A few weeks ago, I picked up my copy of The Cardturner, by Louis Sachar, for the first time in over a year. I jumped into the middle and started reading, skimming through in the assurance that I remembered the plot well enough to simply dabble with rereading. Within ten pages, I was in tears, and I’d remembered why I first fell in love with this novel, when I reviewed it after its release: below is the review I wrote–every word is still true.
Bridge. Louis Sachar, award-winning author of the spectacular young adult novel Holes, had decided to write an entire novel about bridge. I couldn’t believe it. With all the wonderful, fascinating, creative ideas to write about, with all his genius and potential…he chose bridge. I’m a huge fan of Louis Sachar, but when I heard this, even I doubted his ability to make a book about a teenage boy who turns cards for his legally blind great-uncle exciting (an opinion which, according to Sachar’s introduction, was shared by his publisher, editor, wife, and agent). As a result, my attitude when I picked up The Cardturner, was, let us say, sceptical. Then I started the book. Not only was The Cardturner witty, engaging, clever, and wise beyond my wildest expectations, it was actually making me enjoy a card game I thought you had to be born knowing how to play. In fact, I found myself in the highly unusual position of having to force myself to put the book down in favour of things like food and sleep…I couldn’t stop reading (I love when this happens).
The novel is set in the present day, and indeed the characters and the tone are both extremely contemporary (Sachar has even managed to subtly capture the financial anxieties of the last few years). Narrator and protagonist Alton Richards is philosophical, funny, and quick, and his story, while timeless (boy goes to work for curmudgeonly relative; boy meets girl; boy learns family secrets and—well, I can’t tell you any more or I’ll spoil the story), is utterly modern. However, a compelling subplot threaded throughout also recreates a time when bridge was played in all the best houses (especially that big white one in Washington, DC), when “I Like Ike” was a national catchphrase, and when a woman was most definitely the property of her husband–however he might treat her.
Add to that a superb supporting cast of modern-day characters including Alton’s great-uncle Lester Trapp’s extremely unusual niece Toni (also known as his protégée and ex-cardturner), Alton’s financially-anxious parents, his ever-cool best friend Cliff (yes, the one who Alton’s girlfriend Katie dumped him for), and his younger sister Leslie (who shows more cool-headed intelligence than anyone who isn’t 11 would believe), and you have the recipe for an absolutely stellar novel.
Plot and characters alike are powerful, complex, and touched in turns by tragedy and joy, sorrow and laughter; issues of sexism, domestic violence, politics, romance, religion, and even the meaning of life are deftly interwoven in this unique coming-of-age story, as Alton struggles to discover his own identity and beliefs—inspired by everything from his remarkable yet caustic uncle, to Steinbeck’s Cannery Row, to the complex, fascinating game that is unfolding before Alton as he is drawn further into the world of bridge.
Indeed, as you read The Cardturner you too may find yourself drawn into a world of excitement and intelligence: Sachar, himself a devotee of bridge from a very early age, infuses the story with his passion for the game as he offers instruction on everything from the basic rules of bridge to sophisticated and intriguing ploys to aid you at the championship level. These instructions, preceded by the image of a whale (inspired by another dense epic, Moby Dick, which similarly goes into detail that, while important, isn’t strictly relevant to the main story) so, as Alton says “if that makes you zone out, you can skip ahead to the summary box,” where the play is described as briefly as possible and you can get back to the plot. However, Sachar’s intelligent, accurate, and cleverly colloquial description of the plays will have you diving deep into the details of bridge, relishing the excitement inherent in the explanation.
Louis Sachar is well-known as a smart and funny writer. But until you read this book, you cannot fully grasp just how truly and completely wise and talented he really is: he doesn’t shy away from complex ideas or profound discussion, but weaves these threads in with a magnificent deftness of touch and such an engaging tone that the most reluctant reader cannot help but be inspired. The next time you’re looking for something new to read, take a chance on The Cardturner you won’t regret it, and it might just change your life; it’s certainly changed mine.
Four years later, I still stand by my last line.