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Darke
Dr James Darke has expelled himself from the world. He writes compulsively in his 'coming of old age' journal; he eats little, drinks and smokes a lot. Meditating on what he has lost - the loves of his life, both dead and alive - he tries to console himself with the wisdom of the great thinkers and poets, yet finds nothing but disappointment. But cracks of light appear in his carefully managed darkness; he begins to emerge from his self-imposed exile, drawn by the tender, bruised filaments of love for his daughter and grandson.
304 pages, Paperback
First published February 2, 2017
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January 6, 2018
Darke is perhaps the most antisocial protagonist ever put to paper. A real grumble pot who hates just about everything and anything to the point he completely withdraws and isolates himself from society, he takes extreme measures in doing so, it’s hard to sit though this intense downward descent into melancholia and depression. This delves deep into the big questions in life that made me feel slightly uncomfortable at times.
Dr. James Darke is hateful & spiteful and I was prepared to dislike him all the way through but then glimpses of emotion crept in and you started to feel a little empathy. When I say a little...I mean just a little, he is still highly unlikeable but by the end you do feel abit more sorry for him.
This really is a sad portrayal of someone dealing with grief, the sadness is palpable you feel the sadness of him living life without his wife after losing her through cancer. The isolation and removal of himself from life is extreme it’s only through the flashbacks that some tender aspects to Darke seeps through and you can start to appreciate some of his actions although he wasn’t the nicest guy to start off with. The ending provides some heart which was desperately needed for me to have made this book somewhat worthwhile. I’m still undecided about how to rate this book, I found it a bit like swallowing a bunch of bitter pills. Not totally to my liking but I was nevertheless captivated by Darke and his curmudgeonly ways.
Thank you to Netgalley and Canongate books for my advanced readers copy.
Dr. James Darke is hateful & spiteful and I was prepared to dislike him all the way through but then glimpses of emotion crept in and you started to feel a little empathy. When I say a little...I mean just a little, he is still highly unlikeable but by the end you do feel abit more sorry for him.
This really is a sad portrayal of someone dealing with grief, the sadness is palpable you feel the sadness of him living life without his wife after losing her through cancer. The isolation and removal of himself from life is extreme it’s only through the flashbacks that some tender aspects to Darke seeps through and you can start to appreciate some of his actions although he wasn’t the nicest guy to start off with. The ending provides some heart which was desperately needed for me to have made this book somewhat worthwhile. I’m still undecided about how to rate this book, I found it a bit like swallowing a bunch of bitter pills. Not totally to my liking but I was nevertheless captivated by Darke and his curmudgeonly ways.
Thank you to Netgalley and Canongate books for my advanced readers copy.
February 15, 2017
Dr. James Darke, the narrator of rare-book dealer Rick Gekoski’s debut novel, is of the same lineage as titular antiheroes like Hendrik Groen and Fredrik Backman’s Ove, or J. Mendelssohn, protagonist of the title novella in Colum McCann’s Thirteen Ways of Looking: an aging widower and curmudgeon with an unforgettable voice.
As Darke begins, this retired English teacher is literally sealing himself off from the world. He hires a handyman to take out the door’s built-in letterbox, change the locks and install a high-tech peephole; he has all his mail redirected to an old colleague, George; he changes his e-mail address; and he compiles a thorough list of service providers who will come to him – everything from grocery deliveries to a doctor. Now, with any luck, he won’t need to set foot outside his London home while he writes this “coming-of-old-age book.”
For eight months Darke stays in self-imposed exile, his solitude broken only by visits from Bronya, a Bulgarian cleaner who engages him in discussions of his beloved Dickens. Although he’s only sixty-something, Darke sounds like a much older man, complaining of constipation and vision problems and launching a vendetta against the annoying neighbor dog. Ignoring the pile of adamant letters George guiltily delivers on behalf of Darke’s daughter, Lucy, he keeps up his very particular habits and rituals (I loved the steps of making coffee with an espresso-maker) and gives himself over to memories of life with Suzy.
The novel is tripartite: In Part I we meet Darke and get accustomed to his angry, hypercritical voice. In Part II we descend into a no-holds-barred account of his wife Suzy’s death from lung cancer. She’s another wonderful character: pessimistic, ungraceful and utterly foul-mouthed. Here Darke unleashes the full extent of his bitterness. He mocks the approach, advocated by Joan Didion (“that poor Joan D’Idiot,” he calls her!), of turning to sages of the past for comfort, instead insisting that literature – including W.B. Yeats, T.S. Eliot and all the rest – was of no use to him in the face of his wife’s impending death:
Luckily, Part III is something of a reprieve, as Darke starts to come out of his temporary retreat and resume life. He has a rental car delivered and sets out for Oxford, where he revisits his and Suzy’s old university haunts and hesitantly reopens a connection with Lucy and her young son, Rudy.
