I’m probably going to be in the minority, but I’m going to recommend Herman Koch’s The Dinner for those readers who do not require pleasant romance or drama securely tied up with satisfying endings. Not to say that there’s anything wrong with reading books like that – they are usually good fun, and often enriching. 

However, I love to look beyond the typical, and often seek out eclectic literature selections. This book will appeal most to those who enjoy thoughtful, chilling stories that don’t necessarily have likable characters and that don’t forward any truly uplifting storylines. In other words, after you finish reading The Dinner, you might feel slightly ill or walk about for a few hours in disbelief. And that, to me, is the hallmark of good writing. This book reminds me of when my middle son was reading The Kite Runner (Hosseini) when he was a high school senior. He was angry at the characters, and when he verbalized this to me I told him that he’d just read an exemplary novel in that it generated emotions in him. As another example, if you read Gone Girl (Flynn) and thought to yourself: those characters were awful people and I didn't like them at all, then you may not want to spend your valuable time reading this novel. If you got a kick out of Gone Girl and its depictions of amorality, then you may truly enjoy Koch's novel.

The Dinner takes place over a single evening, as two Dutch brothers – up and coming politician Serge and his brother Paul (dining with their respective spouses Babette and Claire) have both superficial and serious discussion over several courses of a meal served at a chi chi dining establishment. The author neatly skewers all the topical events currently discussed in today’s society (organic food, politics, preferred parenting methods, films, youth violence, racism, teaching pedagogies, etc.) while also slowly revealing the true characters that inhabit the diners.

The narrator of this novel is Paul, and I was reminded of the act of peeling an onion as he slowly revealed himself throughout the meal. Because each course of their dinner is interrupted by the overbearing, fluffy waiter who eagerly describes how every food item is carefully obtained and prepared, the reader is forced to wait for Paul’s next revelation, allowing the story to progress. This is clever writing, and it works really well for this type of storytelling.

Essentially, Paul and his brother Serge have come together to discuss a sickening crime that their 15-year-old sons are involved in, but they spend a lot of time working their way around the true events, and instead focusing on artificial matters. As the dinner unfolds, you learn much more about Paul and Claire, their strange relationship, and the love they have for their son Michel. When you come to the story’s ending, you will most likely be shocked by what has transpired, especially when you consider the initial impressions created by Paul and Claire as they prepared for their outing that night.

So, I wouldn’t call this a pleasant read. But it is gripping and intelligent, and I know that I’ll remember it for a long time. Actress Cate Blanchett is reported to be directing an American version of the novel. When it is made into a film here, I see the need for actors who can expertly emote via minute facial expressions and body language. If you check out Goodreads, you’ll see that people either seem to be fascinated by this quirky book, or to feel repelled and even angry upon finishing reading. Put me in the middle, but more closely on the “fascination” end of the continuum. If nothing else, this book is a creepy study in psychology, familial bonds, and why we make the choices we make. If you want to take your uncomfortable feelings a step further, think about your own family and neighbors and wonder for a moment about unsettling, hidden motivations that may never bubble the surface…until it is too late.