As I type this, we are on the cusp of the Summer holiday season. It can only be good planning that means that we get at the same time Christopher Priest’s latest novel – about those odd places that many visit especially at this time of year – the airport.
The initial set-up reads like an airport thriller, designed to grab the casual peruser of the airport bookshop, perhaps. The premise is that in 1949 a young American Hollywood star called Jeanette Marchand flies into London Airport one evening, walks across to the airside part of the terminal and is never seen again.
However, this is a Christopher Priest novel – an author known for going to unexpected places. And so he does here. Although the mystery is the catch-plot, designed to grab the reader’s attention, much of the book is not about the missing character, but about the place she disappeared from. Airside is really about dealing with the place and those situations that people find themselves in at airports – times of stress with intense and rapid transit separated by periods of queuing and waiting.
According to the author himself, “The book is largely about the liminal and always slightly disconcerting experience of passing through an airport. All travellers are familiar with the fact that every airport has two ‘sides’. In landside we check to see if the flight is on time, or when it is likely to board. If we are arriving from a flight, landside is where we are able to pick up our luggage. Most of us don’t delay long in landside. Coming in we are anxious to get home. On an outward journey we hasten towards: Airside. This is where we have to be electronically scanned, have our bags X-rayed, our laptop looked at, where we put keys and loose change in a tray, where sometimes we have to remove our belt, or transfer little tubes and bottles of harmless unguents into a plastic bag. We cannot proceed through airside without a boarding pass in hand, or a passport. Closed-circuit cameras are everywhere, and some of them are checking our faces against a database. There is a sense that at any time, for any random reason, we might be challenged by someone in a uniform.
Once through all that we experience the unique nullity of airside. Most of us feel a little disoriented or apprehensive while waiting for a flight. It’s not impatience, fearfulness or boredom. There is only one thing we can do in airside, which is leave. But it’s impossible to leave unless it’s on the aircraft on to which we are booked. It is simply impossible to go back the way we came from. (A misguided attempt to do so will lead to a memorable experience.) So we are there to do the only thing allowed to us — to wait in a state of suspense, a herded passenger.”
With this in mind, the book doesn’t initially sound like the most exciting premise, to be honest – although I was amused by the idea that many reading this novel will be in an airport, somewhere. But then Airside is a Christopher Priest novel, where even the most everyday things can become something of interest.
The other thing to remember with a Christopher Priest novel is that the author often approaches the plot obliquely. Things are never approached head-on. Instead, the story builds by showing the reader elements that first seem relatively unrelated or barely related to what we think is the main story.
Instead of continuing with Marchand, the next chapters tell of Justin Farmer, a boy who becomes obsessed with aeroplanes flying over his primary school in London and then eventually a film reviewer who, years later, finds himself becoming interested in Marchand’s disappearance, because the story involves aeroplanes and film stars, obviously. Like the reader, he finds himself intrigued by the mystery - Where did she go? Was she really dead? Who was the mysterious man who sat beside her on the flight across from New York?
The connection between Farmer and the airport is that as part of his work, we find Farmer travelling through airports all over the world to festivals and conventions. Priest’s descriptions of Farmer travelling wearily from one film festival to another may derive wry grins from genre writers or conventioneers who have followed similar journeys. I am sure that it is inspired by Christopher’s own travels!
Much of Farmer’s travel is divided up by selections of his reviews. These connect the plot to reality, with the films becoming connected to motifs in Farmer’s own life. They are interesting on their own, and at times their choice is inspired. Accompanying one lengthy sojourn around Seoul Airport, for example, we have ‘Farmer’s’ review of Stephen Spielberg’s film, The Terminal (2004), a story based on real events of Mehran Karimi Nasseri, a man stranded at Charles de Gaulle Airport, unable to leave. It seems that Farmer is destined to be in a place between airside and landside indefinitely until he manages to escape. Real-life repeats in film, which repeats in fiction, although (unlike Nasseri), Farmer travels on to Australia where the story is resolved, albeit blearily.
In its use of such supplementary material to set the fiction in some sort of reality, I was reminded a little of Nina Allen’s short story collection, The Art of Space Travel, so it was a surprise* to see the credit in the Acknowledgements to the “book’s secret but invaluable collaborator.”
Like much of Priest’s other work, Airside plays with ideas centred around a sense of place, memory and personal identity. The last third of the book finds Farmer on a global tour, interviewing actors, actresses and film crew, and being a guest at various festivals. It all becomes a bit of a blur and Priest does well to depict this as Farmer enters a kind-of Kafkaesque world of bureaucratical misunderstandings in a foreign airport, in what I can only imagine is a traveller’s nightmare, rushing between terminals in a distinctly uniform, clinical, even Ballardian landscape of enormous but faceless buildings, lobbies and terminals.
In summary, then, like much of Christopher’s work, Airside is a book that challenges expectations. Priest does well (again) to create suspense out of what could easily be mundanity, but Airside is less of a mystery and more a thoughtful story of descriptive observation of airport lounges, international air travel and the human condition.
As ever with Christopher’s books, I liked the fact that it is a novel that does not reveal its points easily, nor does it provide the reader with easy answers. Readers expecting easy solutions and everything tied up at the end may be disappointed, but for me much of the enjoyment in reading a Christopher Priest novel is seeing how the often disparate elements eventually interact, and Airside does not disappoint in that respect. It is a book where the journey is the important thing, not the destination, which seems somewhat appropriate for a book about air travel!
Like most of Priest’s books, this is one that may sit in the brain for a while after reading, raising thoughts and ideas that the reader will keep coming back to. In that respect, it is another success.
*but not too much of a surprise, as Nina is Christopher’s partner in real life.