Sebastian Barry astutely notes the novel’s debt to Dante, but the component parts of the Divine Comedy are reordered, with the purgatory of the house-bound months broken by the hellish narrative of Suzy’s dying, which is then lifted by Darke’s return to life.
Each section has a different tone and is enjoyable in its own way, but for me there was no getting around the fact that Part I is the most entertaining. I was surprised to read in the Acknowledgments that Gekoski toned down this first dose of Darke considerably, on the advice of his wife and his literary agent; I think he could have hammed him up a fair bit more. Also, Lucy didn’t ring true for me as a character, which detracted from what’s meant to be an alternately volatile and poignant relationship; I preferred Darke’s scenes with Bronya.
In any case, the novel makes great metaphorical use of light and darkness. Not so subtle, maybe, but it works:
And of course, look to literature and you find nothing but “shitslingers – Kahlil Gibran, Mr Tolstoy, the dreaded Eliot – all of them. Just wandering in the dark with flashlights.”
With lots of memorable scenes and turns of phrase, Darke is a rewarding glance at loss, literature and the sometimes futile search for salvation. It’s inspiring to see Gekoski, an American-born academic and literary critic (he’s been dubbed the Bill Bryson of the book world), turn his hand to fiction at age 71. I knew of him through his nonfiction, including Outside of a Dog: A Bibliomemoir, which I read in 2010, and have also enjoyed a couple of his articles that nicely presage this novel, on the subjects of reading through grief and turning against print books. I hope you’ll give his work a try.
With thanks to Becca Nice and Jamie Norman of Canongate for the free copy for review.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
As Darke begins, this retired English teacher is literally sealing himself off from the world. He hires a handyman to take out the door’s built-in letterbox, change the locks and install a high-tech peephole; he has all his mail redirected to an old colleague, George; he changes his e-mail address; and he compiles a thorough list of service providers who will come to him – everything from grocery deliveries to a doctor. Now, with any luck, he won’t need to set foot outside his London home while he writes this “coming-of-old-age book.”
For eight months Darke stays in self-imposed exile, his solitude broken only by visits from Bronya, a Bulgarian cleaner who engages him in discussions of his beloved Dickens. Although he’s only sixty-something, Darke sounds like a much older man, complaining of constipation and vision problems and launching a vendetta against the annoying neighbor dog. Ignoring the pile of adamant letters George guiltily delivers on behalf of Darke’s daughter, Lucy, he keeps up his very particular habits and rituals (I loved the steps of making coffee with an espresso-maker) and gives himself over to memories of life with Suzy.
The novel is tripartite: In Part I we meet Darke and get accustomed to his angry, hypercritical voice. In Part II we descend into a no-holds-barred account of his wife Suzy’s death from lung cancer. She’s another wonderful character: pessimistic, ungraceful and utterly foul-mouthed. Here Darke unleashes the full extent of his bitterness. He mocks the approach, advocated by Joan Didion (“that poor Joan D’Idiot,” he calls her!), of turning to sages of the past for comfort, instead insisting that literature – including W.B. Yeats, T.S. Eliot and all the rest – was of no use to him in the face of his wife’s impending death:
We don’t have God, so we have literature, with its associated proverbs and allegories, its received wisdom. We quote and genuflect and defer and pay homage, as if in a holy sanctuary. But just as God failed us, so too will reading. We will turn against it as certainly, and rightly, as we did against Him. Nobody, and nothing, can explain life for us.
Luckily, Part III is something of a reprieve, as Darke starts to come out of his temporary retreat and resume life. He has a rental car delivered and sets out for Oxford, where he revisits his and Suzy’s old university haunts and hesitantly reopens a connection with Lucy and her young son, Rudy.
Sebastian Barry astutely notes the novel’s debt to Dante, but the component parts of the Divine Comedy are reordered, with the purgatory of the house-bound months broken by the hellish narrative of Suzy’s dying, which is then lifted by Darke’s return to life.
Each section has a different tone and is enjoyable in its own way, but for me there was no getting around the fact that Part I is the most entertaining. I was surprised to read in the Acknowledgments that Gekoski toned down this first dose of Darke considerably, on the advice of his wife and his literary agent; I think he could have hammed him up a fair bit more. Also, Lucy didn’t ring true for me as a character, which detracted from what’s meant to be an alternately volatile and poignant relationship; I preferred Darke’s scenes with Bronya.
