First published in Great Britain in 2000; published by Picador on September 1, 2015
Charlie Fairburn has six months to live. He’s a writer and he’d like to write about his impending death, but death is depressing so his agent (who wants him to continue writing screenplays) tells him to write something upbeat. Instead, Charlie sells his house, moves into a hotel, and begins work on a novel called On the Train, snatches of which appear as A Clue to the Exit moves forward.
As every starving artist intuits and as Charlie soon learns, luxury inhibits ambition, so Charlie embarks on a course that will relieve him of the burden of wealth and inspire creativity. His quest takes him to a casino, where parties and a beautiful gambler interfere with his ability to solve “the riddle of consciousness” via the literary exploration of death.
At some point, the beautiful gambler asks him why he’s writing what he’s writing -- what the point of it is -- and it’s a question I was asking, as well. She wants Charlie to meet his death by writing a celebration of life. Instead, he’s writing a story in which pretentious characters discuss the philosophical implications of quantum physics. While the questions they ask are worth pondering -- from Charlie’s dying perspective, the question is how to live consciously -- I agree with the gambler that the story is dry and lifeless. But that’s probably the point. As Charlie provides a pedantic explanation of the novel’s goals and the techniques he is using to achieve them, it becomes all the more clear that Charlie really doesn’t know what he wants to say.
It takes a shocking amount of time for a guy with six months to live who loves but is estranged from his daughter to figure out what is important in his brief remaining life. He gains some other worthwhile insights (people should not hurt others to make themselves happy) but they are less than profound. He also arrives at the conclusion that “consciousness and experience are synonymous.” I take his meaning (I feel the sun warming my face, therefore I am) but the words really aren’t synonymous.
I think Charlie's ultimate realization is that life is a collection of experiences which, again, is hardly a momentous epiphany. His last great insight is “the thing that is closest to us is the most mysterious” which made me wonder when Charlie was going to get around to dying. Someone who is devoting the end of his life to deep thoughts might want to come up with something more meaningful. Or better yet, opt for hedonism, since he’s still young enough to enjoy it.
Near the end of the novel, Charlie goes on something like a vision quest that struck me as laughable. Maybe it was intended as humor. My greatest reservation about this novel is that, while some scenes are amusing, I can’t tell whether it is meant to be taken seriously. If so, I can’t. If not, too many scenes are pointless to justify reading it as a comedy. There is an abundance of good writing here, but it never adds up to much.
NOT RECOMMENDED