Incipit

It's hard for me to write about this book without mentioning the (probably) better-known movie, since I'd already seen the movie before reading the book. I don't mean this to be a straight comparison of the two, but that aspect will definitely be part of this review. Both the novel and the film share many commonalities, but it is the myriad differences that make them stand on their own. If you’ve only seen the movie, you should read the book. If you’ve only read the book, you should see the movie. Let me put it this way: I was still surprised by the twists found in the novel even after I’d seen the film three or four times.

The differences are readily apparent. The book begins in the present day with the first-person narrative of Andrew Westley, a young reporter on his way to investigate an incident at a religious sect. He meets a young woman named Kate Angier, who believes the fate of Andrew’s brother is somehow tied to events that occurred a hundred years earlier to Kate’s ancestor, Rupert Angier (a stage-magician known as The Great Danton), and Angier’s lifelong rival, Alfred Borden. A book of magic written by Borden as well as Rupert Angier’s private journal make up the bulk of the narrative.

The origin of the feud between Borden and Angier is much different than what we see in the film, and I found the way Priest escalates the hostilities between the two illusionists to be much more organic. It is more fleshed out and I found my sympathies bounced back and forth between Borden and Angier. Indeed, with each magician in effect telling his own story, you really get to see each side of the feud. Each character’s positive and negative traits are given equal weight, and so it becomes increasingly difficult to view either man as the story's villain. In fact, it often seems like neither man is particularly interested in continuing the feud, and if one had just had the courage to reconcile with the other, a much different outcome would have unfolded. (This idea is actually made explicit when it is paralleled by some of the present-day characters.) As haunting as the film’s conclusion may be, the novel’s ending is even more so.

If you think you know where the novel is going, you probably don’t. And even if you do, the narrative thrust and absorbing prose make the journey worthwhile.

The novel was nominated for the Arthur C. Clarke Award (1996), the British Fantasy Award (1995), and won the James Tait Black Memorial Prize (1996) and the World Fantasy Award (1996). I guess what I’m saying is it’s got a pedigree. And, in my opinion, it is well deserved. It’s fair to say that, like the film, the novel is itself a magic trick of sorts, relying on the pledge, turn and prestige. It has its own literary tricks (sentences in Borden’s book like “If I say no more of this, it will be acceptable. I shall not intervene again. I may continue to the conclusion.”) in place of the film’s visual hints, and while it doesn’t have the same overall impact as the film (understandable, given the differences between the two mediums), it definitely has its moments. After reading the 10 lines that make up chapter 14 of Part II (“I say, ‘Look at my hands. There is nothing concealed within them.’ ”) I had the same goosebumps I felt when I first heard Christian Bale whisper, “Are you watching closely?”

Often when a novel is adapted to film, there is a tendency to prefer one over the other. Usually the book, because the book is always better (. . . right?). With The Prestige, however, both the novel and the film were made by hugely talented people (as opposed to some bestselling books that get turned into blockbuster movies . . . I’m sure you can fill in your own blank), and while both tell essentially the same story, they do so in drastically different ways -- ways that could only be accomplished in their respective mediums. After reading this excellent book, I not only have a new appreciation for it and its adaptation, but for the art of a well-told story in general. I find it fascinating that a single story can be told in two different mediums and remain similar yet distinct . . . but since duality is at the core of The Prestige, maybe that is to be expected.