'Trust' by Hernan Diaz
'Generosity is the mother of ingratitude.'—Review #210
I had been looking forward to reading Hernan Diaz’s novel ‘Trust’ since it was published last year. But I waited to grab it until it came out in paperback, which it did last month. In that time, it was longlisted for the Booker Prize and won the Pulitzer Prize. Diaz’s previous novel, ‘In the Distance,’ is one of my favorite books from the last seven years, and I hoped the accolades for ‘Trust’ meant I would enjoy it as much. I’m happy to say I did. I loved it.
Here’s the cover:
‘Trust’ is composed of four works of fiction—a novel, an unfinished memoir, a memoir about that memoir and a diary. In a Q&A with the New York Times Book Review, Diaz calls this a ‘polyphonic’ structure. I had to look that word up to learn it’s a musical term meaning ‘having two or more voices or parts, each with an independent melody, but all harmonizing.’ I was like:
The opening section, a 1930s novel called ‘Bonds,’ is about Benjamin Rask, a reclusive and socially awkward Wall Street tycoon whose peerless business acumen and mathematical genius have made him unimaginably wealthy. Rask’s wife, Helen, comes from a down-on-their-luck, old-money family that decamped to Europe for years until World War I and her father’s descent into madness forced them back to New York. Rask can do no wrong financially, even coming out ahead following the great stock market crash of 1929. Helen, meanwhile, is a philanthropist and ardent supporter of the arts, particularly music. Eventually, the madness that consumed her father takes its toll on her as well. In the subsequent ‘nonfiction’ sections, we learn more about the origin of ‘Bonds’ and the ‘real’ people behind Benjamin and Helen. I don’t want to give anything else away because one of the joys of reading this book is being surprised by how it unfolds and coheres among the divergent sections. Trust me:
‘Trust’ explores and explodes the myths of wealth, particularly the one about the self-made man, and shows that the key to financial success is often less individual genius, and more having a few lucky breaks and access to grandpa’s money. Also glossed over in those fiscal myths, as Diaz points out, is how financial wizardry often has its origins in profiting off slave labor and is perpetuated by the chiseling of working people. I like how Italian anarchists, like Sacco and Vanzetti, are name-checked, as well as the inclusion of various philosophical critiques of capitalism and money. I’ll be thinking for a while about the concept of money as freedom (as in, the more money you have the freer you are) and as the commodity by which all others are defined. A god-like commodity. And I’ll also be thinking about how ‘Trust’ affirmed several of my kooky financial beliefs, including the one about how market forces aren’t real and that the only ‘invisible hand’ at work in the economy is the collection of moods and whims of people with money driving prices up for the rest of us. And, lastly and randomly, this book’s title and it’s focus on a man convinced he reached the heights of wealth all on his own got this scene from ‘Scarface’ stuck in my head, where Tony’s in the big bathtub going:
‘Trust’ is a wonderful book. I was entertained, outraged and enlightened—I can’t recommend it enough. I flew through it, even during a second bout of Covid, and it’s jumped to the top of the list of best books I’ve read this year. If you’re looking for a good read, care about (or loathe) finance, or are missing the shenanigans of rich people now that ‘Succession’ is over, you should read this book.
How it begins:
Because he had enjoyed almost every advantage since birth, one of the few privileges denied to Benjamin Rask was that of a heroic rise: his was not a story of resilience and perseverance or the tale of an unbreakable will forging a golden destiny for itself out of little more than dross. According to the back of the Rask family Bible, in 1662 his father’s ancestors had migrated from Copenhagen to Glasgow, where they started trading in tobacco from the Colonies. Over the next century, their business prospered and expanded to the extent that part of the family moved to America so they could better oversee their suppliers and control every aspect of production. Three generation’s later, Benjamin’s father, Solomon, bought out all his relatives and outside investors. Under his sole direction, the company kept flourishing, and it did not take him long to become one of the most prominent tobacco traders on the Eastern Seaboard. It may have been true that his inventory was sourced from the finest providers on the continent, but more than in the quality of his merchandise, the key to Solomon’s success lay in his ability to exploit an obvious fact: there was, of course, an epicurean side to tobacco, but most men smoked so that they could talk to other men. Solomon Rask was, therefore, a purveyor not only of the finest cigars, cigarillos, and pipe blends but also (and mostly) of excellent conversation and political connections. He rose to the pinnacle of his business and secured his place there thanks to his gregariousness and the friendships cultivated in the smoking room, where he was often seen sharing one of his figurados with some of his most distinguished customers, among whom he counted Grover Cleveland, William Zachary Irving, and John Pierpont Morgan.
At the height of his success, Solomon had a townhouse built on West 17th Street, which was finished just in time for Benjamin’s birth. Yet Solomon was seldom to be seen at the New York family residence. His work took him from one plantation to another, and he was always supervising rolling rooms or visiting business associates in Virginia, North Carolina, and the Caribbean. He even owned a small hacienda in Cuba, where he passed the greater part of each winter. Rumors concerning his life on the island established his reputation as an adventurer with a taste for the exotic, which was an asset in his line of business.
Who they thanked:
Diaz thanked various institutions, like the New York Public Library and Yaddo, as well as family, friends and early readers for supporting his work on this book.
My rating:
‘Trust’ by Hernan Diaz was published by Riverhead Books in 2022 and 2023. 402 pages. $15.81 at Bookshop.org.
What’s next:
Before you go:
ICYMI: Review #209
Read this: I was obsessed with The White Stripes back in the day. I still love their albums and listen to them all the time. I saw them in concert twice, once on Coney Island and once at Madison Square Garden. That MSG show was one of the best concerts I’d ever seen. And I loved Meg White, the shy and amazing drummer for the band. Shortly after that MSG show more than a decade ago, she disappeared from public life, and every so often I’d wonder what happened to her. ‘Searching for Meg White’ by Melissa Giannini in Elle attempts to track her down. It’s a good read about music of the early 2000s, the stresses of fame and the very relatable desire to be left alone.
Hear this: I’m looking forward to listening to this interview with Edwin Frank, editorial director of NYRB Classics, on the Unburied Books podcast. I’m eager to learn about how the NYRB selects the books it publishes. Here’s hoping that they’ll bring Ann Rower’s ‘Lee & Elaine’ back into print!
If you enjoyed this review:
Thanks for reading, and thanks especially to Donna for editing this newsletter!
Until next time,
MPV
In the Distance is my current read. I am so in love with the book that I had to go down the rabbit hole of my google chrome history to figure out who recommended it to me. Thank you for writing about it in the Dense Discovery newsletter. I will be reading more of your recommendations in the future.
Yayyy. I'm so glad you liked it. I also love the phrase "polyphonic novel."