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By now, I should know better. When I first picked up Gabrielle Zevin's new novel, “Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow,” I doubted I would stick with it. After all, it's about two childhood friends who become legendary names in the world of video game design. 

I'm not a "gamer"; I know as much about expansion packs or terms like "adaptive tile refresh" as I do about harpooning a whale. You see where this is going. Because, whatever its subject, when a novel is powerful enough, it transports us readers deep into worlds not our own. That's true of “Moby Dick,” and it's certainly true of “Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow,” which renders the process of designing a great video game as enthralling as the pursuit of that great white whale.

Zevin's main characters, Sam Masur and Sadie Green, first meet in the game room of a children's hospital in Los Angeles when they're around 11 years old. Sadie is there because her sister has cancer; Sam has been in a horrific car accident, which killed his mother and crushed his left foot. Almost silently, they bond over the Super Mario Bros. game Sam has been playing. 

Because Sam has been emotionally shut down, the nurses are thrilled and ask if Sadie might stop in again. Sadie's mother proposes that her visits could count for the community service she must perform for her upcoming bat mitzvah. Sadie returns to play with Sam for weeks, stealthily presenting the nurses with her time sheet at the end of every visit. Transactional, for sure, but also genuine. Here's how Zevin's omniscient narrator beautifully describes the intense connection between the two friends:

The storyline of “Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow” spans some 30 years. Sam and Sadie become estranged, then reconnect as college students in Boston. She's one of a minority of women at MIT in the late 1990s; Sam is an alienated scholarship kid at Harvard, whose Korean grandparents run a pizza place back in L.A. Though he tries to ignore his painful left foot held together by metal rods, Sam sometimes needs a cane that he fears "made him look affected, like a twenty-one-year-old Mr. Monopoly ..." 

While still undergrads, they collaborate on designing a game called Ichigo

 which becomes a blockbuster. The plot then leaps forward to the creation of Sadie and Sam's own company, called Unfair Games, and, eventually, to a stunningly depicted tragedy that's a byproduct of a good intention in one of their games.

“Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow” is as intricate as the games that Sadie and Sam devise, all of them stories-within-stories inside this novel. This is a sweeping narrative about a male-female relationship that's not romantic, but, rather, grounded on shared passions and fierce arguments. For instance, Sadie wants to make art: She wants their games to be difficult and beautiful. Sam, a former sick kid who cherished escapism, prioritizes entertainment. 

There are also smart ruminations here about cultural appropriation, given that the game, Ichigo, is inspired by Japanese artist Hokusai's famous painting 

. But, above all, Zevin's novel explores the thrills and frustration of creative work.  Here's a passage where Sadie struggles with the "look" of the game, Ichigo:

“Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow” satisfies the aspirations of both Sadie and Sam: It's a big, beautifully written novel about an underexplored topic, that succeeds in being both serious art 

Arts and Culture

The Thread® - Books and Literary News

Maureen Corrigan

Author

Gabrielle Zevin's beautifully written novel “Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow” tells the story of two childhood friends who become legendary names in the world of video game design. 

The immersive novel 'Tomorrow' is a winner for gamers and n00bs alike

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