Peter laTrobe
writer
my reading
My take on books, articles and other reading material.
Out of the Dust
by Karen Hesse
Scholastic, 1997 (review edn. 2018)
£3.50
This is a work of free verse; the tale of a lonely girl living through the dust-storms and poverty of a share-crop farmers daughter during the 1930s Oklahoma dust storms. Billie Jo is the unwitting cause of a terrible accident that kills her mother and her unborn child, scars her - physially and emotionally - and erects a seemingly impenetrable barrier between her and her father. Her wounds even stop her from her one great love - playing the piano.
I know - it sounds depressing. But you will warm to Billie Jo, just as you will warm to Karen Hesse's unadorned, stripped-back story-telling style. Yes father and daughter do reconnect eventually, and love does return to the devastated family. This is a slice of modern American history as you may not have seen it before. Out of the dust will linger in your memory long after you have put the book down for the last time.
The Shock of the Fall
by Nathan Filer
Harper Collins, 2014
Borough Press paperback, £7.99
It's a coincidence, it must be: another Harper Collins imprint, another debut novel featuring another unreliable narrator.
The Shock of the Fall is a book by an experienced psychiatric nurse about Matt Holmes, a 19-year old schizophrenic using writing as his preferred therapy. If that sounds off-putting be prepared for a pleasant surprise. Jo Brand - herself a trained psychiatric nurse - reviewed it saying: I found (the book) dark, touching, sweet and funny and beautifully written... one of the best books about mental illness.'
We discover early on that Matt's psychosis is driven in part by guilt at the death of his Downs Syndrome elder brother during a family holiday. As early as page 5: '... a good way to introduce my brother. His name's Simon. I think you're going to like him. I really do. But in a couple of pages he'll be dead. And he was never the same after that.' As the novel progresses, and as Matt cautiously circles the events of the fateful holiday, we gradually learn the facts of Simon's death.
Throughout this Costa-winning (2013) debut novel we are continually intrigued, saddened, shocked and amused by Matt's progress through the mental health system. And for those of us who are unfamiliar with life on a secure psychiatric ward, this is an eye-opening depiction.
Filer's humane, witty and razor-sharp depiction of Matt, the characters that crosses his stage, and wry observation of the details of Matt's pointless and restricted institutional life are what makes this book unputdownable.
Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine
by Gail Honeyman
Harper Collins, 2017
paperback,£8.99
first reviewed for Harlow Writers Workshop
As I browsed the front tables at Waterstones a few weeks ago I recognised the Eleanor Oliphant cover from an enthusiastic review: ‘The title everyone is talking about…’ my paper had said. How unexpectedly true. As I picked up a copy the young woman opposite me sighed loudly and said ‘I’ve just read that – I loved it’. Italics do not adequately convey the extravagant passion with which she said ‘loved’. I smiled politely, and went on browsing. Eventually I took it, along with one or two more titles, to the checkout. A woman walking past me saw the cover, and said ‘That’s such a good read’ and the young assistant at the till told me that she’d just finished it and ‘…no wonder it won a Costa.’
I found the unprecedented paean of female appreciation worrying: I suspected either a publisher’s flash mob, or possibly a chick-lit fan-club outing. But I need not have worried: my new bedside read was safe in the hands of debut novelist Gail Honeyman, whose novel, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, won the Costa First Novel Award 2017.
Ms Honeyman is no stranger to awards. A quick search of her agent’s website shows that she was the recipient of the Scottish Book Trust’s Next Chapter Award in 2014, she’s had short fiction longlisted for BBC Radio 4’s Opening Lines, she’s been shortlisted for the Bridport Prize, and she’s also been published in New Writing Scotland.
From page one Eleanor Oliphant is an intriguingly unreliable narrator: the tedious simplicity of her repetitious, lonely life and her disdain for other people are coupled to a clear lack of understanding about how the world works. And yet, the desire to find out what drives this complex 30-something woman grows quickly.
From the moment that Eleanor becomes involved with a complete stranger’s medical emergency we know that her life will change, and compelling storytelling keeps us turning the pages. Eleanor’s struggle, becoming increasingly entangled in real life and facing her emotional challenges head on whilst her defence mechanisms erode, is amusing and touching in equal part. It is hard – I would say impossible – to avoid becoming an Eleanor Oliphant supporter.
The core of the story is serious –it is obvious from early on that she has survived a major trauma, whilst remaining unreconciled to it - but the tone throughout is light, humorous, self-mocking.
I suppose I must have slept – it seems impossible that I wouldn’t have dropped off for at least a moment or two – but it didn’t feel like it. Sundays are dead days. I try to sleep as long as possible to pass the time (an old prison trick, apparently – thank you for the tip, Mummy) but on summer mornings it can be difficult. When the phone rang just after ten, I’d been up for hours. I’d cleaned the bathroom and washed the kitchen floor, taken out the recycling and arranged all the tins in the cupboard so that the labels were facing forwards and in alphabetical order. I’d polished both pairs of shoes. I’d read the newspaper and completed all the crosswords and puzzles.
I cleared my throat before I spoke, realizing that I hadn’t uttered a word for almost twelve hours, back when I told the taxi driver where to drop me off. That’s quite good for me. Usually I don’t speak from the point at which I state my destination to the bus driver on Friday night, right through to when I greet his colleague on Monday morning.
‘Unforgettable, brilliant, funny and life-affirming’. It’s not often I find myself at one with the Daily Mail, but that was the jacket quote, and on this occasion I completely agree.
Eleanor Oliphant was not an easy woman to get to know, but she was worth the effort and I’m going to miss her. © 2018
