In the Dark

ABOVE ALL. Renata Adler's new novel, Pitch Dark, suffers from a preponderance of style over substance. Impeccably written, this fourth novel by a frequent contributor to the New Yorker lacks the one ingredient necessary to sustain the reader's interest, a story.

The novel describes the aftermath of a tortuous love affair between the narrator, Kate Ennis, and a married man named Jake. "Orcas Island," the first of the book's three parts, consists almost entirely of inconsequential vignettes, save for the occasional recollection of some uncomfortable scene with Jake, all culled from Kate's recent and distant past. An air of anticipation runs throughout these sometimes humorous, sometimes ironic sketches which appear to introduce Kate's bright but as of yet unfocused mind. These narrative throat clearings are expected to subside and the story of Kate and Jake, or at least Kate, to follow.

But the story never really gets going. In the second section, called "Pitch Dark, "Kate travels to Ireland for emotional recuperation and stays at the country home of an American diplomat. Unnerved by a slight accident involving her rented car and a truck on the way from the airport to the mansion, Kate, further depressed by the rainy climate and inhospitable people, decides to leave the country after only two days. Losing her cool, she abandons the car in a vacant lot and departs amidst exaggerated paranoia, fearing that the rental agency will have her apprehended before she leaves. Back in the States, in the third and final section, "Home," we return to Kate's rambling mental slide show which still lacks a story.

THERE ARE MOMENTS, however, in Pitch Dark when a story appears to be taking off. After setting into the Irish mansion, Kate begins to describe her surroundings and develop a relationship with the staff of servants, weaving a world which for the first time draws the reader in. Likewise, after abandoning the car, she hitches to the airport with a truck driver and it is here that the book's most interesting dialogue takes place. These are the rare occasions when the reader catches Kate outside of the stifling confines of her mind. During moments like these, Adler reveals a true gift of storytelling but she never carries through with them. They are false starts. For some frustrating reason, Adler refuses to leave Kate in one situation for too long a time, letting her muse instead in a vacuum.

Adler's writing almost makes the book worth-while despite the dearth of plot. The lean prose, pared down to the minimum, has an almost lyrical simpleness. She fills the pages with repetitions and refrains giving the novel its one redeeming feature, its rhythm.

Pitch Dark reads like meticulous entries in a diary which are understandable only to their author. If Adler would only give her storytelling abilities free reign, the product, buttressed by her fine prose, would truly be something to behold.