Forever Young, by Steven Carroll, won the Miles Franklin, the Commonwealth Writers Prize, and (jointly) the Prime Minister's Literary Award. Clearly it has been recognised for its literary merit, but my feelings about it are torn - while I found some aspects of the characters compelling, and the way the plot was randomly connected to be rather clever, I had trouble engaging fully with the narrative and found myself wandering off at times. Perhaps part of the trouble is that this is apparently book number 5 in a series of 6; I have not read Carroll before, and so was not familiar with his previous development of these same characters. I came to this book without any prior knowledge of Rita and Vic, their family and their story.
The book is set over a couple of months in 1977, a tumultuous period in Australian politics, with Whitlam about to lose the federal election. Through the various sections, we are given perspectives from different characters, and we are returned to each of them three or four times over the course of the novel. First is Michael, a 30-something who has accepted that his dream of becoming a rock and roll musician is not going to eventuate. We are treated to a rambling, stream-of-consciousness type of interior monologue from Michael about his life, his loves, his passions and his day-to-day activities. His every thought is documented and analysed. Next we meet Michael's friend, Peter, a political mover and shaker, who provides the most interesting plot line in the book, as he reveals information (which may or may not be true) in the form of a leak, which then takes on a life of its own, with tragic consequences for another friend, and reverberations into his personal life for the remainder of the novel. We meet Mandy, Michael's recent ex lover, and Rita, Michael's mother, who is probably the most interesting character, as she climbs aboard the 'tram of one's fancy' and ditches her sedate life as a high-end retail shop assistant to become a travel and tour guide. I only realised after I finished the novel that Rita and her husband Vic were the subject of the previous novels in the series, a fact that, had I known earlier, might have made a difference in my reading of this one. We also meet Art, an expat Australian living in Italy, creating art and musing over where his life has ended up.
And so we go between the perspectives of these characters, and share the journeys of their interior lives, and are privy to their existential thoughts.
What I most enjoyed about the book was the apparently random and casual links that were made every so often between these characters ... one character might, in the middle of a life crisis, happen to notice someone else on the beach ... and later we realise that the person on the beach is another major character ... that their paths have crossed, if ever so slightly. This is repeated to great effect with a couple of the major plot points, so that one person's actions have a ripple effect into the lives of others, or result in circumstances that could not have been foreseen.
The book is written in a certain style that some will find intensely intriguing and thought-provoking, and others will just find irritating. I swung between the two quite often during my reading of the book.
One theme that I did find fascinating was - as represented in the title of the book, Forever Young - the idea of youth and the inexorable march into old age. I'm guessing this theme would have even more meaning if I had read the other books in the series.
One quote that particularly struck me: 'Let our children know...that which is not spoken. Let them know, let them know, that we tried. In our way. That we grew older for them, that they might not grow old. That we lived the wrong life for them, that they might live the right one. That we suffered for them, even before they were born, that they might not. And if we snapped and shouted and slapped their love away or brought damage down upon them, it was not for want of trying not to. For we tried, in our way. We tried. And if they ever should ask, let them know.' And later... 'That we were damaged before we came to them, and if we failed to keep our damage to ourselves, it wasn't for lack of trying.' This theme resonated with me, as did the book's general ideas of youth being wasted on the young, wisdom being acquired with age, children becoming independent and cutting family ties, and older people searching for what they failed to find - or to accomplish - during their youth.
This is a novel of big ideas and broad, enigmatic philosophical debate. For me, I found it less like an engaging story and more like a theoretical treatise on politics, culture and society.