In any case, the novel makes great metaphorical use of light and darkness. Not so subtle, maybe, but it works:
witnessing a protracted and horrible death infects the soul, the images implant themselves, root and flourish, you can never look at yourself or others in the innocent light – you are tarnished, uncleanably darkened.
And of course, look to literature and you find nothing but “shitslingers – Kahlil Gibran, Mr Tolstoy, the dreaded Eliot – all of them. Just wandering in the dark with flashlights.”
With lots of memorable scenes and turns of phrase, Darke is a rewarding glance at loss, literature and the sometimes futile search for salvation. It’s inspiring to see Gekoski, an American-born academic and literary critic (he’s been dubbed the Bill Bryson of the book world), turn his hand to fiction at age 71. I knew of him through his nonfiction, including Outside of a Dog: A Bibliomemoir, which I read in 2010, and have also enjoyed a couple of his articles that nicely presage this novel, on the subjects of reading through grief and turning against print books. I hope you’ll give his work a try.
With thanks to Becca Nice and Jamie Norman of Canongate for the free copy for review.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
January 30, 2024
hani doppler’e filan gıcık olan okur tipi var ya… bence darke’yle tanışırlarsa mazallah yazarı ve yayınevini topa tutarlar.
darke’yle eve kapanacağı izolasyon sırasında tanışıyoruz. yaptırması gereken birkaç tadilat var (kapı duvar gözükmesi için) ve ustalarla, sonrasında komşularla, komşunun köpeğiyle, bulgar temizlikçisiyle, eski öğrencileriyle muhabbetlerini gördükçe kafayı yememek işten değil. şairler, viktorya dönemi yazarları, thatcher, uzun diyalog yazanlar kimler kimler darke’nin nefretinden sebeplenmiyor ki? üstelik öyle karanlık bir humour’u var ki ister istemez biz de gülüyoruz.
zenofobik, mizojen, kendi kızıyla bile çocuk sevmemezliğini çözememiş, gıcık kare gıcık bir adam.. 100 sayfa filan sonra bulgar temzilikçi bronya’yla geliştirdiği iletişim bizi azıcık yumuşatıyor. el yazması kitaplarına, sessizliğe ve yalnızlığa her şeyden çok önem veren bu adamın niçin bunu seçtiğine gelince…
james darke’nin yazığı günlük olarak (tarihsiz, sırasız) ilerleyen roman bir yerden sonra james’in kanserden ölen karısı suzy’i anlatmaya başlıyor. hastalığın getirdiği sondan başlayıp başa, ilk tanışmalarına doğru gidiyoruz. kızının doğumu, öncesinde de anımsanan kızının çocukluğu derken ne oluyor? edebiyat oluyor işte. iyi bir roman oluyor. biz dünyanın en huysuz insanı darke için gözlerimiz dolu dolu oturmuş dertlenirken buluyoruz kendimizi.
edebiyata dair görüşlerine bire bir katıldığım darke’nin yorumlarına, ofansif mizahına çok güldüm. ama bir yerden sonra tüm bunlar kesiliyor ve biz yalnızlığın, acının ve sonrasında pişmanlığın dibine doğru ilerliyoruz.
baba kız hikayesi olarak da çok etkili bir yere evrilen bu roman isterse herkesin değişebileceğini gösteriyor bize. ve evet yine geliyoruz yaşlıların bencillik ve huysuzluklarına. darke bunu anlıyor ve değişiyor. bize de yüzümüzde huzurlu bir tebessüm bırakıyor.
aileye, ölüme, yasa, aşka, cinselliğe ve edebiyata dair bir roman “darke”.
man booker jürisinde pek çok kez görev almış rick gekoski’nin bu romanı bence burada çok az konuşulmuş. sondaki kötü sürpriz gerekli miydi, bence değildi ama gördüm ki devam romanı var darke’nin… onun için gerekli olmuş olabilir.
begüm kovulmaz’ın çevirisi akıp gidiyor.
darke’yle eve kapanacağı izolasyon sırasında tanışıyoruz. yaptırması gereken birkaç tadilat var (kapı duvar gözükmesi için) ve ustalarla, sonrasında komşularla, komşunun köpeğiyle, bulgar temizlikçisiyle, eski öğrencileriyle muhabbetlerini gördükçe kafayı yememek işten değil. şairler, viktorya dönemi yazarları, thatcher, uzun diyalog yazanlar kimler kimler darke’nin nefretinden sebeplenmiyor ki? üstelik öyle karanlık bir humour’u var ki ister istemez biz de gülüyoruz.
