Stephen Gallup's Reviews > Trader

I was casually browsing the book sale table at the library when this title caught my eye. "Trader" -- my first thought was that it might be about trading stocks or futures. Picking it up, I realized it was a fantasy -- way over at the other end of the spectrum, although on second thought the ambitions of your average trader probably do border on fantasy. But never mind that. I bought it anyway.

Nominally about Max Trader, a renowned but introverted maker of fine guitars, the story shows what happens when, inexplicably, he wakes up one morning in a stranger's body, having somehow traded places overnight with an unsavory guy who is about to be evicted from his apartment.

The tale of Max's quest to get back what used to be his, and what he learns along the way, amounts to a rite of passage toward a more authentic life, and I have only minor quibbles about that. However, four other main characters get essentially as much attention in the unfolding narrative as does Max, and that's where the problems lie. The author tells the story in what I think of as "basket-weaver" style, by which I mean the chapters alternate from Max to Leffy (an aspiring guitarist who dreams of playing professionally if she can overcome her shyness), Tanya (Leffy's roommate, a talented actress who has stopped acting), Nia (an alienated teenager), and Lisa (Nia's mom, who is preoccupied with the trauma of coming out of the closet). Most chapters conclude with minor cliffhangers, making the switch to another point of view somewhat irksome, but for me the book's basic flaw was that all these other characters are not very interesting. I suppose the idea is that all of them are in the process of learning to live more authentically, but even so their dialog in particular is utterly banal and put me in mind of the kind of mass-market chick-lit you see in grocery stores. I don't like to skim, but I found myself doing that every time these other characters started talking.

Aside from that, De Lint is competent at what he does. (He should be, given all the titles to his credit -- nine pages on goodreads. Prolific!) It's escapism, which for me definitely serves a purpose every so often.