The Tremor of Forgery by Patricia Highsmith

 


Patricia Highsmith's The Tremor of Forgery serves as an indictment of modern society every bit as penetrating as Greene's The Quiet American and Camus' The Stranger. I see there is a study guide for the novel, and for good reason: the story, the four main characters, and the political and cultural elements are all worthy of in-depth analysis.

However, for the purposes of my review, I'll focus on the one character I found to be among the most detestable I've encountered: Francis J. Adams.

We first meet Adams, a short, balding, paunchy, fifty-something American from Connecticut, when he approaches the beach chair of the main character, a writer by the name of Howard Ingham. Adams asks Ingham in a loud, brassy voice if he's an American. When Ingham says, "Yes," he proudly proclaims, in turn, "My name's Adams. Francis J. Adams." Following some chitchat, Adams invites Ingham to stop by his bungalow sometime for a drink.

The prime location for the novel is a hotel with bungalows along the coast of Tunisia. With a few quick strokes, Patricia Highsmith provides us with key information: Adams is loud, brash, and intrusive, a man with a grandiose sense of superiority because, after all, he's an American.

When Ingham accepts Adam's offer to join him in his bungalow, he takes a look around – among the contents: a much used writing table with stacks of papers, on open dictionary, a Reader's Digest, and a Bible. Adams walks out of his kitchen holding a scotch and soda, bouncing on his toes. Ingham observes, “Adams had high arches, high insteps and rather small feet. There was something disgusting about Adams' feet, and having looked at them once, Ingham did not look again.”

Adams' feet are a telling detail, such a revealer of character (or, more to the point, lack of character). In traditional societies, one's feet serve as grounding to the earth, a sense of solidity, just the opposite of bouncing on one's toes while walking. Likewise, in the world of dance and physical theater – to walk, to move, it is important to be grounded in order to establish balance and equilibrium, and one's feet serve as the all-important anchor. I speak from direct experience in these arts.

The novel takes place in 1967, the year of the Arab-Israeli Six-Day War. Since Adams is in his fifties, most of his adult life has been spent in the 1930s to the 1950s, a period when it was a common practice for men and women to frequently drink liquor. In nearly every scene, like the one cited here, Adams is drinking and pushing booze on Ingham and others. Living alone, isolated in a foreign land, I think it's safe to infer that Adams is an alcoholic.

Adams is described as having “a squirrel-like smile.” Indeed, there is an undeniable sense of restlessness and nervousness about this loutish man, including his frequent, nervous way of laughing, ha-ha. When Ingham asks Adams what he does to fill his time, Adams replies, “I consider myself an unofficial ambassador for America. I spread goodwill – and the American way of life. Our way of life.” This is a very revealing statement – Adams assumes anyone who is a true blue American will share his thinking and values. This “our way of life” is so fundamental to Adams that Ingham thinks of him as OWL.

Deeper into the conversation, when Adams, aka OWL, discovers that Ingham is a novelist, he states, “I don't read much fiction. Now and then, something that's condensed. Like in the Reader's Digest, you know.” This admission is entirely predictable. Fiction requires a reader to shift perspectives, to see the world the way the characters (and author) see the world. For the likes of Adams, with his small, self-centered vision of himself and “our way of life,” such a shift is nearly impossible. The Reader's Digest. Ha! I can imagine Patricia Highsmith cringing when she typed out this scene.

Several chapters on, Ingham and Adams are dining out at a restaurant. Adams launches into a monologue on the virtues of democracy and Christian morals for everyone, which has a tincture of irony since he's been living among Arabs in Tunisia for the past year. Adams drones on, “You can see it in their faces, the men who have turned their back on God....Drug addicts, alcoholics, homosexuals, criminals – and even the ordinary man in the street, if he's forgotten the Right Way – they're all wretched. But they can be shown the Right Way . . .” Of course, the tacit statement is Adams knows the right way, the American way, the Christian way, and he's among the chosen ones to correct anyone who dares hold views and opinions contrary to his own. And note how Adams includes alcoholics in his list. Again, predictable – Adams is obviously in a state of denial.

I need not continue, as I think you can surmise where Adams stands on everything touching on politics and religion, on communism and the Vietnam War, and on Ingham's moral responsibility when he's eventually involved in a crime. I read Patricia Highsmith's modern classic, reflecting on Adams and his blessed “our way of life,” with an eye to how the wise author accurately predicted the current cultural crisis we face in the United States.


American author Patricia Highsmith, 1921- 1995

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