Dan Chaon's Await Your Reply

In case you’re wondering, the author's last name is “pronounced like shawn—not like chaos, though that would be more appropriate, perhaps” (or so Dan Chaon’s Twitter bio explains). If I were to supply Chaon with a bio it may be something more like “I write books that are so good, you will want to read all of what I have written.” In Await Your Reply, Chaon expertly combines complex, somewhat despicable characters, an ever increasingly insidious plot, and themes of identity—the plot revolves around identity thievery and identity repurposing by those thieves. As for the title, there are too many layers of replies, responses, and awaited responses to enumerate—all of which, though, contribute to how identity is constructed or deconstructed, especially in the digital world.

When I began this book, I had two reactions: I pegged the book as a light read, and I was wary of a book that had a rotating narrative structure given that my last read, Brady Udall’s The Lonely Polygamist, also had multiple narratives. To compare the two narrative structures, however, is a disservice to both books, which are both amazing in completely different ways, and I soon realized that there was nothing light about reading Chaon’s book: it is quite dark in topic, and has absolutely perfect literary moments. Without giving too much away, the book begins with a severed hand, a Lolita-esque scene with a teenage girl driving across country with an older man, and a twin obsessed with finding his likely psychotic brother. The biggest payoff is how these plots tie together: not all once, but along the way you see clues, and connections. There were surprises along the way, and I was tricked by an ending I never saw coming—and happily tricked because it was done so neatly without leaving a trail of plot holes in its wake.

There were a great many things to like about this book. The author has an excellent flashback technique, a propensity for suspense, and a sophisticated approach to questions about identity. How do we create ourselves, and how do we re-create ourselves? What is the mark that individuals leave on the world? Are we more then just a digital footprint, and is existence linked to more than birth and death certificates? Can we ever even be the same person our whole lives, even without consciously reinventing ourselves? To what extent do others contribute or affect our identities, and, how easy is it for someone to take on your identity or take away your identity?  Chaon’s answer to this final question is abundantly clear: easily. So easily, that we should not take permanence for granted.

Chaon is also the author of, among other works, You Remind Me of Me and most recently Stay Awake. I hope to read both of these, and tout de suite.

Chaon, Dan. Await Your Reply. New York: Ballantine Books, 2010.