“Duplicity, or she’d rather call it storytelling, is her sole realm of inspiration, the entire basis for her mistaken belief she can act.”
“Therapy can seem like revision of memory. It can seem like you’re saving your life by destroying your story and writing a new one.”
“That whole thing about fiction not being the truth is a lie.”
Trust Exercise starts in 1982 in a southern city that is probably Houston, although it is never stated. The book is divided into three sections, the first two containing alternate versions of the same story. The third section, which is a short conclusion, leaves the reader wondering whether all of the dots have been connected properly. Sarah is the narrator of the first part of this novel, and although she is presumably omniscient, we learn that Sarah’s version of the story leaves lots of room for interpretation. It turns out that part one is a story within a story, a fictional book written by Sarah. Her high school best friend’s view, the second part of the book, makes us wonder about much of what Sarah has described and fills in some disturbing plot points.
Sarah, David, Karen, and a host of other characters are sophomores at CAPA, the Citywide Academy for Performing Arts, an elite high school for students serious about acting. Mr. Kingsley, their drama teacher, is eccentric, charismatic, nurturing, and gay. The students are enamored with him and realize that they must impress Mr. Kingsley and stay in his good graces if they hope to land roles in the performances and graduate high school as bona fide actors. His teaching style is not conventional and a little ruthless. His many trust exercises, which is one aspect of the title’s significance, force his young students into uncomfortable and sometimes humiliating positions. It seems that as a passionate actor, he wants his impressionable students to realize that they are always playing roles, and there is a fine line between real life and acting. However, he has boundary issues, gets overly involved in his students’ personal lives, and abuses his power as a teacher. He is a predator, and since he has gained his students’ trust through intense and impactful teaching exercises, his actions lead to serious damage to the psyches of his young charges.
The novel’s structure is unusual and leaves the reader with an incomplete picture of what transpired during the high school years of Sarah, David, and Karen. Through some of the events in the second part of the story, readers will wonder how many different people Sarah based her main characters’ experiences. Regardless of “who was who,” there are strong themes throughout the book that are so apropos for modern times. More than one teacher engages in sexual activity with students and violates the trust associated with teaching positions. While reading, one must consider whether teenagers should trust their teachers to protect and guide them. The parental role in trusting teachers is explored, and when families and schools might consider youngsters old enough to make critical decisions. According to law, those under eighteen years of age are still children. Even though some teenagers are mature and are playing adult roles at work and school activities, such as theater, one has to wonder when to preserve childhood innocence. As the title suggests, exercising trust is not simple.
Additionally, Susan Choi’s story has much to say about friendships, not only during high school but also how those relationships forever affect our memories. She examines the concepts of memory and obsession, and the reader becomes painfully aware of how the same memories are viewed differently by an assortment of influencers in life. The betrayals experienced early in human development have the power to influence adult lifestyle choices. Predation, described from numerous angles, is the dark side of this book and is an element of culture that is not always recognized for what it is.
