importantly, these women showed me I did not have to conform to the stereotypical notions of the feminine world. Their stories were not just about romance and domestic bliss. There was violence in their books—a violence they controlled. These writers showed me, through their example, that I could write something dangerous. They showed me that there was no reward in being reliable or obedient: the reader’s expectations and demands were there to be intentionally confounded and subverted. They were the writers who first made me want to become a writer.

Things get complex, Ida is blackmailed:

In these articles on Morris Ledyard, the Goulds, Albert H. Wiggin, the Rockefellers, Solomon R. Guggenheim, the Rothschilds and James Speyer I found details of business transactions, descriptions of residencies, travel itineraries, reports on lavish parties and a wide array of habits, idiosyncrasies and pastimes that I gave the Bevels. I also quoted from the advertisements that made up the bulk of this and other similar magazines promoting luxury goods I had never heard of.

In the meantime, as women’s often have to balance life and work, she feels responsible for her father, who lives in his own world:

“Yes. If I take this knife, it will be bad luck. We will fight. It will cut the ties between us.” I had always believed his mild superstitions were mere relics from his hometown, like the legends, anecdotes and recipes he had brought from there. But he seemed oddly serious about this. I shrugged and motioned to pick up the box. “Wait,” he said. “There is a solution. Money.” I looked at him. “Money,” he repeated. “I buy the knife from you. That’s how it’s solved. Then it’s not a gift.” He rummaged through his pockets and proffered me a penny. “Here. Will you sell me that beautiful knife for a penny?”

The final part of the book then gives a final truth, about the life and success of Andrew, and of Mildred. It is in the form of a diary written by the latter, and found by Ida.

Already tired of milk + meat diet.
AM New, dispassionately determined pain. My insides are trying to get out, fleeing from it. Won’t tell Nurse. Don’t want morph.
EVE Now able to read. Went through box of new books. Started “Voyage in the Dark.” Welsh (?) author seems to have grown up in the West Indies. Reads like a memoire of sorts.

and

So nicely put. This defines the classical form. Music that one almost doesn’t need to listen to, because its development is all implied by the form. Just as Rhys says in her passage, “you always know what’s going to come next.” This music creates an unavoidable future for itself. It has no free will. There’s only fulfilment. It’s fatal music. Just like the chime I hear every day. D F# E A plants + grows the seed of A E F# D in the mind before the ear can hear it.

and

PM
A back from Z this AM, looking tired. Organized a surprise picnic for me. Set up a tent by the forest. Even tho picnic was overstaffed + overfurnished, he was uncomfortable. Kept looking at the sun filtering through the twiggery as if affronted by it. Smacking non-existent bugs on his face. But kindly looked after me. Even attempted humour. After reviewing the minutiae of my treatment and the diplomatic intrigues of the nurses’ station, he tiptoed around his concerns about Zürich deals. He has a way of presenting his questions as categorical statements. I made him see it was unwise to hold K, G, T positions. He then came to the conclusion he should telephone in the AM and change course. He fell asleep in the tent after lunch. I slipped away for a short stroll. Seldom alone these days.

So, who’s crazy, who is right, who is pretending? The fascinating thing in this book is that, basically, you don’t know. You are being thrown into a story – Vanner’s version – in the first part of the book, and that’s the truth. Then follows a second version, now with other characters (since Vanner used pseudonyms for the Bevels) but a different story, and with many unfinished sentences, raw sections, etc. Only in part 3 things become clear. And in the last part, Mildred Bevel set the record straight

Perhaps also why Bevel not only survived the infamous crash of 1929, but also earned from it.

This being taken on a bit of a rollercoaster is a mental joy. Each part has quite different writing styles. The first, Vanner, part uses vocabulary that is sometimes slightly challenging, such as Even if gossip never reached him, Rask—with his fastidiously unremarkable appearance, his abstemious habits, and his monastic hotel life—knew he must be regarded as somewhat of a “character.”

All in all, a recommended read.