The Diver’s Clothes Lie Empty – Vendela Vida. New York: Harper Collins, 2015.
You may know the feeling: You arrive in a foreign country after a long, uncomfortable flight. As you accept the complementary drink the flight attendant pours, you fantasize about the man seated across from you. Perhaps you will meet him for dinner one evening and compare notes over a refreshing drink in Rick’s Bar.
The fantasy disappears as you leave the plane, still half asleep from the sleeping table you swallowed with your second glass of wine. As you start the long walk to baggage claim, you feel jetlagged, disoriented, perhaps wonder what made this trip so appealing two months ago when you booked it. You look with judging eyes on a woman who seems unable to stop the shrieks of her child. All you want is deep sleep.
You arrive at your hotel, tip your driver in American dollars, and present your passport and a credit card to the front desk. You return these items to your carry-on. Your body aches for a cold drink, a warm shower and a comfortable bed. But when you reach down to pick up your carry-on, you realize the worse has happened: Your bag is gone – the bag containing your passport, your money, your phone, your camera and your computer. In short everything that contains your identity is now missing. You don’t even have the local currency to make a phone call.
What do you do?
This is the dilemma that begins The Diver’s Clothes Lie Empty, a what-if novel that traces the actions of an unnamed narrator who arrives in Casablanca and finds that in order to survive, she must reinvent herself. Written in second person (you), Vida takes the reader moment by moment through the nerve-wracking, suspense-laden thoughts and actions of the narrator. Like most travelers, the narrator first tries to go through proper channels (i.e. the police) to recover her stolen property. But when the chief of police declares the crime solved and, “like a blackjack dealer giving you his last card”, thrusts a bag with a passport of another woman into her arms, she realizes that “extreme circumstances require radical change.”
The narrator assumes this new identity and begins a Kafkaesque lifestyle of altered identities, first as the woman in the passport whose credit card affords her a much-needed hotel upgrade, then as a stand-in for a “famous American actress” who is filming on location in Casablanca, and later as a reporter following a political candidate deeper into Morocco. With each twist of the plot, the narrator reveals what has driven her from her home in Florida and made her so willing to embrace a new identity.
It is a deep secret, a sadness that propels her further and further into the harsh, unforgiven Moroccan landscape. And in her head are the constant cries of a baby and the deceptive eyes of her sister.
The book’s title comes from a Rumi poem about feeling both present and absent in life, being in the ocean while at the same time dressed in the clothes on the shore, feeling hunted and a hunter. The theme is underscored by the landscape – the blinding sunlight, the exotic scents, the crowded shops, the labyrinth streets, the staggering heat – producing a story that is both entertaining and disturbing.
My Wine Recommendation
Such an exotic book requires an equally exotic wine like the 2012 Ouled Thaleb Shrah from Morocco. This bright red has flavors of cherry and pomegranate with a luscious finish of orange zest. Wine experts give it high points for its balance of smoky, spicy and fruity notes. $16.