Tag: fiction

Study for Obedience was the shortest book on this year’s Booker Prize shortlist. It is an exquisite little piece in many ways, but I have to confess I remain ambivalent about it.

There is not much in the way of a plot. The central character and narrator is a female about which we know very little, apart from what she reveals through the course of the book. She may not be young, but she has certainly led a fairly sheltered, quiet life. We meet her when she is brought by her older brother to his home in order to look after him. He is a fairly dominant and not very pleasant individual whose wife has just left him and taken their children with her. Our narrator provides care and attention to him, keeping the house, feeding him, even reading to him and massaging him while he bathes. 

The place where the narrator and her brother live is unnamed but it is clear they are considered outsiders. The brother, however, has been able to achieve a degree of acceptance, through his wealth, his social status and the self-confident way he puts himself about. The narrator, however, his younger sister, is more timid, prefers to remain below the radar. The townspeople become suspicious of her, particularly when a series of strange events coincides with her arrival – a local dog experiences a phantom pregnancy; a sow crushes her litter of piglets; a herd of normally docile retired dairy cattle goes mad and all have to be destroyed. Our narrator attempts to ingratiate herself with the townspeople but her efforts go unrewarded. 

There are hints of antisemitism in the novel, the prejudice that never seems to go away. The brother and sister seem to be Jewish, different to the townspeople, but even though they are not overt in their faith, the narrator in particular arouses suspicion, hostility and is demonised. Reading the book, I was also reminded of the Salem Witch Trials, where femaleness is distrusted, almost pathologised, something to be held in check. How “obedient” is our narrator really?

What cannot be denied about this book is the quality of the writing and of providing a highly distinctive character perspective. What I am less sure about is, frankly, what the book is about! Perhaps it merits another read – it is certainly short enough to do that quite easily. My first response to it however, has been very much one of “and…?” 

It’s certainly unusual and perhaps that is how it ascended to the shortlist of the prestigious Booker, but I’m afraid it wasn’t a winner for me (or the judges, it seems).

The Bee Sting is by some measure the longest book on this year’s Booker shortlist and the one I have enjoyed the most so far. I do think I actually prefer a long book. Murray is an Irish novelist and this is his fourth novel. He is no stranger to the Booker as his second novel, Skippy Dies, was longlisted in 2010. He is also no stranger to prizes, his debut, An Evening of Long Goodbyes, having won the Whitbread First Novel Award in 2003. So, he comes with something of a pedigree. 

The Bee Sting is a novel about a modern family living in an unnamed town in the Midlands in Ireland. Dickie Barnes runs the family business, a car dealership in the town, which was established by his father Maurice, an outgoing entrepreneurial type, who now lives in Portugal. Under Dickie’s stewardship however, and following a series of unfortunate events, including an economic downturn and a devastating flood, the business is now under threat. Dickie’s wife Imelda is introduced to us as superficial and glamorous and it is clear there are tensions in the marriage, worsened by the decline in the family’s fortunes.

But the novel opens with Cass, Dickie and Imelda’s teenage daughter, whose main preoccupations in life are social media and fantasising about a future life as a bohemian living in the city with her best friend Elaine. There is also PJ, her younger brother, who lives for computer games, his friends and the woods at the back of the family home which form part of their land and in which there is a brick outhouse they call the bunker.

Each member of the family gets a long section of the book to tell their story and gradually we learn more about their internal dilemmas. Imelda, for example, is far from the vacuous character her daughter believes her to be. We learn that she grew up in a violent, deprived and socially outcast family. She was the only girl in the family and her mother died when she was a teenager. She is a renowned beauty though, which is both her gift and a curse. When she meets and falls in love with the charismatic Frank Barnes, son of local businessman Maurice and a gifted football player, it looks as if she will finally escape her violent and vulgar father and brothers. But then Frank is killed in a car accident. 

Frank’s family is devastated by grief. Dickie comes home from Trinity (having had a mixed experience there himself) and decides that he will step in to run the garage with his father and marry Imelda, look after her the way Frank would have wanted. On their wedding day, Imelda arrives at church and refuses to lift her veil for the whole day – a bee became trapped in the fabric inside the car on the way to the church, she says, and stung her face. (When Cass learns of this story via a newspaper clipping on the internet it only confirms her perception of her mother as vain and superficial.) For Imelda and Dickie, we are invited to consider whether this was a dark omen overshadowing their future.

