Jennifer duBois' Cartwheel

I recently reviewed a book for Library Journal by an author with whom I was unfamiliar. "The Spectators," review coming soon, is a timely, insightful take on the influence of celebrity, the public persona versus the actual human being behind the mask. In scouting out interviews with the author, gathering background information, I discovered that she had written two novels prior to this one and each had won numerous awards. Where had I been? https://www.jennifer-dubois.com/about


"Cartwheel" came out in 2013 to much acclaim. It, too, examines celebrity and the pernicious, powerful effect that the media wields on our perceptions of people. This book is a

sophisticated and intricate character study that belies the youth of its author. It's about judgments made based on tabloid fodder, based on indiscreet social media posts, based on appearances, or even on body language, for instance, a cartwheel. You will find yourself guilty of pronouncing on these characters before the author has doled out all that she wants you to know about them. But if your emotional IQ is high, you may just find that you'll step back from the judgments for a little while and be very grateful that you're not on the jury.

DuBois tells us that the inspiration for this book was the headline grabbing murder trial in Italy of American foreign-exchange student Amanda Knox. If you followed the news at the time you may have held a strong opinion regarding Knox's guilt or innocence. "Cartwheel," takes place in Buenos Aires, the student being held in prison is Lily Hayes. Her roommate, Katy Kellers, is dead.

From those facts the author sets out to muddy the waters, introducing readers to Lily from the viewpoints of her father and sister, her landlady, Sebastien, her strange and ethereal lover, and the prosecutor. As each of these characters ruminates on the Lily they know, we the readers realize how extraordinarily difficult it is to truly fathom another soul's deepest reaches. 

How does a parent begin to cope with the thought that maybe, just maybe, his child is capable of murder? How horrible it must be to examine all the years that came before, looking for that tiny indication that something was awry. The joy she took in killing bugs? The lack of emotion at her grandmother's funeral? And if it's true, what does it say about us, the mother, the father, the genetic trail?

And what, the author asks, are the ramifications of the cultural barrier? Lily, a cosseted American in the eyes of the Argentinians, seems on the surface to embrace the cross-cultural exchange but are her actions perceived as condescending by her hosts. Does her attitude toward the politics, mores, and laws of her host country smack just a bit of arrogance?

Guilty? Innocent? Let's talk.

This smartly written, psychologically astute novel is a propulsive read and would lend itself well to a book discussion, as would her new one due out in April. As for me, I'm headed back to the library for "A Partial History of Lost Causes," finalist for a Pen/Hemingway Award.