Book Review: Liar & Spy by Rebecca Stead

A remarkably spoiler-free review

Plot

Georges' life isn’t going so well. Middle school is a gauntlet of awkward relationships and bully-avoidance strategies. He has been forced to move from his beloved home to an apartment building because his father lost his job. His mother, a nurse, is at the hospital all the time, pulling double shifts to make up the income gap. Georges only communicates with her via Scrabble tile messages (he leaves one before going to bed, and receives her reply when he wakes up). It’s like an ouija board for absentee parents, and the image perfectly encapsulates Geroges’s disconnect from the world.

So when the confused and friendless Georges finally meets Safer, the strange, smart, coffee-quaffing kid in the building, he’s willing to be pulled into Safer’s orbit. But Safer's’ idea of entertainment––spying on a mysterious neighbor in the building––soon grows into something more dangerous, and Georges must decide how far he’s willing to go as Safer’s friend.

Style

There’s a sense of timelessness about Liar and Spy. It could as easily be set in the 1970’s as today, and the core of it will still be relevant when we finally get rocket packs. The setting is Brooklyn, but the real setting is the tiny sphere that is Georges’ world: school, home, and the well-trodden pathways in between. This world is small, as any middle schooler’s would be. But the world of this apartment building is small in a way that is deliberately claustrophobic and subtly threatening. The boys meet in basement rooms and darkened hallways. The intercom camera in the lobby sees all. Safer walks the dogs in a oubliette-like courtyard. It's noir for the backpack set.

In Stead’s writing, there is no superfluity. Every detail has purpose. Everything matters. When Stead doesn’t tell you something about a character, her omission is as telling as...well, telling would be. Even my very brief re-read highlighted a number of details that (in true Keyser Soze style) meant so much more the second time around, clues only obvious in retrospect. The story also has its moments of creepiness (particularly when Safer is involved). These passages are deliciously disturbing, just off-kilter enough to remind us not to get too comfy. Stead is playing a game as much as she’s telling a story.

Liar and Spy is a mystery, or more accurately a set of nested box mysteries, each linked to the other. When the revelations start coming, the result is a satisfying and elegant conclusion that feels earned. Georges makes decisions leading to real change in his life, but there’s no false heartiness or any implication that all his problems are solved. Stead avoided easy answers, instead offering a challenge to George and to the reader.

As a person, Georges is very normal boy. He has no wild talents, nor strange afflictions. His normalcy is what makes him so believable. The advent of middle school had landed him with the less popular kids. He deals with the teasing of two bullies with a stoicism that is probably far more common than any parent would want to admit. And his inward musings on Georges Seurat, tastebuds and destiny, Chinese food, and middle school politics feel so spot-on, like Stead extracted some kid’s brain and got the essence of his insecurities nicely laid out on microscope slides for us to see.

The Takeaway

Stead is a fan-freaking-tastic writer (she has, in fancy-pants language, mastered her craft). The elegance of the writing, combined with the difficult problems that Stead throws at her characters and her ability to resolve those issue without solving them for her characters, results in a book that can be read, reread, and recommended for years to come. And isn’t that what we all dream of?