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Thomas Martin always thought he was a good man. But from the start of this debut thriller by the US writer Ani Katz, it\u2019s clear he has ruined his perfect life and hurt \u201cmy girls\u201d, as he refers to wife Miriam and teenage daughter Ava. That he uses this diminutive, possessive appellation is no coincidence: here is a man who considers his role to be that of protector, provider and ultimately controller of women.<\/p>\n
The term \u201cunreliable narrator\u201d seems like gross understatement: Thomas is slippery as an eel. He claims he\u2019s trying to understand how things went so wrong in his successful career in advertising and life with his gorgeous French wife on Long Island. He delves into his disturbed childhood with an abusive father, suicidal older sister and creepy younger twin sisters, too. We meet these two, still living in the old family home in a state of arrested development (think The Shining<\/em> meets Grey Gardens<\/em>).<\/p>\n But Thomas increasingly peppers his story with \u201cI can\u2019t remember\u201d or \u201cI may have\u201d. Conflicting accounts slowly seed further doubts about his veracity \u2013 his wife disputes his version of their first meeting, for instance. A colleague\u2019s report of a drunken night varies wildly from Thomas\u2019s telling of events.<\/p>\n Thomas is an opera fan and compares his downfall with that of Wagner\u2019s Tannh\u00e4user: \u201ca deeply flawed man who \u2026 can gain salvation through the death of his most beloved\u201d (a self-pitying position that feels increasingly nauseating). But Katz\u2019s allusions to operas can be quite heavy-handed, especially when they feature somewhat stodgy plot synopses.<\/p>\n One of the striking things about the book is Thomas\u2019s icky tone, as he constantly romanticises, almost Disneyfies women. At first I thought Katz was laying it on a bit thick \u2013 Miriam has \u201cshining doe eyes\u201d; in bed \u201cshe was untamed, and I tamed her\u201d \u2013 but in fact she is preparing the groundwork for Thomas\u2019s later possessive paranoia. There is some sloppy writing, however: would Thomas really liken his wife to a Picasso? Could he really smell her breath across the dining table? It\u2019s not always clear if this carelessness is Thomas\u2019s or Katz\u2019s own.<\/p>\n Still, the story slickly slides down its twisting descent. Katz has taken us inside the mind of the sort of man you hear about on the news and wonder about, concocting a brew of professional and personal failures, shame, childhood trauma, and overinvestment in old-fashioned, rigid gender roles. But it\u2019s perhaps still not quite heady enough to make the shift from a bad few weeks to all-out tragedy entirely convincing. I\u2019m sure many readers will find A Good Man<\/em> sordidly gripping, but I didn\u2019t feel too keen to spend the time with this distinctly nasty man.<\/p>\n