It did feel cruel, and not a little unfair, to give up all hope of good prose as early as page four, but that’s where it happened. It was right there in capital letters: “IT’S GRISHAM DAY, PEOPLE.” As in John Grisham, whose looming visit to Aunt Orsa’s — the fine-dining restaurant in a Midwestern university town in which the novel is set — gives the book the tension that propels it along. Grisham’s books are a great holiday read, but the man is not known as a stylist. If he is one of Rebecca Kauffman’s literary heroes — and, given she’s framed a book around him, it feels fair to conclude he must be — then, you think, anyone who reads seeking beauty in words is in trouble.
Not every book must be a dazzling display of linguistic acrobatics
So it proves: shopworn is the word. But not every book must be a dazzling display of linguistic acrobatics. Though the novel follows the calamities that present themselves ahead of Grisham’s visit — which include clapped-out dishwashers, stolen steaks and shady waiters — what makes it tick are the character studies.
Kauffman’s conceit is that, rather than run a contents page of chapters, these are presented as “the menu”, with each character a course. There are 16 courses on this particular tasting menu and, like the very best restaurants, each dish tells a tale of its own. Thus, the book is a set of short stories sitting beside each other rather than a narrative that runs on and on.
Kauffman is at her best when touching on the difficulties of daily life
It is a recipe that fulfils. Although the book is mostly light work and mirthful throughout (if not genuinely funny), Kauffman is at her best when touching on the difficulties of daily life. The hierarchies of a restaurant are aptly captured and moments arise that are genuinely affecting. At Table 14, two worn-out parents are dining with a gift card from their alcoholic son, now in rehab. Except the gift card isn’t legitimate and the dad has already brought cash just in case, deep down knowing their little Jimmy hasn’t changed.
It might, in places, be shoddily put together, but The Reservation is a reminder that life, a lot of it, happens out there in restaurants, people exposing their secrets in the broad light of day. Restaurants are for pleasure, but for pain, too.
The Reservation by Rebecca Kauffman is out now (Counterpoint, £19.91)
