The Unknown Terrorist

The protagonist of this devastating thriller is a young woman from the poor West side of Sydney, who wants only to save some money, buy an apartment, and get herself into college. But only occasionally does Flanagan use her name, Gina Davies; for the most part he refers to her simply as "The Doll." A curious decision for such a humane author, for this name, given her by the manager of the club where Gina works as a pole dancer, is surely the epitome of de-humanization. But here Flanagan works his special alchemy. He relies on his readers refusing to believe what is said about Gina Davies, refusing her demeaning name, refusing to regard her as merely an object. Indeed the only ascending line in the relentless downward spiral of this gripping book is the way we come to see Gina as the one complete human being among all the others graced with full names but shrunken souls. The mechanism of the book is simple, and essentially summarized on the back cover. Gina is photographed by a security camera entering an apartment building with a new friend. The man, it turns out, is under suspicion by the police, who publish the picture of him with Gina. She is recognized by an unscrupulous news anchor who seizes the chance to boost his falling ratings. The resulting media firestorm makes Gina simultaneously the most notorious woman in Sydney and the least understood. For Sydney, though, read London, Madrid, New York, your own big city. Although this is totally an Australian book, filled with local slang, advertising slogans, and street names, the portrait of the post-9/11 world might apply anywhere. Australia, it appears, has its own version of the Patriot Act, carrying the same danger of trampling civil liberties when it is misapplied. Anger at the misuse of political power is not new for Flanagan. Both of his other books that I have read, the extraordinary GOULD'S BOOK OF FISH and the more recent WANTING, are about different types of oppression, whether against convicts in Tasmania or the aboriginal people. But both are set in the 19th century; this leap into the 21st is new. All three novels, however, show Flanagan's sympathy with the underclass. This one is speckled with cameos of street people and beggars, poor souls at the bottom of their luck. On top are the movers and shakers seen in their guarded mansions amid luxurious accessories -- empty people whom Gina tries to emulate by buying the occasional Versace bag or Prada dress. Yet she is nearer the bottom than she would like to believe. Adrift in a soulless world, Gina does what she must and tries not to feel. But sometimes something breaks through her shell -- a phrase of Chopin, a moment in bed (the book can be quite explicit). Being called "The Doll" does not strip Gina Davies of a soul; it merely makes it all the more painful when it comes rushing back. More painful, yet also more miraculous.

The most exciting thrillers I've read in the last few years --- Peter Temple's Identity Theory, Charles McCarry's The Tears of Autumn and now this nail-biter from Richard Flanagan --- all have politics at their center. There's a reason. Unlike far too many novels, they're about something that matters. For Temple, what matters is digitized information, and who gets their hands on it, how they acquire it, and what they use it for. For McCarry, it's who really killed Jack Kennedy, and why. And for Flanagan, it's the terrorist threat --- just perhaps not the one you think. Richard Flanagan? Don't fault yourself for not recognizing the best writer who ever left Tasmania for Australia. His first novel won major Australian literary prizes; his second sold 150,000 copies and was, unsurprisingly, named the Australian Booksellers Book of the Year; his third was also a smash. And long before "The Unknown Terrorist" made many "best of 2007" lists, it was snatched up for a film by DreamWorks. So you get a bonus in this thriller --- it's a seriously good piece of writing. Better to think of it as a novel that just happens to be thrilling, for right off, Flanagan violates all the traditions. Start with the dedication: for David Hicks. Another name you don't recognize? Hicks was the Australian who --- before 9/11 ---trained with Al Qaeda. He was captured in Afghanistan in December of 2001, detained at Guantanamo under conditions that led him to think seriously of suicide, and, in 2007, allowed to plead guilty to meaningless charges so he could finish the final months of a sentence that had, by then, been mostly suspended. Reality check: You don't dedicate a novel to a convicted terrorist if you think he actually did something. And then, right in the introduction, Flanagan reveals that the character known as "the Doll" --- his main character --- will die. Name another thriller that blows what's traditionally a surprise and thus turns the exciting questions into why and how and who. Reality check: The only one that comes to mind is "The Day of the Jackal", in which, as we already know, Charles de Gaulle does not get assassinated. And, just to top it off, there's not much to know about the main character. The Doll --- Gina Davies, but she's so isolated only a few people could tell you her name --- works the pole in a Sydney men's club. Mother dead, father long gone, she's a product of the dreary modern world quite familiar to her clients and everyone reading these words: the world "of the house, the job, the possessions and the cars, the friends and the renovations, the resort holidays and the latest gadgets." The Doll is, in her way, happy in this world; she accepts it, she considers herself a realist. Defined thus: "Realism is the embrace of disappointment, in order no longer to be disappointed." The day the novel begins, there's a terrorist bomb scare --- three bombs found in backpacks --- at the Olympic stadium. Richard Cody covers the event for hi

