Ways to Disappear has a lot going for it from my perspective: it’s got a good story, it’s characters are complex, it doesn’t overstay it’s welcome and it’s pretty weird. Though I wouldn’t call it a favourite novel, it almost feels like someone wrote it specifically for me, it ticks so many boxes. Idra Novey understands what a good novel needs, and she demonstrates this knowledge incredibly well with Ways to Disappear.
The story kicks off when Beatriz Yagoda, a celebrated Brazilian author, goes missing after climbing up into a tree. When her American translator, and sort-of-friend, finds out, she travels to Brazil to help locate Beatriz with the help of her son and daughter. The three of them soon discover the reason for the author’s disappearance: a gigantic gambling debt. In her absence, Beatriz’s creditors push down on those hunting her, making finding her all the more paramount.
One of the aspects of Ways to Disappear that impressed me most – as odd as it may sound – is the chapter lengths. Although there are many long and bloated novels out there that I adore, this one demonstrated to me the importance of keeping things brief. Few chapters go on longer than two pages, which makes it an incredibly addictive read, helping feed that ‘one more chapter’ feeling. Why not read one more chapter when it’ll only take you a couple of minutes? In many of my old novel attempts, I focused really hard on making sure the chapters reached a certain number of words. Ways to Disappear showed me that short chapters can be just as powerful as long ones, and, in most cases, more powerful.
In other aspects of the novel, brevity is also key. Idra Novey creates a fully developed story without padding it out, and pieces together believable characters through giving us a few key details about each of them. On top of this, there’s also a sense of weirdness – that almost makes me think of Kurt Vonnegut – that stops the book from seeming too by the numbers. For aspiring writers, Ways to Disappear is a solid modern novel to study.
However, despite my admiration for this novel, I don’t think I can describe it as being anything more than ‘great’. It does its job well, it entertained me while I read it, but it’s not really good enough to be called a classic or anything; I don’t know how well I’ll remember it in a couple of years. But don’t let that detract from the fact that this is a good book. It tells an interesting story in an interesting way, and that something that too many novels simply fail to do.