Intuition by Allegra Goodman

Allegra Goodman has a talent for describing her characters. In Intuition, her fifth novel, Goodman introduces the reader to character after character, eventually building a network of people so real and familiar that you feel like a distant cousin to half of them.

This is, indeed, quite a gift. Perhaps taking her cues from Tolkien's Lord of the Rings books, or perhaps from the more recent Harry Potter works of J.K. Rowling, Goodman has learned that today's reading culture loves character development. And she delivers.

Along the way, the tale of a Harvard Square research lab and the quest within for discovery, even greatness, unfolds in a mostly satisfying read. Her story is well-researched and utterly believable, at times invoking textbook-like language that begs clarification (which she usually, and cleverly, provides).

Cliff Bannaker is a post-doctoral researcher in the lab run by Sandy Glass and Marion Mendelssohn. At first aloof and increasingly disinterested in his work, Cliff's project suddenly hits a breakthrough that opens doors for he and the rest of the lab's scientists.

Everyone in the lab is excited and drawn into the fervor of Cliff's research-- everyone, that is, except Robin. While Cliff and Robin are romantically involved at the beginning of the story, their relationship becomes strained as Robin starts to suspect that Cliff's research results are not completely above-board.

[Those of you who believe I have tainted the pleasure of the story will find, as I did, that the summary I provided above is little different from the teaser on the dust-jacket.]

While Goodman's story-telling is more than adequate, her characters are the real delight of this book, as I mentioned before. Consider this description of Sandy Glass from early in the novel:

"He was debating some point with Marion, and his blue eyes sparkled as his hands sliced the air. Ann's husband was not a handsome man. His features were coarse, his mouth wide, his forehead the more prominent because he had so little hair left. His nose began well, but drooped at the end. His cheeks were red with rosacea. With Sandy, however, the rules of attraction did not apply. He had a quality that wen much farther than youth or beauty-- an irresistible liveliness that seemed to override cynicism and doubt, a self-confidence occasionally unbearable, but in many cases deeply reassuring. Had he not enjoyed the benefit of a medical education, it's doubtless Sandy would have been an extraordinary salesman like his father, Irving. Shoes, hardware, large appliances, and Israel bonds would have flown like doves from his hands. As it happened, Sandy's sparkling savoir faire made him a stellar oncologist. He radiated hope to every patient. Instead of death, he dwelt on baseball games and the Boston Marathon. He asked terminally ill investment bankers about the stock market; joked that they should give him tips. He focused on the day-to-day, never on the eternal, and his patients loved him for it. He wasn't going to give up on them and turn spiritual. He was an old-fashioned doctor, fighting tooth and nail against disease. Patients came to him from all over the world. Tycoons and Saudi princes, even other doctors. His overworked residents called him a VIP-ologist, and there was some truth to this. Still, no one could deny his gifts. No one played the end game against cancer as Sandy did. He set himself squarely against every cancerous cell, and so inspired his patients into battle that, magically, even the most sophisticated believed that he could never fail them. Their worry was that in dying the might fail him."

Indeed, the most glaring shortcoming of Goodman's novel is that at times there are too many characters whose details and lives we are introduced to. Besides Cliff, Robin, Sandy, and Marion, we come to know a host of others-- family members, fellow post-docs, lab techs, and several more loosely-connected souls. Eventually, I tired of the constant introduction to new characters-- particularly since it was unclear to what extent they would ever fit into the story.

(In Goodman's defense here, though her character development reminded me of Rowling's Harry Potter characters, Goodman does connect every character to the story in a meaningful way, unlike Rowling, who could cut a third of her cast without damage.)

Also, for a story centered on the questionable ethics of a research lab, the ethical conclusions were at times quite disappointing. I'm not sure that the end-- ethical justice-- was clearly in view throughout the writing of this novel, given the occasional softness of ethical standards.

However, the ethical weaknesses, and the breadth of the supporting cast, were the only substantial critiques I could find. Intuition is a fun and engaging novel that will intrigue most readers.