Kathy Hamilton Creation Lake by Rachel Kushner opens unexpectedly: a philosophical detour into why Neanderthals were prone to depression and possibly the first to smoke. Weird? Yes. But it works, pulling you into a world where big ideas drive the action. It left me wondering, where do we go from here? Which, as it happens, is a question that sums up one of the central motifs of the book.
A Birthday Tradition and a Booker Shortlist Pick
But first, I want to share a personal anecdote with you. Every year, just before my birthday, the Booker Prize Shortlist is announced. I know this because, in what is fast becoming one of my favourite traditions, my partner selects a book he thinks might win as one of my gifts.
It’s a tradition that started by accident, I love to read and he likes to buy me a book for my birthday, and the Booker Prize was a natural fit. His criteria for choosing from the shortlist is two-fold – could it win and, more importantly, would Kathy like this?
This year he settled on Creation Lake by Rachel Kushner. A book described as ” a thrilling novel of ideas” by The Guardian, which feels apt. I love this little tradition because there’s something special about receiving a book as a gift from a loved one. As a bonus, this year, in my opinion, he’s picked a winner.
A Novel of Big Ideas Wrapped in a Spy Thriller
Creation Lake is a spy thriller that doesn’t just entertain—it makes you think. Rachel Kushner explores identity, philosophy, and the complexity of human motives, all within a high-stakes world of espionage. She asks the big questions like: Who are we? Why do we do what we do? Where have we come from? Such books are plentiful, but you very rarely find them wrapped up in the guise of a spy thriller!
Her protagonist, Sadie Smith, is a freelance spy sent to infiltrate a radical commune. She reads the emails of Bruno Lacombe, a troubled philosopher, and soon, his ideas start messing with her own sense of identity. What starts as a professional necessity soon becomes more personal, as Bruno’s existential musings on human identity seep into Sadie’s consciousness, threatening her carefully constructed detachment.
“We’ve ceased to locate ourselves in a larger system, a grand design. We’ve cut the rope, my children.”
As Sadie voyeuristically reads Bruno’s emails, she becomes drawn into his treatises on human identity. Without even realising it, what begins as a necessity soon becomes something more. She finds herself enticed by his ideas, and slowly Bruno’s thoughts start to seep into her consciousness.
On the one hand, the spy narrative moves with the pace and tension you would expect. On the other hand, Sadie’s growing obsession with these existential questions adds a deeper layer to the story. This dynamic makes the book stand out in a genre that typically favours action over introspection.
The Cynical Protagonist: Trust No One
In most spy novels we are given a sense that, despite the shady dealings or downright criminal activities of the protagonist, they are (at least on some level) working towards a common good. Thwarting an international crime syndicate. Saving the world from cyber hackers. You know the drill.
But with Sadie Smith (pseudonym), I’m not so sure. Working as a freelance undercover agent erodes this sense of working for a higher purpose. She’s working for whichever organisation agrees to pay her the most. Government agencies, big corporations, it doesn’t really matter.
As the novel progresses, there’s a growing sense that she’s not really there to uncover anything. Instead, there’s a good chance she’s being sent to create an outcome that her employer wants.
“People might claim to believe in this or that, but in the four a.m. version of themselves, most possess no fixed idea on how society should be organized. When people face themselves, alone, […], those things fall away.”
Sadie prides herself on her lack of concern for her “victims”. It’s nothing personal, she tells us, it’s the job. But even so, Bruno’s emails start to destabilise this carefully crafted detachment. While she claims to be unaffected by her world, we see that the toll it takes. She can’t sleep without a Prozac and she drinks until she feels numbed.
But it’s not just Bruno’s emails that reveal hidden glimpses of the real Sadie. Despite every relationship Sadie has being fake, her connection to Vito feels real. In this tangled web, his messages offer her release. Despite knowing she will ultimately betray his trust, just as she has with countless others. His friendship offers a way for her to momentarily forget her moral ambiguity. Better to be a gold digger than what she really is after all!
A Philosophical Thriller
Through these connections, we witness the slow unravelling of Sadie’s carefully constructed identity. She might tell herself it’s all part of the job, but it becomes increasingly clear that this time is different.
What’s remarkable about Creation Lake is how it balances its philosophical ambitions with the tensions of a thriller. Just as Sadie is swept up in her existential musings, the plot hurtles forward with the kind of urgency you would expect in a spy novel. The difference here is that Sadie is ever in danger of losing control.
It becomes clear that her confidence may be misplaced. In the world of the far-left commune “Les Moulins” that she has been sent to infiltrate, they may have been on to her all along. How do you build trust with people whose own machinations are as murky as your own?
Here betrayal isn’t just a plot device, it’s a moral and personal reckoning for Sadie. As a reader, the suspense is heightened because we realise this isn’t just about the success of the mission. But Sadie’s very sense of self.
The result is a gripping narrative that draws you in, just as it beguiles you. Always returning to the core questions. Who are we? Why do we do what we do? Where have we come from?
Could Creation Lake by Rachel Kushner win the Booker Prize 2024?
If you like your thrillers with a side of philosophy, pick this one up. It’s smart, sharp, and will keep you guessing—not just about the plot, but about what it means to be human.
What sets Creation Lake apart isn’t just the plot twists. It’s the way Kushner uses the spy genre to ask big questions. Sadie’s unravelling is a slow burn, and you can’t help but watch as her false identities collide. She’s an enigma, deliberately so. Kushner uses the motif of false identity to probe deeper into what identity means. If we can be anyone, which version of ourselves is most authentic?
While Creation Lake may not fit the mould of a traditional Booker Prize winner, its intellectual daring and genre-defying narrative could set it apart in a field often dominated by more conventional literary works. Whether it wins or not, I can chalk this up as another win for the Birthday tradition!
If you’d like to read Creation Lake by Rachel you can pick up a copy here(bookshop) or here (Amazon)
