Bel Canto

From its title, which translates to “beautiful song,” and its cover, which features elegantly dressed party goers, it is nearly impossible to guess that Ann Patchett’s “Bel Canto” is a novel about terrorism. But perhaps that’s because “Bel Canto” is so far from the typical book on terrorism.

Unlike the usual nonfiction works or thrillers that center on this issue, which tend to focus on the historical and political reasons behind an attack or play up the drama of the situation, Patchett’s beautiful story focuses on the unlikely relationships that develop between 58 dinner party guests and the 18 terrorists who hold them hostage for over four and a half months.

In a time when we are constantly overwhelmed by messages about the evils of terrorism, Patchett’s novel is an effort to avoid such a flat, one-sided picture of a complex phenomenon. She reminds us that even in the most terrible of situations, the human capacity for love is so great that it can transcend political, national, and ethnic boundaries.

Patchett takes us to an unnamed South American country, where terrorists intend to abduct the president from a birthday party in honor of a prominent Japanese businessman. However, when they discover that the president is not in attendance, the terrorists instead hold the entire party hostage.

The cosmopolitan party includes a wide range of international guests, among whom at least a dozen languages are spoken. But rather than being a source of chaos, this polyphony is what makes the story so beautiful: friendships and romances are established between guests who do not speak a common language. Guests and terrorists alike begin by relying heavily on a translator, but relationships soon blossom and transcend language altogether.

Which isn’t to say that language is irrelevant: as the title suggests, Patchett’s writing has its own musical quality. From the first sentence to the last, “Bel Canto” flows so beautifully that it is quite possible to read it in one sitting. Patchett’s descriptions are so vivid that by the end, the reader feels intimately connected not only with the hostages, but also with the terrorists.

Indeed, much of what makes “Bel Canto” so engaging is the attention Patchett gives to the terrorists. Instead of portraying them as an unidentifiable mass of evil, Patchett writes about them as individuals, presenting their struggles alongside those of their hostages. With their initial plan foiled, the terrorists no longer have a course of action and struggle to agree about what they want. Though they have a general attitude of “working to free the people,” they are lost on what that specifically means.

The initial fear and uncertainty of the house soon transforms into a routine of singing, soap operas, and cooking. Relationships develop not only between the party guests, but also between the guests and their captors, and with each language lesson and chess match, there is a sense that they all have forgotten the reason they’re trapped in the house in the first place.

The international group of hostages and their captors live together amicably, creating a blissful utopia free from the violent political currents that initially brought them together.

But the real world must intrude and the stand-off must end eventually, and when it does, the reader is left feeling bittersweet, wishing that the group could have lived happily in their sealed world for years to come. The harmony that develops between hostages and captors is only possible in Patchett’s world, but we are nonetheless left hoping for its reality.

Bel Canto
By Ann Patchett
Harper Perennial
Out Now