Waiting on a Friend
Waiting on a Friend is Natalie Adler’s first novel but, already, I’d argue she can do what greats like Ann Patchett, Patrick Ryan and Celeste Ng do. Their novels don’t fit in any genre but they are both substantive and a breeze to read, have something to say but also lots of humor and feature compelling characters but are driven by those characters actually doing things (i.e., a plot). They’re novels that you — well, I — whip through faster than you might like but that leave plenty to think about afterward. Adler is more profane than those other writers and has a more anarchic sense of humor, but I tore through Waiting and then regretted that she doesn’t have more books I can read. So far ... Passionate and crabby, Renata is a strong cup of coffee and an entertaining narrator ... Not perfect ... But it’s a terrific read and an exciting promise of more to come.
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Moving ... I slowed my pace finishing Waiting on a Friend, because I didn’t want the novel to end. I wanted to see these relationships grow. I wanted to know who would survive the ’80s. Or maybe I just wanted to spend more time in a world where I could see ghosts myself, watch them letting loose on the dancefloor and walking together in the Halloween parade, a celebration of the living and the dead.
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Vividly and wittily capturing the sights and sounds (and other sensations) of such a specific time and place, Waiting For A Friend uses this backdrop to examine grief and loss, but also friendship, compassion and community. It’s a novel written with humour, humanity and heart, while never avoiding the reality of how individuals and communities were devastated by this most terrible disease. It’s as much a righteous celebration as it is a lament, and to carry off such a balancing act in this manner shows Natalie Adler to be a writer of some finesse.
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