Ghost Lights: A Novel

I wrote a longer review, and then the internet ate it. So, the short version is: same great narrative voice as in How the Dead Dream. The narrator reminds me of Trollope's, with its compassionate, cold, mildly amused satire.

Unfortunately, GL also has the same, silly white man goes to Belize and finds the truth that, like, we're all in this together thing. That's a worrying trend. Hal in GL is a liberal communitarian, whereas T. in HDD was a libertarian, so that adds some variety, and gives Millet a good excuse to i) rip into libertarian stupidity and ii) rip into communitarian self-righteousness.

I'm curious to know how this ends up: I read that the final volume is about Hal's wife (thus, not a man) who stays in America. I'm crossing show more my fingers that she doesn't win that deep, deep insight quite so easily as T. and Hal won it, indeed, that the changed perspective will point out the silliness of their revelations. Also, I hope the narrative voice remains the same. show less

This only the second novel from Lydia Millet that I've read (the previous one being How the Dead Dream, the prequel to this one). She is, quite simply, rocketing up my list of all-time favorite authors! Just like How the Dead Dream, I read Ghost Lights in one sitting. I couldn't put it down.

It helps that her writing flows so easily. In fact, it's rather lulling - you tend to forget how powerful her writing is when you're immersed in it, how effortlessly it finds its way into the deep, private, meaningful parts of you. It's only when you set the book down that you become conscious of how you've been affected.

What I enjoyed the most was the way these two books play off of one another. They're similar in length and overall narrative show more structure. In both, she introduces the main character in a very off-putting way - I didn't like either protagonist much when I first met them. But both of them end up being good people; somehow, without ever knowing when it happens, you realize that you genuinely like and respect both of them. I love the way she develops characters that way! It reminds me that all people are, at heart, just folk and we can all find ways to relate to one another, if we only take the time to learn what really goes on inside each of us.

Both books end with a powerful apotheosis. The experience of each protagonist at the end of each book is very different, but the degree of revelation and transformation is the same.

The primary difference between them is that Ghost Lights is more overtly sardonic. It's a funnier book, in my opinion. Which is both good and bad - good because I like to laugh, but bad in that I ultimately found it somewhat less powerful than How the Dead Dream.

That might also have something to do with the fact that Ghost Lights is a more specific book. Whereas How the Dead Dream contains very few place names (for example, it doesn't ever name the place where T. builds his island resort, or the river he travels) all of these places are named in Ghost Lights and given identifiable geographic references. Relevant political events from that area during the time when the book is set are mentioned. This specificity of place lends this novel a more worldly air and makes it less metaphysical than its predecessor. Given the journey each protagonist must take, the lessons each must to learn, this difference is purposeful and apt.

But I tend to prefer the metaphysical over the worldly, so it stands to reason that I preferred How the Dead Dream. But it may be that Ghost Lights was more important for me to read. show less

This book is not a fun read, and it's not about ghosts. But it is a very good read and I recommend it to anyone who isn't afraid of doing a little thinking along with the protagonist, Hal.

Hal, a government drudge with the IRS, is very much in his head throughout this novel, and he makes some interesting observations about life that are worth sharing and contemplating. Since his daughter's accident, which left her a paraplegic, he has been nurturing internal wounds and has withdrawn into himself, leaving his wife to fend for herself. In a moment of crisis he makes a drastic decision to go on a manhunt down in Belize. His experiences on this trip lead to a brilliant awakening.

The more I think about this book the more I think it's supposed to be a pass-through point for the Extinction series the way that Hal feels like a pass-through for his family. His wife is cheating on him; his daughter is working for a phone sex service and he feels both that he doesn't know them and that he knows them exactly. It's like he can't deal with the fact that they are exactly the people he's always known they were. I'm not explaining this well. The book is about Hal's midlife crisis; after these revelations he decides to head to belize to find his wife's missing boss, a man also in search of himself. What happens from there is a blend of fantasy and reality, intersecting with other lives in ways he can't anticipate. I think show more Hal just has nowhere to go. Anyway I enjoyed the book but not as much as the other two in the series. show less

A brilliant, quirky, deeply funny, sad and wise book about the human condition. I find it rare that a woman can sketch a convincing plausible male character. Ms Millet has done so with Hal; more than plausible in fact, a character who fully captures the strangeness of life. I ache with sadness upon reading this book and am filled with joy for having discovered Lydia Millet. That is all I can say.

3.5 is what I'd like to rate this. I found it fascinating and funny, though it occasionally hit a little too close to home. I thoroughly disliked the ending though and felt like it was a letdown.

A nice enough read, with here and there some lovely prose, but the arc of the main character from sort of an eiron to a man in midlife crisis to where lands in the end didn't really work for me.