The Grand Complication

The basic plot seems simple enough: a rich older gentleman hires a research librarian to help him track down an object that once resided in a compartmentalized case (in fact, the case is the eponymous Case of Curiosities from Kurzweil’s first novel). The search, its results, and its aftermath form the framework of the book. But hidden within this seemingly bland framework is a story as wonderfully complex as an Escher print: characters are not who they seem to be; motivations are called into question; and vital bits of information dance just out of our reach.

Kurzweil is a powerfully evocative writer. His scenes in the research library make you feel like you can reach out and touch the books (and oh! such books: Secret Compartments in show more Eighteenth-Century Furniture, The Universal Penman, Hints on Husband Catching, or A Manual for Marriageable Misses—and that’s just from the first 30 pages). Jesson’s home is described in all of its opulent splendor, with special attention given to yards of books and the shelving thereof (are you sensing a pattern?). Thankfully, even non-book-oriented places are described well.
When an author is this attentive to setting, character can sometimes be lost. But Kurzweil sidesteps this trap neatly, giving us a cast of exuberantly eccentric characters who nonetheless manage to ring true. Everyone from the petty research library bureaucrats to the narrator’s tempestuous girlfriend is limned with just enough detail to make their various eccentricities believable.

The Grand Complication is a Chinese treasure-box of a novel—just when you’re certain you know what’s going on, you find another hidden compartment with new information in it. The writing is beautiful, the plot is compelling, and the characters are a joy to spend time with. Stop listening to me natter on about it and pick it up for yourself. I think you’ll enjoy the read. show less

If you love inventory, secret penmanship, erotic pop-ups, Marie Antoinette memorabilia and shrimps . . . then this is the book for you.

Alllen Kurzweil has written an intriguing page-turner of a tome. Our hero, Alexander Short, reminds me of Indiana Jones if he was the kind of guy who hunted for relics by using library slips and zip tubes (these tubes move books from the library stacks to the front desk). He is lured into a search for The Grand Complication-by a roguishly eccentric collector, Henry James Jesson III.

Short, being a reference librarian with a compulsive disorder to make lists of everything in a journal knotted to his clothes, is the perfect pawn to Jesson's puppetmaster. He resolutely pursues the Grand Complication, from show more its disappearance in a cabinet of curiosities to a theft in Jerusalem . . . jeopardizing his job and his marriage.

The third note-worthy protagonist in this book is the library itself and its bizarre characters and routines: George Speaight, the Librarian of Sexual Congress (actually the curator of a collection initially funded by a pornographer), Emil Dinthofer who keeps threatening to send Short to a bookmobile in Amish country; Finster Dapples, the Genealogy specialist who teaches us a lot about how to create a coat of arms, Irving Grote, the head of Conservation who goes head-to-head against Mr. Paradis, the autodidactic janitor in a library competition that tests their knowledge of the Dewey Decimal system . . . and there's even the Sabretooths, a football team who become the recipients of a most unusual book tour.

There's an enthralling energy to this novel that you don't expect when you consider that most of the action happens among books and paper products. Kurzweil also has a magical grasp of the macguffin and he neatly pulls off the difficult trick of entertaining as he educates us in the intricacies of full body tattoos, timepieces, heraldic self-invention, and the use of a ham sandwich as a criminal diversion. show less

Alexander Short, narrator and protagonist of Allen Kurzweil's novel The Grand Complication, is a reference librarian at a Manhattan library, very much like (wink, wink) the New York Public. Through his job, Alexander meets and is, in effect, seduced by the impressively named and impressively wealthy Henry James Jesson III, who wants the young librarian to help him "with a case." The "case" turns out to be an actual box – an incomplete cabinet of curiosities put together by a mysterious 18th-century inventor. Alexander resists the offer at first, but eventually gives in, and the rest of the novel involves his search for the cabinet's one missing object – a magnificent timepiece supposedly made for Marie Antoinette.

The Grand show more Complication is a mystery tale and, as in any good mystery tale, along the way we learn that many things are not exactly what they seem. Mr. Jesson's story, the legendary timepiece, and Mr. Jesson himself turn out to be much more complicated than at first we might have suspected – well, at least more complicated than Alexander suspected. So we end up unraveling more than just the secret of the queen's magnificent pocket watch.

This book has drawn mixed reviews, and I have to admit Kurzweil doesn't produce the most sparkling prose. But I enjoyed it very much – it's a fast-paced read, with a lot of humor and many surprises sprinkled throughout. There's also a nice love story included – the courtship and rocky marriage of Alexander and his French wife, Nic. Then there's all the library arcana – my favorite part of the book – and Alexander's fascination with "objects of enclosure" and with the Dewey system of classification.

Ultimately, I suppose I was attracted to Alexander because he's such a meticulous list-maker. At one point, he admits to Nic that his ambition is "to compose lists," prompting her to ask if he wants to set them to music. He collects library call slips – his own and those of other library patrons. He even goes so far as to wear a journal (hand made by Nic) fastened to his clothing, for making lists and notes – in imitation of the "girdle books" employed by medieval monks. Now that's a man after my own heart.

A slightly expanded version of this review is posted on my blog:
http://jlshall.blogspot.com/2008/02/grand-complication.html show less

Quite intriguing. Slow in parts but was very interesting in the way the story folded out. I was amazed at how Kurzweil managed to make computer searches not as dull as they are in real life. It reminds me of the Da Vinci code in quite a few ways - a refined gentleman as mentor and later betrayer, a French love interest, a search for a long missing artifact. On the whole enjoyable, but not likely memorable. The language used was beautifully archaic though.

Another one bites the dust, I think this is 3 in a row now. At least I'm clearing off some of my bookshelves. I told my wife that I feel like we're watching/reading the Gong Show lately. After about 50 pages the cane starts to come out, the book desperately tries to get better, but ultimately fails. This one got to about 85 pages.

It was witty and I can see how library geeks could be more interested in this, but it didn't really seem to be going anywhere. Seeing as I read Kurzweil's other book (and loved it) a LONG time ago, I didn't even get any cool links between the two books (and it was starting to become obvious that there were some).

A librarian gets mixed up with an elderly eccentric in his obsessive search for a stolen watch.

This is a mystery written for people who like to read about people doing research, or who enjoy books filled with literary allusions and jokes. I was mildly enjoying it, but it pretty much falls apart in the third act. If you like books about books, or if you worship libraries and librarians, you may like this book. But I imagine its appeal is fairly narrow.

Kurzweil's best so far. A fascinatingly complex but readable tale, centered around a neurotic reference librarian and his adventures with a mysterious patron. Highly recommended.