The Life and Death of Sophie Stark by Anna North
My rating: 5/5 cats
“I thought making movies would make me more like other people,” said Sophie. “But sometimes I think it just makes me even more like me.”
man, i just loved this book. it reminded me of my favorite robert coover novel – John’s Wife, or the structural underpinnings of twin peaks in that all of the action revolves around a central character, in this case sophie stark, who is both charismatic and enigmatic, and never given a voice in her own story except through the filter of others. the narrative is driven by those who had considered themselves close to her, and it is the memories of their experiences with sophie and their interpretations of her behavior that shape the reader’s understanding of who she was. it’s a tricky thing to do well, but north handles it perfectly.
i had read her first novel, America Pacifica, years ago and it was a lightweight post-apocalyptic piece that didn’t really impress me, but i have to say, this one was excellent. her writing, her characterization, her quiet perfect behavioral observations, it’s all incredibly strong here.
sophie stark is a filmmaker whose movies are beautiful, disquieting and emotionally jarring. very image-focused, they reveal something to the viewer that speaks to the human condition but is also somehow distancing: …as if an alien had come down and filmed humans and shown us what we were like so much more honestly then any other human could.
and it is this bewitching/disturbing duality that has made sophie’s movies so compelling, but has made a shambles of her personal life. her character is dissected by the people to whom she was closest, and those who felt closest to her work: her brother, her girlfriend, her husband, a former obsession, a critic, and a producer.
sophie has never been able to relate to people on an emotional level, and she can only understand them through the lens of a camera. i’m sure she is meant to be somewhere on the spectrum, but this book isn’t about neurology, it is about the sacrifices a true visionary makes in order to fulfill their goals. sophie has patience, strength, and confidence in her work, and she is able to manifest something in her art that stuns the subject.
her brother remembers:
Sophie had gotten a little point-and-shoot camera for her fifteenth birthday, and she’d taken photos on and off since then. She’d taken one of me when we were both in high school that I still love – I’m sitting on our front steps eating an ice cream sandwich, and I look more like myself than I’ve ever looked in any mirror, a little bit angry but a little bit hopeful, too, like I’m looking forward to not being mad.
but sophie is also a slave to her artistic temperament which will not allow her to spare someone’s feelings if she senses that a more powerful story can be told. after she infuriates her husband by using his tragic memories of his mother in a film that he understood was to employ more of a hopeful, cathartic tone, she recognizes that his anger is justified, but her artistic scruples would not allow her to pull her punches:
…I got into it, and I realized there was a much better way to make it that would be really beautiful and interesting, And I knew I could either make it happy or I could make it good.
all of the people in sophie’s life have been hurt by her in various ways, but sophie is not necessarily a malicious person. she’s empathically-challenged, and she comes across as cold and driven, but several anecdotes show her vulnerability, and her longing to connect at a deeper level. she just doesn’t understand the balance – how to be as patient in her personal life as she is with the details of her art, and she doesn’t have it in her to be pinned down for too long.
…long ago I’d had to accept that I would see and know Sophie on her terms and not mine.
this book is largely about damage. all of the people who fall under sophie’s magnetism are damaged in some way, the way all people are, but there is very little regret in their memories of her – it is a privilege to have been allowed as close as she would allow.
And when people ask me why I married her that September, even though I’d known her for only three months and I knew it wouldn’t last, I tell them that a life is a heavy burden and imagine if someone just carried it for you for a while, just picked it up and carried it.
the vagueness about who is carrying whom here is one of those nice, subtle moments, as well as the many small contradictions that appear as we observe how differently the other characters interpret sophie’s behavior based on their own experiences. and how different combinations of people encourage different facets of a person to emerge: her brother claims he had only seen sophie cry once, but her husband sees her cry on the very first night they meet. it’s the small details like these that make this book so strong and so realistic.
it’s also there in the way that the other characters are free with their own backstories, allowing us to see their own damage and how they were able to be sucked into her orbit. like her girlfriend allison:
I worked at a diner until my manager started stealing my tips, and then as a bar waitress until a customer tried to follow me home, and then at a bodega where I had to stay because I had no ideas left, even though the owner always pressed his crotch against my ass when he walked behind me and yelled at me for not selling expired food. I felt like I’d come to a place for people who didn’t know how to be people, and if I was there I must not really know how to be a person either.
allison knows how to “be a person” much better than sophie does, but she hurts people, too. no one is exempt from the casual cruelty people inflict throughout their lives, but as a public figure, sophie’s shortcomings transcend the personal realm and become lore.
the ending is not surprising – it’s all right there in the title, and the “how” of it is a pretty foregone conclusion. but this isn’t a mystery novel, it’s the study of one troubled, dynamic woman, whose life is scrutinized both by her inner circle and by those who only “knew” her through her art. it’s a lovely story; strong and haunting, spotlighting all the pitfalls and warts of loving and being loved.
…all my strongest memories of Sophie were of her leaving.
yeah. read it.