zenofobik, mizojen, kendi kızıyla bile çocuk sevmemezliğini çözememiş, gıcık kare gıcık bir adam.. 100 sayfa filan sonra bulgar temzilikçi bronya’yla geliştirdiği iletişim bizi azıcık yumuşatıyor. el yazması kitaplarına, sessizliğe ve yalnızlığa her şeyden çok önem veren bu adamın niçin bunu seçtiğine gelince…
james darke’nin yazığı günlük olarak (tarihsiz, sırasız) ilerleyen roman bir yerden sonra james’in kanserden ölen karısı suzy’i anlatmaya başlıyor. hastalığın getirdiği sondan başlayıp başa, ilk tanışmalarına doğru gidiyoruz. kızının doğumu, öncesinde de anımsanan kızının çocukluğu derken ne oluyor? edebiyat oluyor işte. iyi bir roman oluyor. biz dünyanın en huysuz insanı darke için gözlerimiz dolu dolu oturmuş dertlenirken buluyoruz kendimizi.
edebiyata dair görüşlerine bire bir katıldığım darke’nin yorumlarına, ofansif mizahına çok güldüm. ama bir yerden sonra tüm bunlar kesiliyor ve biz yalnızlığın, acının ve sonrasında pişmanlığın dibine doğru ilerliyoruz.
baba kız hikayesi olarak da çok etkili bir yere evrilen bu roman isterse herkesin değişebileceğini gösteriyor bize. ve evet yine geliyoruz yaşlıların bencillik ve huysuzluklarına. darke bunu anlıyor ve değişiyor. bize de yüzümüzde huzurlu bir tebessüm bırakıyor.
aileye, ölüme, yasa, aşka, cinselliğe ve edebiyata dair bir roman “darke”.
man booker jürisinde pek çok kez görev almış rick gekoski’nin bu romanı bence burada çok az konuşulmuş. sondaki kötü sürpriz gerekli miydi, bence değildi ama gördüm ki devam romanı var darke’nin… onun için gerekli olmuş olabilir.
begüm kovulmaz’ın çevirisi akıp gidiyor.
December 30, 2018
I have been keen to read this one since seeing posutive friend reviews when it was published last year, and this is an accomplished debut novel with a very memorable protagonist.
The first part of the book is the most fully realised. We are introduced to the narrator James Darke as he prepares for a period of near total isolation in his own house by removing his letter box, changing his phone number and email addresses and redirecting his mail. Darke is a literate narrator (in his afterword Gekoski says that his distinctive voice was largely achieved by judicious borrowing from other writers, none of which were obvious to me), a snobbish misanthrope who has retired from teaching literature at a public school.
The rest of the book explain the reasons for his decision to isolate himself, describing his long relationship with his dead wife Suzy, who has died of lung cancer - this is described in graphic detail.
In the final part of the book Darke attempts a reconciliation with his daughter Lucy and achieves a partial redemption through his relationship with his young grandson. For me this ending was a little too obvious and made the difference between awarding it 4 or 5 stars.
The first part of the book is the most fully realised. We are introduced to the narrator James Darke as he prepares for a period of near total isolation in his own house by removing his letter box, changing his phone number and email addresses and redirecting his mail. Darke is a literate narrator (in his afterword Gekoski says that his distinctive voice was largely achieved by judicious borrowing from other writers, none of which were obvious to me), a snobbish misanthrope who has retired from teaching literature at a public school.
The rest of the book explain the reasons for his decision to isolate himself, describing his long relationship with his dead wife Suzy, who has died of lung cancer - this is described in graphic detail.
In the final part of the book Darke attempts a reconciliation with his daughter Lucy and achieves a partial redemption through his relationship with his young grandson. For me this ending was a little too obvious and made the difference between awarding it 4 or 5 stars.
October 21, 2017
This was probably the strangest book I've read all year...but that's what attracted me to it. I was looking for something offbeat, and I certainly found it here. Beauty can be found in melancholy, but upon finishing this book I was glad to move on to something more uplifting.
James Darke is British and a retired literature teacher. He lost his wife to cancer months ago. While one can understand his navigating the waters of grief, he is behaving very strangely indeed. Darke hires someone to remove the golden knocker from his stately door, seal up the mail slot and install a pricey peephole from which he can observe life "out there" when needed. A final coat of unwelcoming and oppressive black paint, and the job is done. Mail is rerouted to a friend, emails won't be answered and phone calls won't be taken. The curtains are to be drawn at all times.
His name is a metaphor for his dour, cynical and judgemental personality. Everything must be neat and in its place. Food and furnishings must be of high quality. One must be clean and dressed to perfection. A steady diet of this man was at times weary to read through in its "Darkeness,"...pun intended. Thankfully, like a shard of light breaking through Darke would unexpectedly redeem himself with acts of love and shedding of tears.
