Noah Hawley’s BEFORE THE FALL has just received the Edgar award for best mystery of 2016. That is interesting, because the mystery elements are few. The book is much more of a mainstream novel than a mystery story. It has also been described as a thriller, but one of the ‘Reading Group Guide/Discussion Questions’ at the end raises a question about the ways in which the novel bends the conventions of that genre. Thrillers characteristically have a ticking clock in the background of the narrative (“Tick, tock, Clarice”) that adds urgency as well as an imminent threat or set of threats that bedevil the protagonist or main characters. BEFORE THE FALL has neither of these, really.



The story: a rich family summering on Martha’s Vineyard charters a private jet to fly them to Teterboro. They are accompanied by a member of their security detail and they invite another rich couple and an artist with business to conduct in Manhattan to join them. The artist is poor compared with the mega-rich others. The plane crashes and the artist (Scott Burroughs) survives, along with the 4 year-old son of the charterers. Scott swims to Montauk in the dark in what may be shark-infested waters and saves the little boy, JJ. The novel then principally consists of the back stories of the people who drowned and about 40% of the way into the novel we begin to realize that the crash may not have been an accident. The other rich invitee aboard the plane was about to be arrested for money laundering. The charterer runs a conservative television network and may have been targeted for political reasons. His head of security is an Israeli with a complex, bloody past. The co-pilot has had some sort of relationship difficulty with the flight attendant, and so on. Hence the mystery elements—what really happened? Why did the plane crash? And the thriller element—if this was a revenge or terrorist (or some other form of) plot and the son and painter survived, perhaps they will be targeted again (except that there is no plausible reason to expect so, since the painter was invited aboard at the last minute and no long-term planner would have been expecting him to be there).



There are several related plots. JJ’s aunt, who will serve as his parent now, is married to a troubled, addled writer/cook; they disagree on the uses of the considerable inheritance that the aunt will manage. The charterer’s television network includes one host who has stepped over the line and wiretapped prominent individuals. While he draws huge ratings he is a loose cannon. (Perhaps he engineered the crash, since the network chief was leaning on him?) Toward the end of the book the aunt’s husband agrees to go on the loose cannon’s show, with possible fireworks to follow. Interestingly, the loose cannon’s name is Bill Cunningham; one wonders if the conservative Cincinnati talk show host, Bill Cunningham, is offended by this.



The writing is wonderful and the book examines the psychological and philosophic aspects of all of these actions, results and circumstances in depth. The artist, e.g., has recently produced some large paintings of individuals caught in unanticipated scenes of destruction. One, for example, is a portrait of a woman on a farm who does not see the tornado in the background which is coming for her. This all sparks the interests of the FBI, but the painter himself is much more fixated on the meaning of life and the manner in which violence intrudes, unexpectedly. He broods about such things, even as a mega-rich gallery owner/heiress attempts to charm him sexually. The aunt broods over questions of justice and whether or not all of the inheritance should be preserved for JJ, while she and her husband continue to live austerely.



Bottom line: the entire ‘feel’ of the book is philosophic and the mystery/suspense elements are secondary or even tertiary. The book seizes your attention and will take you into the late hours, reading, but prospective readers should be aware that this is not a conventional mystery story. It is, however, a very fine novel.



P.S. For admirers of the author’s wonderful series, FARGO, this book has nothing in common with the series, neither in the nature of the characters, plots and themes, nor in the narrative ‘ethos’.