'And then none of it happened.
All of the lives we were sure we would have. All of the freedom and the fever. None of it happened.'
Rian, Patrick, Shiv, Oli and Conor grew up together on the same housing estate. Best friends for as long as anyone could remember, none of them could imagine a life without any of the others and each dreamed of a big life beyond the bounds of the estate. Years later, Rian, the grifter of the group, is the only one who ever made it out, the others resigned to a lifetime of dead end jobs, disappointing relationships and bad choices, before eventually growing old and dying in the same estate as their parents. I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning follows the group through the beginning of their thirties, as they try to figure out if they still mean the same to each other as they once did, whilst navigating parenthood, poverty, addiction and finding purpose and pleasure within the lives they have built.
'There are days when I think I should just stop coming back altogether. Just cut the guide rope. But I can't leave it be. When I have nowhere else to go, I come here. Here is where I come to find things.'
I See Buildings Fall Like Lightning can be read in two ways: are the increasingly strained friendships between the characters an allegory for the inexorable urban decay of their hometown which provides the backdrop for the story? Or is it the other way round? Certainly Rian's philosophising (see above quote) could be taken either way. When he loses his way in his new life, he seeks comfort in the friends and the place where he last remembers feeling himself.
At its core, this is a quiet, beautiful story of friendship, and I was particularly moved by the gentleness with which the male characters describe each other, something which is not typically associated with male friendship. The author uses the motif of shared memories to great effect throughout the story, with various characters recalling episodes from their shared history from different perspectives. The reader is left to contemplate the meaning of this device for themselves - if an incident seems more important to one person than others, is that a sign of their waning connection? Is the shared importance of a memory a mark of that connection's endurance?
The narrative is infused with bleak humour, from Rian's observation that Oli, an addict who has lost a lot of weight since his friend last saw him, 'looked a bit like a baseball bat with a sad face drawn on it', to Patrick's declaration that 'Not all shit pubs have flat roofs, but all pubs with flat roofs are shit.' We can infer that this humour is variously used as a distraction from uncomfortable thoughts or conversations, a way of reinforcing shared experiences, or a coping mechanism in difficult times, as when Shiv muses that Patrick's refusing to speak to her for four days is maddening because they can't discuss 'who is doing what when, who is picking this thing up from that place, who has spoken to that person and who has filled in that form that we both agreed one of us needed to fill'. The way the author combines this tone with unfiltered emotions makes the characters feel much more real and defined. Shiv, Patrick's wife and the sole female among the main characters, is particularly beautifully written, her ponderings on relationships and parenthood both witty and profound.
Thank you to NetGalley and Little, Brown Book Group UK for the opportunity to read and review an ARC of this book.