And with less than 10% of the book to go, I am still very much enjoying Trust, the novel by Hernan Diaz that is in fact four separate documents, each with its own unique author, or at least so we are led to believe when the final section begins. I’m at the stage of a novel I’m really enjoying where I find myself reading it more and more slowly. This process isn’t downright asymptotic; I will eventually succumb to the gravity of narrative, as well as to the desire to move on to another novel (or, more likely, to Diaz’s study of Jorge Luis Borges, a book I’ve already started, despite the promise I made myself to read no more than three books at a time). I wondered if mentioning here the identity of the author of this fourth section of Trust would be a spoiler, and then I noticed that it — she — is named right there on the book’s table of contents, which made me wonder what else Diaz is hiding in plain sight. I’ll know more — or less, given the Borgesian mode — in, say, 10%. Either way, all that matters at this stage if you haven’t read the book is that the person whose journals we’re reading here may or may not have been the wife of a real or fictional investor and may or may not have been a major benefactor of avant-garde composers. We’ve been led to believe she was either a dilettante-ish cultural supporter in socialite-philanthropist mode, or a deeply embedded urban aesthete who helped shape the lives and work of composers, among other artists, much as her financier husband directed the markets. This bit is early on in the woman’s journals, so who knows where it will head, but it clearly supports the latter narrative. I’ll find out soon — but not too soon.