Usually, a fictional character that inspires no empathy or compassion in the reader is a negative thing. It points to a lack of dimension, depth and creativity on the author’s part. But in “The Face Thief,” Eli Gottlieb has created a character that is so devoid of humanity, she makes those around her leap off the page with authenticity and inspires fear of the notion that someone so coldhearted could exist.
The book rotates chapters between telling the stories of three tangential personalities: Margot, the victim of a crime in recovery and rehab; Lawrence, an expert in reading faces who lectures on the topic and whose persona is slippery at best and John, a California transplant who makes a very bad monetary investment.
As “The Face Thief” progresses, one can see how these individuals are going to be related — but at first that relationship isn’t completely apparent. Slowly, suspects in Margot’s attempted demise begin to emerge as we begin to see her calculating behavior, how she purposefully became entangled in both John and Lawrence’s lives and how she left them both exiled in the wake of her cold use of sexuality.
Though we know Margot has been victimized by someone she has wronged, we don’t know if it is Lawrence, John or someone else until we’re knee-deep in the pages. And as the tale unfolds, opening wide for the reader to see all, the only person who remains a true, almost pious victim is John.
What makes “The Face Thief” more compelling, aside from the strong moral dilemmas posed to the reader, is the poetic imagery Gottlieb employs.
“Small brown spots high on her temples had recently appeared, as if Death, daubing with a brush, was getting in its first licks.”
He manages to make age spots sound entrancing, and he repeatedly accomplishes the feat with otherwise mundane notions. This imagery, or at times lack thereof, is used to make the reader understand what Margot is. Or rather, what she is not. Her lack of character feels intentional and is impactful in its simplicity.
In “The Face Thief,” Gottlieb uses sexuality as a pawn in the chess match of his characters’ lives and does so brilliantly. His writing begs the question: Do you want to feel sorry for this girl who has been so sorely attacked, knowing about the lives she has left in ruins?
And the question isn’t truly answered until the very last page.
Rating: W W W W W
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