'Beatrice and Virgil' by Yann Martel - Book Review

Sophomore Slump? Well, not really. It technically can’t be. Yann Martel did write a novel before Life of Pi, but his books from here on out will always be compared to Pi until he writes something that matches the imagination, wit and style of that modern classic. Beatrice and Virgil, Martel’s third novel, sadly falls short of Pi’s magic. It packs a punch at the end, but the storytelling this time is much more plodding and burdensome, distracting from the powerful metaphors at work.

I loved Life of Pi. Still do. I’ll probably read it again. In some way, I think I would like to read Beatrice and Virgil again. But not for enjoyment. I’m pretty sure I missed something. But I know I don’t miss the first half of the book.

Martel begins this story with Henry, an author who is attempting to put together an artistic approach to retelling the Holocaust in a combination of prose and essay. He gives it to his editor and publisher only to be doused in criticism. Henry and his wife then move to Europe, get a dog and have a son, and the author attempts to find another passion. All of this is blandly told with far too much moping and explanation for every action. Let’s just say Beatrice and Virgil don’t show up for a while and Henry is not necessarily someone you feel compelled to listen to for very long.

Once Henry the author meets Henry the taxidermist, Martel begins pulling together everything Henry the author was attempting to do with his failed approach to the Holocaust. There’s an impending sense of something rich and deep beginning to boil to the surface. Martel is able to let it loose in the end in some beautiful passages in the last 50 pages, but it was a chore to get there. Some will rationalize this was necessary for the impact. Some will teach with this book in high school and college classes. Some will not like it at all.

Beatrice and Virgil is one good creative idea, but only half of a good book. Don’t be fooled by its cover. The animals don’t play a large enough part, though what they metaphorically represent has a staying power once you finish the novel. That is, if you can get past the first half.