The Delicate Dance of Narrative: A Review of Audition by Katie Kitamura
When I first picked up Audition by Katie Kitamura, I was drawn by its intriguing premise: a story that weaves together the complexities of performance and reality. As someone who revels in narratives that blur the lines between fiction and truth, this novel promised to be a captivating exploration of identity and connection. And oh, did it deliver!
At its core, Audition is a masterclass in dual narratives, with each layer of the story peeling back to reveal something profound about human relationships. The book centers around a protagonist navigating her connection to a young man, Xavier, who is as enigmatic as he is compelling. Their interactions are fraught with unspoken tension, and the electric charge between them casts a spell that had me pondering the essence of intimacy in relationships. Kitamura writes, "I knew the details of the fantasy he had created… that disclosure was a form of intimacy.” This line perfectly encapsulates the delicate dance of shared secrets, revealing how our perceptions are often shaped by the illusions we construct.
One of the most striking aspects of Kitamura’s writing is her ability to create a haunting atmosphere. The essence of performance pervades each chapter, as if the characters are not merely living their lives, but enacting roles within an elaborate play. As Xavier becomes absorbed in the role of the assistant, his transformation resonates with anyone who has felt the pressure to wear a mask, to adapt and perform to fit into the expectations of others. The poignant scene where the narrator views her familiar home as if it were a stage set—"the walls… seemed hollow, thin and rickety"—perfectly illustrates how our environments can feel both comforting and unsettling, emphasizing that our homes can sometimes be just as performative as the people we encounter.
The structure of Audition is daring, particularly in its second half, where a crucial scene is intentionally omitted. This choice leaves a gaping hole that alters the story’s trajectory, inviting readers to grapple with their own interpretations of events. The disorientation I experienced while reading mirrored the emotional upheaval of the characters—especially when faced with the final coda that questions the very fabric of the narrative. Kitamura challenges us to confront the idea of family as a "shared delusion," inviting both contemplation and discomfort.
Though at times, the narrative’s unconventional logic may perplex, it ultimately enriches the reading experience. As I reflected on these themes, I felt a deep connection to the characters, even in their most complex moments of transformation. Kitamura’s prose, reminiscent of Rachel Cusk’s sharp observations, is both haunting and thought-provoking—a true testament to her artistry.
For those who relish stories that delve into the intricacies of human emotion and perception, Audition will be a delight. Whether you are a fan of literary fiction or someone seeking a profound exploration of identity, this novel beckons with its unsettling charm. It left me pondering long after I closed the last page, a reminder of the beauty and fragility of our shared narratives. Do yourself a favor and step onto the stage of this remarkable story—you won’t be able to look away.
Thanks to the publisher via Netgalley for the ARC!