The book is narrated by a not-very-successful author who coincidentally meets Jeff, an old acquaintance from college while waiting for a delayed flight. Jeff tells the narrator the story of how he once saved a man from drowning and how he subsequently tried to find out about the man he had saved. This leads him into both the man’s art-dealing business and then his personal life, making him think about the consequences of having saved a life when that life may not be a very commendable one.
It’s a very well written and involving tale which is also lent a certain Hitchcockian creepiness by the chance encounter and the other-worldly airport lounge setting. There is some interesting discussion of Jeff’s internal response to his altruistic act and whether he needs or deserves reward or recognition, plus a well-drawn picture of the art world and its wealthy and often amoral milieu, including some neatly-turned descriptions. For example, at the opening of a show “...a few men and women in their forties or early fifties, looking as though they had through wealth escaped into a world without consequences. Funky eyeglasses, a striped jacket, and one woman’s cape made it clear to anyone who saw them that they were nonconformists, people of taste, art-world cognoscenti.”
The quality of the writing and storytelling, plus the book’s commendable brevity made this a rather gripping read for me, but in the end I wasn’t sure whether it had said anything really new. Certainly the claim by one distinguished reviewer that it “interrogates the very nature of identity, destiny and storytelling” seems to me very overblown, rather akin to some of the pretentious vacuity purveyed in the art world. Mouth To Mouth is good, it makes some interesting observations and it’s certainly worth reading, but I’m not sure it’s quite as brilliant or profound as it’s made out to be. I can still recommend it, though.
(My thanks to Atlantic Books for an ARC via NetGalley.)
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