Let the Dark Flower Blossom examines truth and story

Norah Labiner’s Let the Dark Flower Blossom (Coffee House Press) is a definitely a novel for writers and avid readers. It is one of those intellectually written novels that doesn’t just tell a story in a smart and unique way, it examines the story and all of the aspects that make a story, the elements that a story needs to succeed in a readers mind. While weaving through points of view and versions of stories, Labiner throws in writing rules, and ponders the necessity of truth – but believe me, it is definitely not Truth.

“Of course, it wasn’t a story, not really. There was a story hidden inside of it. It was not a story, but it contained a story. It was not a story. It was a box. It was a bird. It was both tree and forest. It might have been a bough or branch but it was not a story. It had no beginning. It had no end. It was an egg. It was a shell. It was a stone. It was an apple. It was an apricot. It was a house. It was a locked door. It was not a story.”

It is a novel about other novels, writers, literature, and what it means to truly tell a tale. The characters are flawed beyond, hopefully, what you are used to on a daily basis. There is murder, incest, horrid tricks, manipulations, and lies. There is great wealth, advantages, and freedoms. There is competition. And things owed, both positively and negatively. As you navigate the perspectives and versions of the story being told, you find out the details needed to piece it all together, to find out the reason behind the murder that opens the novel.

Labiner has created a novel that is almost like the childhood game played by two of her characters during their youth. They pass around a piece of paper and tell a story one sentence at a time, one person at a time. Which leads the many of the sections of the novel to read like poetry in a way. It has an effect that is both lyrical and yet somewhat disconnected. We jump from thought to thought. We do not fill in the blanks, whether it is minor detail we are missing or huge plot point. But even with these small pieces, in the end the story comes together in not really what I would call a happy ending. There is resolve. But after all is said and done, there is still so much ugly poisoning these stories.

This novel would probably be best read in a hideaway cabin in the woods, maybe a ski vacation and a glass red wine to accompany it. Or if misery isn’t quite the feeling you want to linger, make this your beach read, and devour the twisted tales that unfold and make you say, “oh no, wait, what, really?” Labiner has created one of those books where you think you know, and there are plenty of clues, but even still you are shocked at what the truth really is.