Political lesson

Nathaniel Hawthorne once said that making a moral too obvious in a story was like pushing a pin through a butterfly — it takes away its life and makes it unnaturally stiff. Wish Mark Gimenez had read that before he wrote this book. If The Governor’s Wife had been written like a normal action thriller, it would have had about half the page count. As it stands, though, the book is part pageturner and part turgid fable about the inherent hollowness of American politics.

Let’s take the thriller part first. Bode and Lindsay Bonner are rich and living a comfortable life — too comfortable for Lindsay. After an argument with her husband, she runs away to an impoverished border slum, and begins assisting a doctor who runs a free clinic for the poor. An understated romance begins to develop between the doctor and the new assistant. In the meantime, Bode falls afoul of a Mexican druglord. The druglord finds out where Lindsay is, and attempts to kidnap her. Will he succeed? Will Bode come to save her? Will the doctor survive the histrionics that follow?

As I said, though, the book is not as easy to read as that. Bode is the Governor of Texas, which makes Lindsay the titular wife. He’s a Republican, forever ranting against the Democrats. Pages and pages of discussion about politicians’ daily lives follow, including meeting rich party donors and reading to schoolchildren. In fact, Gimenez does all he can to make Bonner unsympathetic — Bonner sneers at differing ideologies, leers at young women and has an affair with his secretary. As a politician, he is well liked by the rich industrialists of Texas, but hated by everyone else. Once in a while we find him brooding over how life was simpler when he was in college, and we want to shake him and tell him to grow up.

Besides giving us a blow-by-blow account of Bode’s life, Gimenez takes us to a Mexican-border refugee colony, where life is miserable and thugs have a free rein. Once more, pages go by describing how bad life is here, and how the big bad Americans are turning a blind eye to the suffering here. It is a bit of a relief when the action finally takes centre stage, but the reader is lost by then.

Pretty much all of the moralising feels drawn out and unnecessary. Worse, it goes directly against the spirit of the thriller genre. This is not to say that the book performs well on the other aspects thrillers are known for. The big action sequence at the climax belongs to an ‘80s Schwarzenegger movie instead of in a purportedly well-researched, socially-conscious thriller. And there is next-to-no character development for anyone. The one major change of heart towards the end of the book is telegraphed from a mile away and doesn’t do enough to make us care for the storyline.

I feel like most of the book’s failings are the fault of the editor, not the writer. Lindsay Bonner is referred to as the governor’s wife at least a couple hundred times in the book. The cover design is uninspired and generic. Considering all the references to Obama and the recent presidential elections, the publishers probably struggled to get this book done and out in the market to cash in on the public sentiment. If by any chance you didn’t know the party philosophies of the Democrats versus the Republicans, this book will make sure to beat it into you by force of repetition.

Mark Gimenez has been building his reputation writing legal thrillers — although this book isn’t one, it is based in his home state, Texas, and he makes full use of his knowledge of the current political sentiment there. The book might do better in the United States where these issues are closer to the citizens’ hearts. But it’s difficult to see it succeeding in the international market.

The Governor’s Wife might make a decent action movie (with the aforementioned Schwarzenegger in the lead), if handled by a good editor. Unfortunately, it’s too hastily produced and edited to work as a thriller.

The Governor’s Wife
Mark Gimenez
Sphere
2012, pp 560
350