The Truth About The Harry Quebert Affair

As the title suggests, one of the main motifs in the novel is the concept of truth. The author poses important questions: is there only one Truth? What constitutes truth—is it one possible sequence of events, which have a clear cause and consequence, or can truth be composed of a multitude of perspectives, ideas, and versions? The progression of the novel offers possible answers, and Dicker makes it clear that not one of those answers is clear-cut.

The characters that are alive can speak their truth, but for various reasons, their versions of events often contain half-truths or lies. The author examines the motivations behind such decisions. David Kellergan lies about his daughter’s illness because he fears they will take her away from him. However, he is also afraid the truth of his wife’s death might come out, and he is complicit in it. Tamara Quinn hides the truth of her emotions because she lacks the courage to trust. Travis Dawn is a murderer and lies to protect himself, but he also cherishes the truth of his love for Jenny. The author shows us that all the characters have a complicated relationship with the truth, and motivation is never straightforward. The dead also have their truths, but for the most part someone has to speak for them, like Caleb’s sister and Elijah Stern for Caleb, or Harry and Nancy for Nola. To a certain extent, Dicker portrays the truth of the dead as unknowable, but by including flashbacks and letters, he gives us precious insight into Nola’s and Caleb’s feelings and actions.

Marcus’s third book bears the title The Truth About the Harry Quebert Affair, which is the title of the novel we are reading. Marcus is certain he has understood most of the truth hiding behind the many events of the past and present by the end of the novel, and at this point, he is able to produce the title that converges with the one we are reading: The truth has finally reached us. However imperfect, however much laced with big and little lies, this is the Truth of the story and its characters.

By choosing two writers to be his main characters, Dicker shows us not only the inner world of an artistic person but also what that person faces once he attempts to establish himself in the publishing industry. The very fact that this is an industry speaks about the process that transforms creative efforts into commercial commodities. The author utilizes characters like Marcus’s agent, Douglas Claren, and his publisher, Roy Barnaski, to illuminate how writing works from this other perspective, where art becomes a product.

While Douglas shows human kindness in collaborating with Marcus, he is still primarily concerned with guiding him to achieve his full productivity in order to comply with his publishing contract. Barnaski, on the other hand, proves to be interested only in the commercial value of real-life events and how best to use, or abuse, them to produce a book that will sell well. He clashes with Marcus on multiple occasions because he simply does not understand that Marcus’s impulse might be different from his own. Where Marcus sees veritable human suffering and finds a strong desire to help, Barnaski focuses on how lucrative the sensationalist part of the story will be. When he offers ghostwriters to Marcus in Chapter 27 and 9, he does not understand the moral issue the writer might have because he is focused on how to sell the new book. The author emphasizes this in the following lines from Barnaski:

I’ve invested a huge amount of money in this book, and the credibility of one of America’s biggest publishing companies is on the line […] if there’s no book because of you and your morals […] I’ll make damn sure the sharks eat you first (425).

He is not interested in the truth as a concept, although he is wary someone might sue the writer and publisher for libel.

Marcus Goldman strives to become a better writer—that is a big part of his character’s journey to become a better person. His desire for truth propels him into an investigation that will cost him dearly, and after one unsuccessful attempt, by the end of the novel he will reach his goal of writing a book that captures the truth he has found. However, Dicker makes it clear by using comic satire and cynicism that Barnaski pays for these books and publishes them only because they will earn money, and not because they attempt to hold up an image of the real world and analyze it. The somewhat jaded message seems to be that within the publishing world, artistic expression is incidental to assembling a bestselling product. 

At the heart of the novel is the love story between Harry Quebert and Nola Kellergan, intricately linked with its crime fiction plot but essential beyond the trappings of genre. At the instant of their first meeting, he witnesses her “barefoot by the ocean, her sandals in her hand, dancing in the rain and skipping in the waves. He watched her, wonderstruck […] He felt his heart pound […] he was smitten. It felt as if she had set fire to his soul” (73-74). Harry is 34 years old and Nola is a 15-year-old girl, mature for her age: “Nola had become a pretty young woman, with beautiful legs, full breasts, and the face of an angel” (153). The author positions the age difference between the love-struck characters as one of the key points in the development of the novel’s structure.

Harry, as an adult, feels tremendous guilt for falling in love with Nola, but at the same time, he feels helpless, especially when faced with her fierce determination to make their connection a reality. From the story’s perspective, it is necessary that his character be troubled by the fact that Nola is underage. Harry is the first to admit the inappropriateness of his feelings. The relationship between Harry and Nola is ostensibly not sexual, which may remove some of the sense of uneasiness within the reader. Furthermore, by depicting Nola as a young woman in all but age, the author emphasizes her agency, and in fact, it is at her insistence that Harry entertains the idea of eloping with her. This dynamic does not alter his responsibility as an adult, nor does it allay his guilt, but after Nola’s attempt at suicide, it becomes obvious that tradition and age difference do not intimidate her, as seen in the following passage: “‘Get down on your knees. Kneel down and ask me to forgive you.’ He knelt down, not thinking anymore, and placed his head on her bare knees. She leaned over him and caressed his face” (231).

However, Nola is a sick girl. She suffers from a psychiatric disorder, and it is questionable whether any of her actions are rational. In this sense, the author does not make it easy for the readers to judge the appropriateness of her behavior towards Harry, as we are aware she might be projecting onto Harry a love that she has missed from her father. Therefore, with Nola’s illness and her young age, the onus of making the right decision falls squarely upon Harry, and it is debatable whether he makes the right one. He seems to be acting from his own sense of loneliness, and the intensity of Nola’s feelings satisfies a profound need in him to be liked and appreciated. The author creates a strong sense that even without Nola’s death, the couple cannot consummate their love. Her death only emphasizes this point by robbing Nola of her agency.