In essence, this book is about a widower, father and grandfather who deeply grieves the loss of his wife, and struggles in his relationship with his daughter. He is a difficult man, but is not without redemption. It was a worthy and interesting read.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for providing this advance reader copy in return for my honest review.
James Darke is British and a retired literature teacher. He lost his wife to cancer months ago. While one can understand his navigating the waters of grief, he is behaving very strangely indeed. Darke hires someone to remove the golden knocker from his stately door, seal up the mail slot and install a pricey peephole from which he can observe life "out there" when needed. A final coat of unwelcoming and oppressive black paint, and the job is done. Mail is rerouted to a friend, emails won't be answered and phone calls won't be taken. The curtains are to be drawn at all times.
His name is a metaphor for his dour, cynical and judgemental personality. Everything must be neat and in its place. Food and furnishings must be of high quality. One must be clean and dressed to perfection. A steady diet of this man was at times weary to read through in its "Darkeness,"...pun intended. Thankfully, like a shard of light breaking through Darke would unexpectedly redeem himself with acts of love and shedding of tears.
In essence, this book is about a widower, father and grandfather who deeply grieves the loss of his wife, and struggles in his relationship with his daughter. He is a difficult man, but is not without redemption. It was a worthy and interesting read.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for providing this advance reader copy in return for my honest review.
February 20, 2018
uno dei libri più sconclusionati e privi di equilibrio che abbia mai letto.
parte grottesco, prosegue drammatico e finisce non so neanche come, direi ad un inquietante incrocio fra schizofrenia e mulino bianco, con una figlia - adulta - rimasta da poco orfana di madre. che prima tempesta il padre di lettere in cui implora che lui le parli per elaborare insieme il recente lutto, poi lo copre di ingiurie perché ha "ucciso sua madre" , arrivando a pronunciare la frase che vince per distacco il titolo di frase più schifosa della storia quando gli dice, parlando della madre morta dopo atroci sofferenze, "quanto poteva andare ancora avanti? una o due settimane, non potevi aspettare una o due settimane?" Come se quelle due settimane di inutile sofferenza fossero per la morente un divertimento di cui il marito l'ha privata per propria impazienza.
Non parliamo del figlio di quella stessa figlia, uno smorfioso bambino di sei anni che chiama il nonno "nonnino" - vorrei sapere quanti bambini chiamano così i loro nonni - la cui antipatia è però giustificata dall'avere due genitori talmente idioti da non gradire che il nonno ricco costituisca in suo favore un fondo per il pagamento della futura istruzione (non vogliono che abbia un'istruzione di elite), ma da avergli già regalato un ipad a sei anni.
Ci sono, è vero, alcune pagine belle.
Per questo arrivo a due stelline.
parte grottesco, prosegue drammatico e finisce non so neanche come, direi ad un inquietante incrocio fra schizofrenia e mulino bianco, con una figlia - adulta - rimasta da poco orfana di madre. che prima tempesta il padre di lettere in cui implora che lui le parli per elaborare insieme il recente lutto, poi lo copre di ingiurie perché ha "ucciso sua madre" , arrivando a pronunciare la frase che vince per distacco il titolo di frase più schifosa della storia quando gli dice, parlando della madre morta dopo atroci sofferenze, "quanto poteva andare ancora avanti? una o due settimane, non potevi aspettare una o due settimane?" Come se quelle due settimane di inutile sofferenza fossero per la morente un divertimento di cui il marito l'ha privata per propria impazienza.
Non parliamo del figlio di quella stessa figlia, uno smorfioso bambino di sei anni che chiama il nonno "nonnino" - vorrei sapere quanti bambini chiamano così i loro nonni - la cui antipatia è però giustificata dall'avere due genitori talmente idioti da non gradire che il nonno ricco costituisca in suo favore un fondo per il pagamento della futura istruzione (non vogliono che abbia un'istruzione di elite), ma da avergli già regalato un ipad a sei anni.
Ci sono, è vero, alcune pagine belle.
Per questo arrivo a due stelline.
September 5, 2017
I just loved this. James Darke is surely the nicest misanthrope I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting in literature. He’s a widower, getting on in years, and we first meet him as he begins the process of barricading himself in his house so that he will no longer have to interact with a world that has become increasingly hateful to him. Even for a misanthrope his is an extreme reaction but part 2 of the novel gives the reader the reason for his turning his back on other people. And very moving that reason is too. Part 2 is quite a tour de force with some wonderfully evocative writing. The book is an exploration of love, loss and grief. It deals with some very important issues indeed about how we live and how we die. But it’s also very funny at times as well. Darke’s rants are enormously entertaining, especially when he’s having a dig at some of the great names in literature, such as “that frigid snitbag” Virginia Woolf, or Joan D’Idiot) or contemporary figures such as the editor of Private Eye. It doesn’t matter if the reader doesn’t get these references and allusions but it’s great fun if you do. I relished all his put-downs and some of the one-liners made me laugh out loud. And yet there’s empathy here as well, and tenderness and a wish to connect. There’s a wonderful episode when he babysits his grandson. Difficult to maintain his misanthropy when faced with a small boy staying overnight. Because behind all his disdain and anger and resentment there’s a good man, capable of love, and if you read the book to the end you will find him.