This the basic story of the novel and as we hear each character’s perspective on both past and present events, layers of the onion are gradually peeled away to reveal a set of four people wrestling with deep insecurities, questioning themselves and their decisions, and yet curiously unable to meet each other in their place of need. There is love, but they are hamstrung and unable to express it. Overshadowing the novel is the threat of climate change. As an escape from his problems, Dickie develops a strange friendship with handyman Victor, a single, lonely bachelor obsessed with wiping out the grey squirrel population and ‘prepping’ for the end of civilisation as we know it. This thread of the story provides some light relief (yes, really!) at times

This novel is darkly comic in places – you may feel guilty at some of the laugh out loud moments – and deeply affecting in others. The characters are brilliantly drawn, particularly the young people I felt. I listened to it on audio and was very impressed by all the performances. Its scope is relatively small, a single family of four, surprising for such a long novel, but it explores great depths and is thoroughly engaging. If I have any criticism, I think, for me, it was the ending, which obviously I’m not going to reveal here. I felt built up to a pitch of tension and then badly let down. So, I’m a little bit cross about that! 

Still highly recommended though.

Western Lane is one of two very short books on this year’s Booker Prize shortlist. Chetna Maroo is a British Indian novelist who lives in the UK and Western Lane is her debut novel. It feels like a brave and unusual work – it is not what you would expect a first novel to be and this suggests a certain confidence on the part of the author and, gratifyingly and even more unusually, a willingness to take a risk on the part of the publisher. A risk that appears to have paid off!

The main character in the novel is Gopi, but it is about a family, a father and his three daughters, trying to rebuild their lives in the aftermath of the devastating death of their mother. Set in Luton, the family comprises Gopi and her two older sisters, Khush and Mona. When their mother dies, their father, ‘Pa’, decides that they need a focus and decides sport is the answer. He takes them to the leisure centre at Western Lane for frequent training, but it is only really Gopi who shows any significant aptitude or enthusiasm. Visiting Western Lane so regularly means Gopi gets to know one of the other young and talented players, Ged, to whom she is clearly attracted. Pa also seems to enjoy a connection with Ged’s mother. 

Gradually, Khushi and Mona give up their squash, but Gopi’s progress becomes almost the family’s project. When the opportunity arises for Gopi to take part in a competition in Durham and Cleveland, this provides a goal for them to work towards. Pa and the coach at Western Lane draw on the strong tradition of successful Pakistani and Indian players, watching videos and studying their tactics, to both motivate and instruct Gopi.

Against the backdrop of Gopi’s developing prowess in squash there is the deterioration in the family home. Pa has focused so intensely on his daughters that he neglects his own mental and physical health. Monai, the eldest of the three girls nearly becomes the little mother in the household, even using the small wages she gets from her part-time jobs to buy food. It comes to a head when Pa has a near-breakdown. At around the same time, Gopi injures Ged when the pair are practicing together and Ged’s mother will no longer let him play her. The girls’ auntie and uncle who live in Edinburgh, come to visit and are appalled by the state of the home and how the girls are being brought up. Something must be done.

This is a story about grief and about coming of age, and particularly for young girls trying to navigate that process without a mother. The book is also about the healing power of sport, which is an interesting and novel way to approach the issue of grief. It is a small, quiet, gentle novel, but no less powerful for that. Is it Booker-shortlist-worthy? I’m not sure. I enjoyed it and would recommend it but I can’t say it is a great book. 

I’ve been a bit quiet on the blogging front recently. I’ve started a new training course, adding a qualification for my day job, so time has been a bit pressured to say the least. I am delighted to say that I HAVE been reading though, and keeping on track with the Booker shortlist, so I have a few banked and ready for review. I wrote about If I Survive You a couple of weeks ago, a book I enjoyed, but can’t say I was wowed by. The next book on my list was This Other Eden by American author Paul Harding. This is Harding’s third novel in thirteen years, so he is not as prolific as some, but his debut novel, Tinkers, won the Pulitzer Prize in 2010. 

This Other Eden is set on the fictional Apple Island, just off the coast of Maine, during the late nineteenth/early twentieth century. Apple Island is home to a small and quite insular community. Most are of mixed ethnic origins. The islanders are marginalised and keep themselves very much to themselves and there exists a mutual suspicion between them and the authorities on the mainland. Although financially poor and living without modern conveniences, there is a kind of purity to the way of life on the island. The people live modestly but are relatively self-sufficient and are untroubled by “normal” social conventions and behaviour.

The sense of ‘idyll’ comes under threat, however, when community and religious leaders on the mainland begin to express concern about what they perceive as the uncivillised way of life on Apple Island. At first they dispatch a young teacher, Matthew Diamond, to the island to educate the children in basic reading, writing, arithmetic and, most importantly, religious instruction. Over time, Matthew Diamond finds he grows fond of the children and finds a few of them to be unexpectedly talented, in art, mathematics and literature. 

