The Truth About The Harry Quebert Affair

“I began to understand that glory was a Gorgon who could turn you to stone if you failed to continue performing. My share of the public’s attention had been taken over by the latest rising politicians, the stars of the hottest new reality T.V. show and a rock band that had just broken through. It was a ludicrously short time frame as far as I was concerned since my book had appeared, but on a global scale it was an eternity.” 

In this quote, the author suggests artistic endeavor exists precariously within a materialistic culture based on profit margins and new content. The use of the classical Greek image of the Gorgon underlines the deep roots of consumerist tradition in capitalist societies—almost a myth in itself. Politicians and reality stars eclipsing writers in short bursts of fame and within the public’s short attention span emphasizes that art is profoundly devalued in contemporary society. 

“It was a writer’s house, with an ocean view and a deck with a steep staircase that took you straight down to the beach. All around was a tranquil wilderness: the coastal forest, the shoreline of shells and boulders, the damp thickets of ferns and moss, a few walking trails that ran alongside the beach. If you didn’t know civilization was only a few miles away, you might easily believe yourself to be at the end of the earth. It was also easy to imagine yourself an old writer here, producing masterpieces out on the deck, inspired by the tides and the light on the ocean.” 

The “end of the earth” landscape is a strong symbol for the isolation creativity needs to blossom. Epithets like “steep,” “tranquil,” and “damp” combined with their signifiers (especially the oxymoronic “tranquil wilderness”) are ambiguous and invite thoughts of both safety and risk—another metaphor for successful creative work. The view of the water expanse implies breadth of scope for thought and imagination, and the closeness of the beach offers the possibility of relaxation. The quote is a reminder of the inspired tension between focus and freedom.

“Harry was all I had in life, and, curiously, I didn’t need to know if he was guilty or not; that fact would not in any way alter our deep bond of friendship. It was a strange feeling: I think I would have liked to hate him, to spit in his face while the nation watched; that would have been simpler. But these events did not affect the feelings I had for him in the slightest. At worst, I thought, he is a man, and men have demons. Everyone has demons. The question is simply to know up to what point those demons can be tolerated.” 

Marcus’s relationship with Harry is complex. On the one hand, Harry is his mentor, his friend, and a father figure. On the other, he is a rival for Marcus, whose talent seems to eclipse his own.