The Rehearsal: A Novel (original 2008; edition 2010)

This is a really, really fantastic novel, beautifully written and keenly observed, and all the more astounding for being the author's debut.

In my opinion, what makes The Rehearsal so good is how it takes an all-too-familiar premise---a high school sex scandal between teacher and student---and presents it from an perspective that is entirely unorthodox. Absent are the explorations of the victim's psychological damage, or the revelations of the criminal's dark past. Rather, the sex scandal of The Rehearsal is presented as an object of envy among the other girls at the school, and as an occasion for their sexual awakening. Told through a series of short, temporally disjoint episodes, the novel unfolds in unexpected ways, avoiding the common high school stereotypes, while still presenting a narrative that feels real and true.

The Rehearsal is not the most ambitious novel, nor is it all that earth-shattering in its message. Yet it is meticulously crafted and refreshingly original---which, I guess, is enough for me. ( )

This was one of the most fascinating books I’ve read in a very long time. It is certainly not for everyone – the subject matter will put off some, while the innovative narrative structure may frustrate others expecting a traditionally linear story arc.

However, if you are sometimes more intrigued by the way a tale is told than the events described; if you oft find yourself lingering over a sentence of remarkable clarity and precision, wondering at the delicate interplay of consonance and connotation; if you are sufficiently self-aware of the classical boundaries between writer and reader, actor and audience, and take delight in the subtle ways in which such “fourth walls” may be breached, built upon, or incorporated into the interactive weaving between text and performance; then I cannot sufficiently endorse this exquisitely crafted experiment in wordplay, percipience and multidimensional storytelling.

For the record, I am not normally drawn to books featuring teenage girls, sexual awakening, or the halting and fumbling GLBT experimentation which serve as the plot drivers in this post-modern John Hughes saga of teen-teacher angst. Prosaic plot precedents aside, this thin, intricately woven volume has as much in common with Harlequin romance as Brittany Spears with Die Walküre.

Without wishing to spoil any of the many playful surprises which make The Rehearsal such a pleasure to unfold, one may liken the experience to an exercise with Plato’s Cave: as pages turn, one is gradually led to wonder which elements are representative of the watchers, the shadows, the wall on which the shadows are cast, the fire, the Things themselves, or those watching the watchers. You could consider The Rehearsal a recursive ladder proof using mise en abyme and existential exit conditions – you could, if you were a literary geek with a taste for the avant-garde, but then I don’t know who else would still be reading this far ☺

Scathingly witty social satire, nonlinear self-referential exposition, and hot lesbian sex – do you really need more? Five stars from this jaundiced reader. ( )

Right, so how do I go about this review without making the book seem more difficult than it actually is? Hmm. Maybe like this: This is a book with two narratives, where one is a staging of the other, and on top of that a sort of meta level, that implies that the whole thing, also what poses as reality in the book, is in fact….Nope. That’s not it.

A scandal hits New Zealand all girl high school, when it’s discovered that one of the students has a relationship with the popular, bohemian music teacher. This stirs up lots of controversy, and shifts positions among the girls, their parents and the teachers. The younger sister, the outcast, the painfully plain girl with a secret crush on the same teacher, are all forced to examine their roles in relation to the scandal. They are all acutely aware that the roles they are set to play are exactly that: roles. Several of the girls go to the same saxophone teacher, who with a cold eye follows the events.

In the same city is a renowned theatre school, where the books follows the freshmen class through their quest for finding out who they are as actors, while struggling to be painstakingly original and interesting. Their first year is to culminate with a performance created by the students themselves – and this class choses to do something based on a local scandal: a teacher at a nearby high school who had a relationship with one of the students… But it doesn’t end there. Catton adds an unusual meta level. Throughout the book, nods and hints imply that the whole thing is in fact fictive. But what we’re reading is not meta-fiction, but a performance. At least part of the time. In fact, by the end of it all, it’s itchingly unclear what’s really what.