A big departure from the (delicious) literary hijinks of Gould's Book of Fish, but no less multi-leveled in meaning. Whereas in Fish, the reader is presented with many unreliable narrators, in this new novel there is a single, frighteningly reliable narrator. Not at all a book about terrorism, although the book is Flanagan the firebrand at his best. Rather, the book is a sensitive meditiaton on the illusory nature and value of love, life, beauty and truth. The main character, Doll, is a throw-away worker in Sydney's sex industry. Suddenly and randomly, she becomes notorious and important as a suspected terrorist. Finally, she ends up a ritual sacrifice of sorts, as so many women in history have become. Yes, yes, the book is also about the deeply evil turn Western governments have taken in the name of the "war on terror." But this is the most superficial level of meaning. There is a lot more here for the thoughtful reader. A really terrific book. Unlike in Fish, Flanagan is hiding nothing. Flanagan is probably the greatest English language writer active today. One more thing. Make sure you have a recording of Chopin's Nocturne in F on hand when you are reading this book. Better yet, put it on perpetual repeat.

Richard Flanagan's new novel (released in Australia in December 2006) is about terrorism. Not the kind that involves suicide bombings and religious fervour; the kind that involves mass paranoia and the abuse of power. The second kind is the more insidious. The unknown terrorist of the title is Gina Davies, a young woman from the suburbs, pretty much alone in the world and focused entirely on achieving material dreams. She's a stripper and pole dancer, a pill-popper and, on the whole, rather a shallow person. Not the kind of character you'd normally feel for as a reader. Yet Flanagan succeeds in making us sympathise with her completely, to feel outrage and pity for the monumental injustice she suffers at the hands of the authorities, the media and the society she inhabits. A chance encounter and a one-night stand with a suspected terrorist (who, as it turns out, probably isn't a terrorist after all) transforms the rather naive Gina into public enemy number one. Frightened, confused and mistrustful of authority, she becomes a fugitive. Fuelled by hysterical media coverage, Gina is hunted down as a dangerous home-grown terrorist. The ending is not happy. Certainly, The Unknown Terrorist is emotionally gripping. As we follow Gina's mental and physical unravelling, it's very hard to remain detached. It's hard because it's all so absurd. Surely no sane society could put two and two together and get five in such a disastrous, unjust way. Of course, it's a highly political novel, and as such, its purpose is to arouse, to question, to jolt. It succeeds handsomely in this regard. It's also guilty of being melodramatic at times, and some strands of the storyline are a little too contrived. However, judging a political novel purely on its technical merit would be to miss the point completely. Flanagan has set out to make a powerful statement and has succeeded. I hope lots of people read it and talk about it. I hope someone makes a film of it. It's not an uplifting book by any means - it's pessimistic and downright depressing, in fact. But it's an important book for our times, such as they are.

Just what is a "terrorist"? How does one identify such a person? How many terrorist threats are valid and how many contrivances? Richard Flanagan examines the logic behind the terrorist designation so easily bandied about by governments and a subservient media. He accomplishes this through a narrative with many unexpected twists and compelling nuances. Far more than the thriller this book might seem from its title, Flanagan has given us a glaring social statement. It's one we must all give our attention. Flanagan's message is conveyed by Gina Davies, pole dancer in Sydney's inner city. Well depicted by the author, Gina - a name few know her by - has many identities. Her manager has promoted her beauty and skills under a variety of pseudonyms. How these appellations reach and influence the public is but one of Flanagan's less subtle nuances. Spending a night with a man who rescued her friend's son from Bondi Beach's treacherous surf, Gina - known here as "Doll" is dismayed to learn Tariq is a terrorist - a terrorist suspect, anyway. Worse, she's been tabbed as his partner. Television journalist Richard Cody uses Doll to save his job by turning her into "the unknown terrorist". He urges the Australian public to fear her and the authorities to capture her. Doll's reaction is to flee or hide instead of confronting her accusers. The forces arrayed against her seem too formidable to counter directly. Before long her every move conveys the image of a hooked fish. No manner of twists and turns will shake the hook. Indeed, every dodge and leap only seems to set the barb more firmly. Flanagan's cast of characters is an indication of his writing skills. Each portrayal is true to life - any embellishment would detract from the tale. The characters are the story's threads, laid down individually and seemingly randomly at the beginning. As their actions form the narrative plot, those "people threads" begin to draw together. Interactions bring unsuspected coherence as the account takes form. As if this story wasn't timely enough, the anguish of Sydney's populace at coming to grips with the idea of a "home-grown" terrorist strikes yet another chord in light of the London bombings of 2005. Could this be repeated in Australia? Or elsewhere? Doll's attempts to evade the authorities only seem to tighten the noose of their quest to find her. As she dodges and slips from place to place, we're given her background and the lives of those who seek her. This might seem a heavy burden for readers, but Flanagan keeps his characters constrained. He limits his backgrounds to what's pertinent to this story. Since it is the characters building the plot, instead of vice versa, Flanagan's technique proves a credit to his skills. Outlandish as some of the story developments might seem, nothing here is implausible. In today's world, how could they be otherwise? [stephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada]