The Blind Assassin

An exquisitely written book within a book within a book
Books within books are risky devices. A nested book can neither relate too neatly to its frame story nor travel too far from it, overwhelm it nor fall short of it. Happily, both Blind Assassins — Margaret Atwood's book and the book it contains — are enhanced and enriched by the other's existence.

The novel's main narrative traces the decline of the Chase family, a Canadian industrial dynasty, over the course of the 20th century. We are told outright that Laura Chase, narrator Iris' sister, drove her car off a bridge following World War II. We expect her reasons might be found in the Blind Assassin, her posthumously published novel. This account of passion between a well-to-do woman and a political reactionary contains yet a third story, that of the planet Zycron and, yes, its blind assassins. Iris, for her part, gives details in abundance, spanning an entire century but only revealing half of the story. She is in no rush to reveal her secrets, and it is a credit to Atwood's talent that we relish every moment of the time she takes. Few writers could pull off such a leisurely pace without seeming artificially suspenseful, but Atwood does it with grace. Her story contains so much, and yet nothing feels extra. Every sentence of each of the intertwining plot threads is exquisite, each detail feels necessary.