In the wake of a catastrophic storm, Cora sets off with her nine-year-old daughter, Maia, to register her son's birth. Her husband, Gordon, a local doctor, respected in the community but a terrifying and controlling presence at home, intends for her to name the infant after him. But when the registrar asks what she'd like to call the child, Cora hesitates... Spanning thirty-five years, what follows are three alternate and alternating versions of Cora's and her young son's lives, shaped by her choice of name.
The sort of novel that’s bound to create discussion about the events happening, what they mean and how they relate to one another. It has an ending that’s definitive but also leaves plenty of room for interpretation. And it is guaranteed to make readers reflect about their own lives ... Knapp [has a] gift for insightful, homespun metaphors ... A simple, seemingly unadorned style but insights...pop up frequently. Her choices reassure us that she understands people, which helps The Names transcend a premise that could come off as gimmicky.
A debut appearing with so much hype that early copies arrived here with descriptions of the book as a 'global publishing event' emblazoned on them. And for once, that doesn’t seem to be an exaggeration ... an unadulterated success: moving, evocative and utterly convincing ... it is remarkable how Knapp has managed to make us care equally about each strand of the child’s life ... What’s fascinating too are the things that stay the same in each version ... The depiction of an abusive marriage, for instance, is terrifyingly real ... The Names is not for everyone—at times, it teeters towards an ever so slightly cloying sentimentality ... But these are quibbles, to be skated over as you immerse yourself in Knapp’s picture-perfect set pieces and emotional realism ... I read The Names in a single afternoon, glued to the pages, occasionally wiping away a tear. It’s one of those books that will make you irritable with anyone who interrupts you, but which you’ll finish wanting to press into the hands of a friend. I can see the film adaptations, the book club meetings, the talk-show.
May well be the most devastating book you read this year ... It’s a straightforward idea that becomes complex as Knapp asks us to hold in our heads three concurrent yet totally different lives. And, because of the topic at hand, it’s immensely powerful ... The novel’s intricate structure is so clever because it lets us believe that what we do matters, only to be undercut by the reality of what it is to be in a relationship with an abuser: Gordon will abuse Cora regardless of her actions ... Knapp’s narrative is gentle when it needs to be, and tough elsewhere. There are evocative moments, but sometimes plain language is most impactful–and Knapp totally gets this, moving between the two with ease ... A wildly original and emotionally profound novel, and details from it have not stopped swimming around my head in the weeks since I finished it.