July 13, 2017
There is one question all novels and films about curmudgeonly aging men answer for the reader/viewer. How and why did they become such a curmudgeon in the first place? Or, if they don't answer this question clearly, the man is given a happy ending by finding love or perhaps community and we all learn the profundity of the human heart. I'm admittedly not a fan of this fictional variety as you can probably tell (plot twist: maybe I'm the curmudgeon). I have not read A Man Called Ove, nor do I have plans to (maybe I'll see the film, I'm an easily convinced consumer after all). But something pulled me to Darke, and I am beyond happy I gave it a chance.
Darke is written in three parts. In part one the reader gets a sense of how deep the protagonist's peculiarities run. Why would a reader want to stick around after this? Because James Darke is hilarious and bold. This novel leaves all saccharine sentiment behind, and instead offers bright and cutting insight on love, grief, and literature. And just when you think you've figured him out, James Darke surprises you. I won't spoil the last two parts, but I will say we see different sides of James as he navigates his past and present. Darke may answer the question of why, but it steps beyond the coddling boundaries of a cut and dried ending.
Filled with memorable one-liners and insight, Darke left me with that fuzzy feeling of appreciation for a distinct protagonist. I recommend this debut novel heartily!
Darke is written in three parts. In part one the reader gets a sense of how deep the protagonist's peculiarities run. Why would a reader want to stick around after this? Because James Darke is hilarious and bold. This novel leaves all saccharine sentiment behind, and instead offers bright and cutting insight on love, grief, and literature. And just when you think you've figured him out, James Darke surprises you. I won't spoil the last two parts, but I will say we see different sides of James as he navigates his past and present. Darke may answer the question of why, but it steps beyond the coddling boundaries of a cut and dried ending.
Filled with memorable one-liners and insight, Darke left me with that fuzzy feeling of appreciation for a distinct protagonist. I recommend this debut novel heartily!
February 15, 2017
The back story to Rick Gekoski got my attention. He is presently a real life antiquarian bookseller(!) with a varied life background marked by dramatic changes of direction, and diverse interests.
Gekoski's academic background is sound, and his clever promotion of charitable causes through a host of renowned international authors also makes interesting reading.
I thought my own interests in tennis (as a player) and football supporter of an unfashionable team (his being Coventry, mine Bournemouth- don't be deceived by unrepresentative achievements in last three years) would not find many people who are avid literary enthusiasts too.
Stand up Rick Gekoski.
Intriguingly his association with 'proper' works of fiction has impeccable credentials too.
He was a Booker Prize judge in 2005 (John Banville's year) and Chairman of the Man Booker International Prize in 2011 (Philip Roth, controversially, in a process involving resignation of the judge Carmen Callil)
So, how does Darke stack up? Rick Gekoski's debut as a novelist at age 72.
Actually very well indeed. Our protagonist is spiky and anti social, for the main part; but there's enough accuracy in other descriptions (the suffering that comes with terminal illness most notably) to reveal that Rick Gekoski is not limited to writing about misanthropes.
It's tempting to imagine that lots in Darke is autobiographical. At the same time Gekoski has fun writing in fictional prose that’s the very opposite of his real life persona.
p152 "I had always disliked men who his behind beards " (Gekoski is fully bearded!)
P199 on writing and Philip Roth "You will end up writing like Philip Roth. Which novel are you talking about? I can never remember, hard to tell them apart. Something about the Sabbath? I couldn't finish it, horrible protagonist, I couldn't bear him."
Gekosi championed Roth in 2011 in the widely reported Booker int. judging rift. Its apparent too that Gekoski writes about sex, in a no holds barred way, that seems to draw on his admiration for Roth's writing.
Darke isn’t the perfect read, by any means. The various parts of the book are possibly better than the whole. Gekoski does turn a nice phrase, and as you would expect he is a respecter of those people who love reading books
P45 "if you will only read, and listen, you will admit a multiplicity of voices, and points of view, consider them with some humility... then you will grow and change, and each of these voices will become a constituent part of who you become"
As previously noted, with Gekoski then contradicts what he actually believes: p112 all this splashing about in the hot tub of literature merely appropriates the emotions and thoughts of others"
Given Rick Gekoski's age, I don’t know how much more fiction we can expect from him, and whether Darke is his fulfillment as he moved from seller of books, and judge of others, to fully fledged creator of his own fiction.
