Having read Smith’s On Beauty — hands down the best book I read in 2009 — I had high hopes for White Teeth. Probably too high. It was my pick (my one and only this year) for my book club, and it was rambling and exhaustive and brilliant. I had to keep myself reading even though at times I very badly wanted to put it down. Very badly. So badly, in fact, that I was apologizing to the other women in my book group and lamenting that I hadn’t chosen a more likable book.
But it’s not really a bad book. (I’m sure you’re like, what the h*ll is she talking about? Is it good or bad?) It’s just overly ambitious. I haven’t had much time to process it yet — and book group meets tomorrow! — but I think it attempts but doesn’t quite execute all the things that On Beauty did effortlessly. It took Zadie Smith three tries to get it right (though that’s probably not fair, as I haven’t read her second novel The Autograph Man). If my two cents count, I suggest you skip White Teeth and move right on to On Beauty.