Review: 'The Dinner' by Herman Koch

The Dinner, the commercial breakthrough of Herman Koch (1953). Koch is well-known for his appearance in Jiskefet in particular, an absurdist and humorous TV series that was broadcast on Dutch television a number of years ago. He is earning himself a reputation among a wide audience now with the book The Dinner, although he already wrote five novels between 1985 and 2005 as well.

The observer

Two brothers are having dinner with their wives in a luxurious restaurant in Watergraafsmeer (i.e. the Netherlands) to discuss a situation, which, to say the least, is tricky. The matter is not discussed right away, but they talk around the issue, chitchatting about movies, work and plans for holidays. Paul, the narrator, loathes everything about the evening, i.e. his brother - who is Prime Minister-designate -, the restaurant and beating around the bush. Probably the only reason for readers to muddle through this chitchatting is that it has been written with very much venom and humour. Furthermore, Koch is very accurate in his descriptions and contemplations.

'The thing that struck me about Claire's plate first of all was its immense emptiness. Of course, I know only too well that quality is preferred to quantity in fashionable restaurants, but there is emptiness and emptiness.'

The readers are treated to elaborate descriptions of all courses, including how they are recommended by the staff. These descriptions are striking images that push the story along.

'The manager pointed his little finger at something on our table. At the tea-warmer, I thought first (…), but the little finger pointed at the small bowl of olives that, obviously, the manager had just put there. (…) 'These are Greek olives from the Peloponnese, lightly sprinkled with first-crop extravergin olive oil from the north of Sardinia, and finished off with rosemary from...''

Even if you have never been to a restaurant with a star rating before, you will find little difficulty in seeing these things with your mind.

Moral

The reason why the characters come together is that their sons have committed a crime. Until now they are the only ones who have recognised their children in Crimewatch, which describes the dilemma right from the beginning. Will they keep silent about this and take their children under their protection or should the adolescents bear responsibility for their own actions? How far will they go to protect their children?

It is plain from the beginning that there is something wrong with Paul's son. You may find the remarks that Koch makes on this subject a bit too obvious. He even dedicates a whole chapter to it. Unfortunately, he underestimates the reader in doing so.

Evidently, Koch did not think much of this subject, for he expands the plot further with the introduction of two new elements, viz Serge Lohman having adopted a son, a black child from Burkina Faso, and the exploitation of locals in France.

'The people here start respecting you when you are working on your own house,' he said. 'It shows.' Forty times he dragged back and forth a wheelbarrow, filled with roof tiles, from the secondary road a mile away where they had been delivered, to the kitchen extension. He did not give it a moment's thought whether, as a result of his active approach, he stole a considerable part of the working hours and wages from the little bricklayer.'

Framework

Throughout the book we hardly get out of the restaurant. Occasionally, in a flashback, Koch takes us to, for instance, France and a scene that is not attributive to the plot, but merely intended to depict Serge Lohman as an extremely hideous character. It almost seems like the author wants the reader to find this person just as despicable as he does. Consequently, it is astonishing that Koch portrays Serge all the same as the only one who is willing to sacrifice his son and personal career for the truth.

As can be expected of a plot, Paul and his wife have different views and the two find themselves in opposing camps, treating the reader to a dubious ending.

'Hardly had I got to the pavement when the swing doors of the pub swung open (…). A stretcher came out, (…). Only the head of the person on the stretcher protruded from under the green sheet.'

So slowly as the beginning has been set up, so quickly the end has been dashed off. Crucial information that would have been more fitting at the beginning of the book is not presented until the end. It seems as if the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle did not fall together for the author until then, and as if he did not feel like rewriting the beginning either.

Final conclusion

Koch's style of writing makes the story easily digestible and occasionally funny. Unfortunately, the cynicism of Paul, the narrator, is annoying. Koch does not succeed in making himself invisible as an author. On the contrary, he makes his presence very much felt. 'The Dinner' gives the impression of being a one-man show in writing. Consequently, it would be more fitting for a theatre than a literary stage. Furthermore, the plot has a bad structure and little excitement to offer.

It is open to question whether this book meets the criteria to be called a novel. If a woman would write a book like this, it would probably be classified as a literary thriller.

Sources: www.todio.nl