Maybe he will continue to emulate Philip Roth, who despite the ambiguities in Darke, clearly stands up as a Gekoski inspiration:
Gekoski in 2011, on Philip Roth "In 1959 he writes Goodbye, Columbus and it's a masterpiece, magnificent. Fifty-one years later he's 78 years old and he writes Nemesis and it is so wonderful, such a terrific novel ... Tell me one other writer who 50 years apart writes masterpieces," Gekoski said. "If you look at the trajectory of the average novel writer, there is a learning period, then a period of high achievement, then the talent runs out and in middle age they start slowly to decline. People say why aren't Martin [Amis] and Julian [Barnes] getting on the Booker prize shortlist, but that's what happens in middle age. Philip Roth, though, gets better and better in middle age. In the 1990s he was almost incapable of not writing a masterpiece – The Human Stain, The Plot Against America, I Married a Communist. He was 65-70 years old, what the hell's he doing writing that well?"
Gekoski's academic background is sound, and his clever promotion of charitable causes through a host of renowned international authors also makes interesting reading.
I thought my own interests in tennis (as a player) and football supporter of an unfashionable team (his being Coventry, mine Bournemouth- don't be deceived by unrepresentative achievements in last three years) would not find many people who are avid literary enthusiasts too.
Stand up Rick Gekoski.
Intriguingly his association with 'proper' works of fiction has impeccable credentials too.
He was a Booker Prize judge in 2005 (John Banville's year) and Chairman of the Man Booker International Prize in 2011 (Philip Roth, controversially, in a process involving resignation of the judge Carmen Callil)
So, how does Darke stack up? Rick Gekoski's debut as a novelist at age 72.
Actually very well indeed. Our protagonist is spiky and anti social, for the main part; but there's enough accuracy in other descriptions (the suffering that comes with terminal illness most notably) to reveal that Rick Gekoski is not limited to writing about misanthropes.
It's tempting to imagine that lots in Darke is autobiographical. At the same time Gekoski has fun writing in fictional prose that’s the very opposite of his real life persona.
p152 "I had always disliked men who his behind beards " (Gekoski is fully bearded!)
P199 on writing and Philip Roth "You will end up writing like Philip Roth. Which novel are you talking about? I can never remember, hard to tell them apart. Something about the Sabbath? I couldn't finish it, horrible protagonist, I couldn't bear him."
Gekosi championed Roth in 2011 in the widely reported Booker int. judging rift. Its apparent too that Gekoski writes about sex, in a no holds barred way, that seems to draw on his admiration for Roth's writing.
Darke isn’t the perfect read, by any means. The various parts of the book are possibly better than the whole. Gekoski does turn a nice phrase, and as you would expect he is a respecter of those people who love reading books
P45 "if you will only read, and listen, you will admit a multiplicity of voices, and points of view, consider them with some humility... then you will grow and change, and each of these voices will become a constituent part of who you become"
As previously noted, with Gekoski then contradicts what he actually believes: p112 all this splashing about in the hot tub of literature merely appropriates the emotions and thoughts of others"
Given Rick Gekoski's age, I don’t know how much more fiction we can expect from him, and whether Darke is his fulfillment as he moved from seller of books, and judge of others, to fully fledged creator of his own fiction.
Maybe he will continue to emulate Philip Roth, who despite the ambiguities in Darke, clearly stands up as a Gekoski inspiration:
Gekoski in 2011, on Philip Roth "In 1959 he writes Goodbye, Columbus and it's a masterpiece, magnificent. Fifty-one years later he's 78 years old and he writes Nemesis and it is so wonderful, such a terrific novel ... Tell me one other writer who 50 years apart writes masterpieces," Gekoski said. "If you look at the trajectory of the average novel writer, there is a learning period, then a period of high achievement, then the talent runs out and in middle age they start slowly to decline. People say why aren't Martin [Amis] and Julian [Barnes] getting on the Booker prize shortlist, but that's what happens in middle age. Philip Roth, though, gets better and better in middle age. In the 1990s he was almost incapable of not writing a masterpiece – The Human Stain, The Plot Against America, I Married a Communist. He was 65-70 years old, what the hell's he doing writing that well?"
November 25, 2017
'Darke' may be Rick Gekoski's first novel, but from the opening line to the last I felt as if I was in the hands of a master story-teller. This has to be because Gekoski has led a life immersed in books - as an academic, a rare book dealer and also an author of several non-fiction works - and in the process has somehow soaked up the knowledge of exactly how to go about the novelist's task.