I love the play with form here, and Catton pulls off a rather complicated pattern (if with a slight wobbling of the bar at times, perhaps). This is a book you read on several levels at once, where the strong form feels completely warranted and well executed. In looking at what makes her characters tick, Catton is spot on, and is at times even providing me with brand new insight – thoughts that make sense, but that I’ve never thought before. The structure does, however, get in the way of the overall arc of the book, a bit. Some storylines and characters are strangely lost along the way, one or two seem to be introduced too late, and the book lacks a…well, a core, I guess. As a theatre person myself, I can also feel the “demonic, cynical method acting teachers pushing innocent youngsters to their limits and beyond” trope is a bit tired – when was a theatre school ever portrayed differently? In the end though, it’s the freshness and the sharpness of observation that lingers. ( )

I was interested in reading The Rehearsal because it's set primarily at an all-girls' high school. As a graduate of an all-women's college, I think the social dynamic of a single-sex educational institution could make a stellar background for a story. And for The Rehearsal, it does provide an interesting foundation, but The Rehearsal didn't focus strictly on the relationship among young women. It was more artsy and cerebral.

The book revolves around a sex scandal between a student and her jazz teacher. The scandal rocks the small campus, disrupting the trust between parents and teachers; students and fellow students; and students and their instructors. Interestingly, the betrayal felt by the students was most startling. The student, Victoria, kept the affair from her friends, and when Victoria returns to school, her friends told her that to be forgiven, she must divulge the details about her affair. Is that a natural reaction? I am not sure.

Meanwhile, Catton throws in two other storylines - that of Stanley, a first-year student at a prestigious drama school, and the saxophone teacher, who is connected to many of the students affected by the sex scandal. (Side note: The conversations between the saxophone teacher and her students' parents were entertaining as heck). All three storylines combine at the end - albeit abruptly - to wrap this story up like a bow.

Here's my main complaint about The Rehearsal: the artful, intelligent aspects of this novel felt contrived - like when you're speaking to someone who talks about classical music just to give you the impression he's intelligent. The story was there; the characters were multi-dimensional and the writing style was provocative. The Rehearsal is Catton's first novel, and I suspect she'll get better and better with time.

In the meantime, I will continue to look for books set at all-women's schools and colleges, searching for an intelligent, realistic representation of this unique social situation. If have any suggestions, please let me know. ( )

This book continually amazes and surprises! I can't believe this is a first novel. There are 3 story areas: the effects of a sex scandal on a girl's school (the reader is never sure about who seduced whom . . . the music student or her teacher); the effects of a scary, Miss Brodie-like music teacher on the female students to whom she gives private saxaphone lessons; and the experiences of an 18-year-old boy named Stanley as he first auditions for and then is accepted into a prestigious drama school; and then his experiences at the school, moving ultimately into the preparations for the first-year students' end-of-year project: a dramatized version of the effects of the local school's teacher-pupil sex scandal.

The Rehearsal is a challenging but rewarding read. There are continual time shifts, and point of view shifts but, more incredibly, many occasions when you will ask your self: "Is this actually happening, is a character imagining this, or is this a performance on a stage?" The book makes you think about the nature of: identity, memory, imagination, the teacher-pupil relationship; theatre, and reality. It also looks at adolescence in refreshingly non-sentimental manner.

The language is also incredible: vivid, daring, fresh and up-to-date. At the same time, the language is challenging: as what characters say in any given 'speech' will leave you wondering: Is she actually saying this, is she imagining what she would like to say but can't, or is she performing on a stage? Sometimes all three answers are possible over the course of a 'speech.'

As the book proceeds the different strains of the plot hurtle together in an exciting if sometimes confusing way. This is the type of book you like to re-read to make sure you 'get it,' but even then you're not totally sure. If I had any criticism, it is that the ending felt abrupt and unsatisfying. Then again, maybe I just didn't get it. Despite this, so many parts of the book are so fresh and honest, they can be read aloud, enjoyed, and admired as stand-alone pieces. Highly recommended! ( )