Some critics argue that novels cannot be successful unless the characters are likeable. We often wonder if that’s true and whether or not a reader can discover the awful truth behind a character’s backstory without losing complete trust and interest in a work of fiction. After reading Herman Koch’s translated novel “The Dinner,” we’ve decided that interesting, complex characters are much more significant than likeable ones.
The novel, first published in the Netherlands in 2009, has become a sensation in the international literary world after its English translation was released. The plot takes place in the span of one night, centering on two couples as they meet for a five-course meal at an expensive restaurant in Amsterdam. Familial ties bond the two couples, and even further, they are bonded by a horrible secret.
Our narrator is Paul Lohman, a retired schoolteacher with a propensity for strange social behavior. He and his brother Serge, a successful politician, have had a rather rocky relationship, and yet, they are bonded by the close friendship between their sons. In fact, Paul is disgusted by his brother and reveals that their relationship has a violent history. When we discover that the two young sons have committed a horrendous and violent crime, we are shocked and confused, and are desperate to see how the act will be resolved.
Though we want to trust our narrator, it soon becomes clear that Paul is extremely unreliable and capable of intensely violent outbursts. We do not like Paul, and we soon learn that his wife, Claire, possesses a cool ability for calculated manipulations.
The novel is divided into five parts, paralleling the five courses of the meal. In each course, we learn more about the crime, the history of the characters’ relationships, and even worse, we learn about more of Paul’s unsettling behaviors. Soon, we learn that Paul suffers from a neurological illness, though it is never explicitly named, which accounts for his violence. What’s worse, we learn that this illness is genetic and may explain why his son has committed such a shocking and malicious crime.
With this knowledge, the reader is overcome with a sense of hopelessness, as the novel assigns blame to the inevitability of fate. If these behaviors are genetic, then there is no escaping this violence. The reader cannot trust Paul and therefore feels lost in the dark twistedness of his mind and psyche.
But for some reason, this lack of trust and likeability did not discourage us from reading the rest of Koch’s novel. Instead, we found ourselves even more enthralled by the family’s struggles and intense psychological illness. “The Dinner” is a thrilling and consuming novel of sickness, violence, and the strength of family ties.