The mainland authorities are not satisfied by simply sending a teacher to support the children; it is as if they feel their own way of life, the social standards they are attempting to uphold, are gravely threatened by the islanders whom they see as little better than savages in their midst, particularly the adults. Soon enough, a party of experts is sent to examine the island’s inhabitants, take physical measurements and so on, as if this will indeed determine (confirm?) the extent of moral decrepitude present in the population. There is indeed some inbreeding, the history of the community is troubled, but the treatment of the islanders by the authorities, juxtaposed with their gentleness and love, invites the reader to question who is the more savage. Needless to say, it does not end well for the islanders, there is a certain inevitability building throughout the book.

This is a powerful and affecting novel and is based on real historical events which took place on Malaga Island in 1911 when an entire community was evicted from its settlement. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and listened to it on audio. 

Recommended.

If I Survive You  is Jonathan Escoffery’s debut novel, published earlier this year. Quite an achievement to be shortlisted for the Booker on your first attempt! It is described by the publisher as a series of linked short stories, following the fortunes of a family living in Miami. The parents left their native Jamaica when they were young, in the 1970s, when there was civil and political turbulence in the country, looking for a better life and a better future for their two sons, Delano and Trelawney. Each of the chapters follows a different character or stage of a character’s life. Trelawney’s story, however, makes up the bulk of the book.

The family is neither settled nor happy. The father, Topper, works mostly as a labourer in building and landscaping. They eventually own their own home and he runs his own small business, but the house is structurally unsound and in a state of gradual decay – a metaphor perhaps for the family’s fortunes generally. The parents eventually separate after many years of unhappiness, and Sanya, the mother, returns to Jamaica. The country is still, at that stage, troubled by unrest and political turmoil but she finds that preferable to life in the United States.

Delano is the elder of the two brothers. He aspires to be a musician, but when responsibility is foisted on him fairly early in life (his partner becomes  pregnant) he sets up his own landscaping business. Trelawney is very different to his brother and the two are at loggerheads for most of the book. Even as children they fought bitterly and were cruel to one another, not helped by the fact that their father seems to favour Delano. It is not clear why. When the parents separate, they each take one boy to live with them, and Topper takes Delano, making it quite clear that he does not want Trelawney, seems even to fear him somehow. Possibly because Trelawney has greater potential, is more academic and gets a college degree. It’s as if his father considers him better able to look after himself. Delano, he seems to believe, needs him more, but this creates a toxic environment around the relationship between the three men.

In spite of his education, Trelawney does not have it easy, however, and it is his story we follow most closely. He is mostly homeless, at times even living in his car, which he can barely afford to put fuel in. He works in various dead-end jobs until finally securing a position as the manager of a housing block for elderly people, where he is forced to do the company’s bidding, maximising revenue at the expense of the ageing and frail inhabitants. Trelawney is a young man who has done everything that has been asked of him to participate fully in American society and yet as a Black man he remains subject to casual racism and systemic discrimination. Even his girlfriend’s family, themselves Latin American immigrants, cannot accept him and are openly hostile. We learn that Trelawney is relatively light-skinned, which makes him an outsider even in the Black community – perhaps that is also why he is rejected by his father? He cannot find anywhere that he fits, a home, a sense of belonging. 

A further motif that runs through the book is the Hurricane Andrew disaster, one of the most devastating ever to hit Florida. It represents one of the actual events that citizens had to try and ‘survive’, but for Trelawney, his brother, his whole family and countless others, there are many other daily battles for survival.

This is a powerful novel in many ways – the characters, particularly the three central males, are well-drawn. The author writes about racism and discrimination in a way that only a person intimately acquainted with such experiences could. He also writes honestly and sympathetically about a deeply dysfunctional family, particularly where paternal relationships are concerned. For me, the weakness of the novel lies in the lack of a narrative thread. In many ways it is series of ‘shorts’; I am reminded of Bernardine Evaristo’s Booker-winning Girl, Woman, Other here, but that book was more successful, I think, because each of those stories could have stood alone. That is not the case with If I Survive You where each story only makes sense in relation to the whole. And yet, there is not a strong enough story, for me, to hold the whole thing together.

In writing this review, I have struggled to recall certain details, for example, when it is set (from Wikipedia I learn that Hurricane Andrew struck in 1992)  and the names of most of the minor characters. Beyond the profound sense of unease about injustice, racism and societal trauma, I find myself unable to answer the question about why this book should be a Booker-winner.

Recommended, but perhaps not heartily.