asianamlitfans | A Review of R.O. Kwon’s The Incendiaries (Riverheard Hardcover, 2018) (Reply)

A Review of R.O. Kwon’s The Incendiaries (Riverheard Hardcover, 2018).
By Stephen Hong Sohn

I had a false start with this novel sometime last year. It is R.O. Kwon’s absolutely stunningly written debut called The Incendiaries (Riverhead, 2019). I was having trouble getting into the narrative discourse, partly I think because there are three fairly distinct narrative perspectives.

The first is given to a man named Will; he has lost his faith and seems to be seeking a new sense of life’s purpose. This narrative perspective is given in the first person. The second is given to Phoebe Lin. This particular narrative perspective was the weirdest to me. It seems to be related to the fact that Phoebe has joined an organization, which we later realize is more likely a cult, and that Phoebe is in the process of a kind of public confession. Thus, Phoebe’s sections are almost like monologue, except for the fact that there are occasional moments where you realize that the section is really being told in the third person, with a very distant narrator. The final narrative perspective is a more standard third, with brief snippets that give us the background of John Leal, the leader of the cultish organization in which Phoebe gets entangled.

I was later listening to a podcast where you get a sense of Kwon’s motivations in terms of the narrative discourse. She makes a really interesting observation that she found it easier to tell the story once she gave the primary narrative perspective to a character that wasn’t a part of much of the direct action. Indeed, Will’s not really the protagonist. Everything centers around and is really about Phoebe and her past. Will’s an incredibly astute and sensitive observer, so his narrative sections really allow the novel to shine brightly. The sections with Phoebe and John tend to be darker, moody, and provide information on each character’s checkered pasts.

Once Phoebe and John really meet in the narrative discourse, it’s pretty much all downhill from that point forward. The basic plot for this spare novel is that Phoebe joins John’s organization, which leads to a series of bombings targeted at abortion clinics. Will is the observer to Phoebe’s descent into John’s machinations. Phoebe and John have a lengthier past history, as John and Phoebe’s family once ran in similar circles.

What Kwon is grappling with most is the question of faith. One of the moments where this problem really becomes apparent is when we find out that the death of Phoebe’s mother was far more protracted than we had at first realized. Indeed, Phoebe and her mother were in a car accident. In the seconds leading up to the collision, Phoebe’s mother had thrown herself in front of Phoebe, which shielded Phoebe from much of the impact. In the aftermath of the crash, her mother is literally dying in front of her, but Phoebe is stuck in the twisted prison of the car and cannot wrest herself or her mother. Whether or not it would have mattered that Phoebe could have gotten her mother out quicker is not the issue: Phoebe’s traumatic experience of this event colors her understanding of the world around her. What matters when this kind of nonsensical torture can be allowed to occur, especially in front of loved ones?

Phoebe’s purposelessness is exactly what John Leal can prey upon. Leal himself is a complicated character who survived time in a North Korean labor camp. Much like Phoebe, the issue of faith has driven him to change his tactics concerning what he considers to be forms of injustice and violence occurring. Perhaps the greatest tragedy in this novel is apparent in the way that such vibrant characters are given over to such extreme actions. You can’t help but want to find a way to help Phoebe. In this kind of readerly response, Kwon has surely succeeded. We’re as helpless as Will is, watching another crash occur—albeit a metaphorical one—unfold before all of our eyes.

Where has Phoebe gone by the novel’s end? We’re not sure but we don’t have much reason to hope in this case, so we’ll relish Kwon’s exquisite prose instead. It’s the salve that makes the narrative’s irresolution that much more bearable. As a note, I later discovered through a podcast that this novel took 10 years to write, partly because of Kwon’s painstaking and meticulous attention to prose. It makes total sense. You’ll see right away that the level of craft and attention to individual words and phrases makes this reading experience its own. The prose sparks off the page, Kwon’s style uniquely hers. Let’s hope she takes way less time for the second publication while retaining her gift for effulgent prose.

Buy the Book Here!

Review Author: Stephen Hong Sohn
Review Editor: Leslie J. Fernandez

If you have any questions or want us to consider your book for review, please don’t hesitate to contact us via email!
Prof. Stephen Hong Sohn at ssohnucr@gmail.com
Gnei Soraya Zarook, PhD Student in English, at gzaro001@ucr.edu