A Review of Gretchen Berg’s “The Operator”
Dial G for Gossip
It has been said that diamonds are a girl’s best friend, but I have to wonder if it’s really gossip, instead. Don’t get me wrong, I try not to be a misogynist — but women seem to sure like to talk, and, usually, it’s about other people. Gossip is at the heart of Gretchen Berg’s somewhat whimsical debut novel, The Operator, as it deals with the very big impacts a seemingly trivial piece of gossip can have on families and personal lives. The book — according to the author’s note at the back — is loosely based on the life of Berg’s grandmother, though some details have been grossly fictionalized. You can tell that this is an intensely personal book for the author to write, as though the mere act of writing it might have had a therapeutic effect on understanding the generations that came before her. That might be key because the piece of gossip that is at the centre of this story may strike some modern-day readers as being a bit quaint. That’s all I’ll say about that, as I don’t want to give anything away and spoil the surprise.
Essentially, this is the story of one Vivian Dalton — though alternating chapters are told from other characters’ points of view — who works as a switchboard operator in the small town of Wooster, Ohio — a real-life place — during the early 1950s. Though Vivian and her co-workers aren’t supposed to listen in on the phone conversations they connect, they do so anyway. One day, as Vivian is listening to a phone call, a piece of gossip about her own family is revealed, seeking to crumble the façade of Vivian’s life. It takes about half of the book before the reader is brought into what that gossip is, but, in a 1950s small town in America, it probably was as powerful as a match being dropped into a pool of gasoline.
I’m going to come out and admit that this book probably wasn’t meant for me, as I’m a male. This is essentially a woman’s book of fiction. So what am I doing reading and reviewing it? Well, I was drawn to the premise that involved something as quaint as involving switchboard operators and the setting of this period piece. (In fact, it’s hinted in the novel that progress is making its way to Wooster and automated rotary phones might do away with Vivian’s job.) The setting of the dying days of an occupation enthralled me, and — while Berg notes in her author’s note that some of the details are factually incorrect to suit the needs of the story (or her own personal whims) — it’s enjoyable to read of a much simpler time when bag boys carried your groceries for you to the car and gas station attendants filled your tank up.
However, as pleasurable as this debut may be, it does have its share of issues. For one, I wasn’t overly enamoured by the character of Vivian Dalton. Not only does she enjoy eavesdropping, but she also strikes this male reader as a tad bit immature. If this is a fictional portrayal of Berg’s grandmother, it isn’t a very flattering one. Vivian has the annoying habit of quoting old child’s nursery rhymes sometimes incorrectly, and when she isn’t acting like a spoiled brat, she is usually angry and frustrated — and to read about a character who goes about screaming into pillows and such is not very appealing. Also, Vivian is of a lower class in the Wooster sphere of influence, which makes her the subject of scandalous gossip a little perplexing. The person who spreads the gossip is a woman who is the daughter of the town’s mayor. Why she would even concern herself with such a “little person” is not really made clear in the text. What longstanding grievance does this person have to go about destroying someone beneath her station? I’ve read the novel, and I can’t tell you that.
Cooks and bakers, though, will get a thrill out of this book as some of the chapters feature recipes for fruitcake and cookies — all pulled from the author’s grandmother’s notes or index cards. (Berg claims in the note at the back of the book that she even left in typos intentionally). I’ve seen this sort of thing done in non-fiction — Jen Hatmaker, I’m looking at you — but it felt quite novel to have a narrative interrupted for a dessert recipe in the middle of a fictional read. Berg also intersperses some of her grandmother’s (kinda bad) poetry, too. To that end, The Operator can feel a little experimental, even if it has something of a traditional narrative arc. For the most part, I appreciated the diversion and wished I was abler in the kitchen as there was the odd cookie recipe or two I was interested in trying out on my own! I may be a manly man, but you can’t say that I don’t have a feminine side. (Though, since I read this book on my Kindle as an advancer, it would be a bit tricky to bring my device into the kitchen with me without getting dough and flour all over it.)
What would I say about The Operator? I would say that, even with some first novel jitterbugs, the end result is a little satisfying. Even though I’m probably not in the marketing demographic for this book — I would imagine that this is something my sixty-year-old-plus mother would enjoy reading due to the time setting — I generally liked the book, notwithstanding my earlier comment about Vivian being an annoying character. It’s usually well written — though it was a bit tricky at the start of the read to keep characters straight (Vivian has a big family) — and I thought the author did an admirable job of making the setting feel real, even if a few factual details were deliberately miffed. To that end, if you like juicy gossip and peering into the lives of others, The Operator is a commendable read. It may be strong enough for a man, but, to tell you the truth, it’s, in the end, made for a woman, which is all you probably need to know.
Gretchen Berg’s The Operator will be published by William Morrow on March 10, 2020.
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Get in touch: zacharyhoule@rogers.com
