The Best of Adam Sharp by Graeme Simsion

First published in the UK in 2017; published by St. Martin's Press on May 2, 2017

The publisher classifies this as women’s fiction and, not being a woman, I would have given it a pass except for my enjoyment of Graeme Simsion’s two Rosie novels. The Best of Adam Sharp isn’t anything like the Rosie novels, which might trouble readers who expect an author to keep writing the same book over and over (as many successful authors do). On the other hand, since the Rosie novels were hilarious and this one is only slightly amusing and only moderately interesting, it’s difficult not to make a comparison and find Adam Sharp wanting.

Adam is pushing past the boundaries of middle age but not yet a senior citizen. His partnership with Claire is at the friendship stage, passion having fled long ago. So when Adam gets an email from Angelina, more than 20 years after he last saw her, he wonders if it might change the world. That seems unlikely, since the email says “Hi” and nothing else.

The first half of the novel is largely the story of Adam and Angelina — how they met, how Adam met Angelina’s husband (a total jerk, of course), why their relationship failed — with occasional returns to the present, in the form of an email or instant message. Of course, Adam and Angelina are both in new relationships, but they are apparently reaching out to each other in search of the spark that their lives are missing.

The first half is familiar, even a bit ordinary. It occasionally relies on cliché (Adam and Angelina tell each other “the story of us,” a phrase and concept that has been seriously overused). Fortunately, a respectable amount of character development adds some freshness to a tired plot. Still, for all his charm — he plays the piano and sings and he’s considerate and respectful, who wouldn’t love the guy? — Adam is more a fantasy male than a real one. He’s too perfect, too sensitive to needs of the women he adores, too willing to adore them at the drop of a hat. And too willing to recognize his faults and change them, which as we all know, is the sort of good intention that guys manage to make good on for about two weeks before reverting to their true selves.

The second half, told in the present, is more interesting, even a bit daring at times, but the story is told in such a dispassionate, detached voice that I found it hard to make an emotional investment in Adam’s evolving life. The second half offers more insight into the characters, but not enough to make me care much about them. That’s an issue that can be overcome with a fascinating story or scintillating prose, but neither of those are present here. There are also several sex scenes that are too clichéd to be anything other than dull. The ending is safe, and in that sense predictable.

Putting aside everything else, the book is a tribute to the power of music, and I enjoyed reading about songs I love and a couple that I listened to for the first time after Adam mentioned them. There’s even a playlist at the end of the book, heavily weighted to 1960s artists, which explains my familiarity with most of the songs. That isn’t enough to save the novel, but it is enough to boost it toward a very cautious recommendation.

RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS