Point taken. Claire is a traveling saleswoman whose son died a few years back and who has suddenly found she can’t stand the thought of going home again. “Layover” follows Claire for weeks as she sneaks and cons her way into hotel rooms around the country and spends the night for free, stripping away her identity, ranting, lying, pretending to be a cardiothoracic surgeon, dodging her apoplectic husband who is a cardiothoracic surgeon and doing whatever she can to exorcise her grief.
Early on, you read “Layover” as if it’s a thriller. You want to know how Claire snags those hotel rooms, and you’re on edge for the moment she gets caught. (In her acknowledgments, Zeidner thanks “members of the security staffs at the Four Seasons Hotel in Philadelphia and the Westin William Penn Hotel in Pittsburgh, who have asked to remain anonymous.”) But “Layover” gradually metamorphoses into a much deeper sort of novel about marriage, pain and the fantasy of flight.
Zeidner’s book–particularly the way Claire wisecracks in the face of fear–calls to mind Lorrie Moore’s stunning story “People Like That Are the Only People Here,” though it’s hard to imagine Moore writing so graphically about the messy, unmade beds that are sex and love. The novel’s also reminiscent of John Updike in its pitiless assessment of everyone’s defenses and delusions. Ultimately, though, Zeidner is an affirmative writer who makes you care about Claire even as she careers out of control. Our heroine is so manic for so much of the novel that you know she’ll eventually have to come down. Every step of the way, you wish her nothing but a safe landing.
