I really enjoyed this book whilst I was reading it, and then I must have changed hats, moved into "assessor" mode and discovered I had a whole damning list of objections. And I'm not quite sure how to proceed - because it seems to have become a very personal "novel", and I think this is partly what I object to.
My Goodreaders friend Anni has provided a helpful label of "Auto-fiction", I think that is the correct term - someone's autobiography thinly disguised as fiction. It's a little too personal for my tastes - the other problem being that the book matches my own generation gap with my parents, precisely - my dad turned 78 yesterday - he was born just one year after the author/narrator/Alan Querry - who was 12 in 1951 - the year of the Festival of Britain, so I recognize many similar attitudes and stances, noticeable also I think because my father came from a background even further north than Northumberland and grew up in exceedingly impoverished conditions - they ate porridge for dinner when there was no other food in the house. Wood dates his novel back to 2008 just before the big financial crisis. He talks about Barack Obama as Senator of , and in the running for president, so Alan is 68 in the book.
Working out the dates that James Wood gives to his characters I am a year younger than the eldest daughter Vanessa, she was 16 in 1982, I was 15. We were listening to the same music and same television programs - W12 8QT - the Blue Peter address you sent all your competition entries to, "Don't You Love Me Baby" etc. So the "novel" covers a very personal background.
Our main narrator - (the sister's voices are brought in - they occasionally have their own short chapters)- but our man, Alan, grew up in Durham, a social climb from his original start in Newcastle. I spent 3 years at Durham uni, as an undergraduate, so when he talks about Elvet Bridge, or Saddler street, I know the exact spot. This is a lot of fun, and especially because of his interest in buildings - Querry is a property developer, he does a nice angle on descriptions of re-development in Newcastle (Eldon Shopping centre) and Durham - he mentions having afternoon tea in the very posh - Royal County Hotel, - been there, done that. It's really hard not to enjoy a book that delivers your own past.
And then he goes off to America for a reunion with his two daughters, Vanessa, and Helen. Meeting up with Helen in New York city; she works for Sony record producers, and then they travel by train upstate to see Vanessa who lives in Saratoga Springs; she is a philosophy professor at Skidmore College. (Real college, real company).
Again, I hugely enjoyed Alan's take on all things American. It's his first journey to the States and I have to say his observations are very much in line with my own - when I stayed in New Jersey - that Slow Train from Princeton, to New York or down to Philadelphia. I kept wondering as Alan does: when is the train going to - go?! And the train is exposed, no platform, you have to climb up past the huge wheels, and inside - vast expanses of orange and wide seats, etc. and the food: gallon jugs of milk, the prevalence of carbohydrates in diners, restaurants and malls - donuts, bagels, pretzels and weak coffee flowing... And the YIELD signs, and STOP on school buses and the beautiful brilliant blue skies and the campus hidden in trees, huge, magnificent trees everywhere - it felt like a New Land, even I could feel this when I went in 1994. And the downside - trying to find countryside and realizing as Alan observes:
He drove down Broadway, past the fabulous Alexandria, past the fine buildings and slowly out of town. All the better if he could get off the main road, into the fields and back lanes. Where the life is. ...
He was passing bare wintry fields and was in farming country, or so it seemed - a church-like barn, silvery silos standing upright like missiles. A quad bike with trailer. The road had no verge; a foolhardy pedestrian would have to make do with a grassy ditch. But the countryside never stopped being urban; a big modern high school came and went (Go Knights); there were petrol stations, and some kind of veterans' hall (Chicken Dinner, Monday); a beaten-up Ford pickup truck for sale, 92,000 miles, parked in the middle of a vast, clean, snowy front lawn, like one of those brutal modern poems self-consciously surrounded by a lot of white page; an unconvincing motel - tiny, low, wooden cabins somewhat resembling veal hutches - that seemed likely to have closed in 1957...
For miles and miles, so it seemed, the spoiled enterprising landscape persisted - or subsisted, thought Alan, for it was clear enough, clear as Navy coffee indeed, that outside Saratoga life was extremely difficult, hard, austerely poor in a way that strongly reminded him of North-east England and his childhood...
Alan is struck by names in the same way I was when I lived there - Troy, Malta -he wants to explore these places local to Saratoga, and I liked this very much - his curiousity, his astute, although I suppose biased observances. He perceives that Troy - the once centre of American steel is very similar to Newcastle, the once U.K, dare I say, World centre of shipbuilding, steel, and coal.
And now I suppose we must proceed to the novel - the narrative - I read some other reviews and was surprised when somebody said, that she "didn't like any of the characters", and on reflection I came to a similar conclusion. I particularly disliked Helen, whom I found harsh, hard, abrasive, as I suppose her character is intended, as observed through the eyes of her father, but then there is this added level of consideration: men of Alan's generation don't like "hard" women, and yet, from my own work experiences - you need to be hard to succeed. Any woman who works, needs a tough exterior - and it's certainly a criticism I've felt levelled against myself. So we'll go easy on Helen, especially as I think it is intentionally reversed that is is Helen, who is having the hard time - the daughter who is all action, and little reflection, and not Vanessa as the surface narrative intends us to believe.
Next Vanessa - she's viewed as the neurotic, weak, unsuccessful daughter - and yet as Alan finds out by attending her lecture, she is a highly proficient, confident; indeed a relaxed and charming lecturer - I would have said, very successful and yet - in the nature of fathers - she is viewed as not really surviving. She's had a dodgy past with mental illness and the reason for the current visit is because of an arm, broken, in dubious circumstances. However, I found myself querying Alan's judgements - he refers several times to an incident in Vanessa's past when at Oxford - she gave away all her possessions. When I read this, I thought so what? It's only later in a conversation between father and daughter when I realize, Vanessa along with me (similar social backgrounds), she/I belatedly understand - her parents had thought this giving away of possessions was a lead up to - Suicide! I think this is an extremely good example of that "generation gap". Likewise we are referred to Josh's "light footprint". Alan thinks he's just sponging off Vanessa, living in her house, with no intention of staying etc. etc.
And now we move to the character of Joshua - another reviewer, I noted said, she really liked, in fact the only character she liked was Joshua - God, I hated him. Yeuch, puke, spit, and now I see myself entirely aligned with my father's, and no doubt Alan's view of relationships. You don't get involved with someone - find out something you don't like - and dump them. Which is essentially what we are led to believe Josh intends to do with Vanessa.
For me the narrative centre of the book rests precisely on this conversation between Josh, and Alan, and to be honest I thought Alan took it very well, in fact, he relates to himself later:
He admired Josh, suddenly - their conversation had altered his estimation of the young man. It couldn't have been easy to speak in the way he did. Josh still loved Vanessa. But he could not live with her. He was fearful, he felt Vanessa's unhappiness like a threat.
I really thought here - that Alan makes allowances for Josh, entirely from his own perspective of finding it difficult to voice emotions. I thought SHIT! - What a shit - Josh that is. Especially after he had taken Vanessa to his parents for Christmas, allowing her to think that he was stepping up his commitment to her, but really calling in his parents as kind-of-reinforcements to help deal with Vanessa's depression - caused by his withdrawal.
I don't know, perhaps I am too harsh on Josh: Alan's had plenty of experience of his daughter's previous depressive episodes, so he probably understands way better than I do how difficult it is to help someone in this state.
And this is where I want to say, what a very brave book this is. It deals with all sorts of tricky family issues; parental help, or is it interference, parental judgement or is it concern, parental advice or is it just, the need to show that you have experiences which might actually help - the younger generation.
Me - I'm right in the middle ground, I am a daughter and a mother - with my own son away at university in the UK - at Newcastle believe it or not. Worried, concerned, certainly but at the same time realizing he has to make all his own mistakes and find out what is right, good and useful for him. Gosh I sympathise with Alan. But I also fully understand, both Vanessa, and Helen's stiffness. There is that quote early on in the book from Vanessa's diary:
"Van," said Daddy, "you won't like to hear this, but I'm not paying for your expensive boarding school down south so that you can marry a plasterer's son from Corbridge. It's not happening. His family have no prospects."
We do get Vanessa's version of the boy from Corbridge and I suppose this shows Wood's efforts to expose all these dynamics that change from one generation to the next.
Overall I liked the book very much - with some personal angsts and aggravations going on against some of the characters, but I think this is probably the sign of a very Good Book.