To talk in any detail of the plot itself would give away too much. Suffice it to say, that we are in the head of one Dr James Darke, a character who shares the author's knowledge and love of books, and who appears at first to be an eccentric reclusive. No one is allowed into his house, his head, or his world. Yet he needs to eat and fix things and generally stay alive, which presents certain problems and in the process of describing them Gekoski reveals a wonderful, gentle and highly observant sense of humour. I laughed out loud, even as I began to sense that great misfortune lay behind the situation in which the protagonist finds himself. Though by the end of the book I was as far from laughing as it is possible to be.
For it is only gradually that we realise Dr Darke is a man in the midst of terrible suffering. It turns out he has lost someone he loved and blocking out the world is his coping strategy for his grief. Reality hurts too much. Exactly who he has lost and in what circumstances seeps out as Darke's memories assail him and the outside world starts to muscle its way back in. Darke tries to resist, despite the obvious fact that he is occupying a sort of living death himself and needs to move on in order to survive. The subject is grim, but Gekoski's brilliant writing sweeps us along, offering such an illuminated and wise understanding of the human psyche that I could not turn the pages fast enough.
We root for Darke, that is the other trick Gekoski pulls off. All we want is for this dear man to recover his zest for life. And this is vital, because deep into the narrative there is a bold body-blow of a revelation that demands our loyalty to Darke in order for it to have the right impact. I closed the book thinking hard about right and wrong, and I am still thinking today. We need authors like Gekoski, who can entertain us so skillfully while at the same time tackling the most difficult truths and choices that any of us will ever have to face.
To talk in any detail of the plot itself would give away too much. Suffice it to say, that we are in the head of one Dr James Darke, a character who shares the author's knowledge and love of books, and who appears at first to be an eccentric reclusive. No one is allowed into his house, his head, or his world. Yet he needs to eat and fix things and generally stay alive, which presents certain problems and in the process of describing them Gekoski reveals a wonderful, gentle and highly observant sense of humour. I laughed out loud, even as I began to sense that great misfortune lay behind the situation in which the protagonist finds himself. Though by the end of the book I was as far from laughing as it is possible to be.
For it is only gradually that we realise Dr Darke is a man in the midst of terrible suffering. It turns out he has lost someone he loved and blocking out the world is his coping strategy for his grief. Reality hurts too much. Exactly who he has lost and in what circumstances seeps out as Darke's memories assail him and the outside world starts to muscle its way back in. Darke tries to resist, despite the obvious fact that he is occupying a sort of living death himself and needs to move on in order to survive. The subject is grim, but Gekoski's brilliant writing sweeps us along, offering such an illuminated and wise understanding of the human psyche that I could not turn the pages fast enough.
We root for Darke, that is the other trick Gekoski pulls off. All we want is for this dear man to recover his zest for life. And this is vital, because deep into the narrative there is a bold body-blow of a revelation that demands our loyalty to Darke in order for it to have the right impact. I closed the book thinking hard about right and wrong, and I am still thinking today. We need authors like Gekoski, who can entertain us so skillfully while at the same time tackling the most difficult truths and choices that any of us will ever have to face.
September 12, 2018
James Darke: serial misanthrope, retired teacher of literature to posh boys, and a superior hater of most things in life.
In the first of 3 parts, The Reader finds James imprisoning himself in his own home, going to the extent of having his front door altered to remove knocker or bell and installing a keyhole, thereby keeping at bay his daughter Lucy and her family (although not overly keen on his son-in-law, Sam, the two lumps of sugar he takes with tea provides "an infallible indicator of his working-class roots".
Part 2 is an unsentimental account of the death of his beloved wife Suzy, and explains the reason for his self-imposed exile: well written but painfully vulnerable.
Part 3 details his 'rehabilitation' - in terms of reconciling with Lucy and with a growing attachment with his grandson.
How dark is Darke? Very. However self-lacerating James is, there's often a kernel of humour (usually black) lurking behind.
In the first of 3 parts, The Reader finds James imprisoning himself in his own home, going to the extent of having his front door altered to remove knocker or bell and installing a keyhole, thereby keeping at bay his daughter Lucy and her family (although not overly keen on his son-in-law, Sam, the two lumps of sugar he takes with tea provides "an infallible indicator of his working-class roots".
Part 2 is an unsentimental account of the death of his beloved wife Suzy, and explains the reason for his self-imposed exile: well written but painfully vulnerable.
Part 3 details his 'rehabilitation' - in terms of reconciling with Lucy and with a growing attachment with his grandson.
How dark is Darke? Very. However self-lacerating James is, there's often a kernel of humour (usually black) lurking behind.
August 11, 2018
I was disappointed with this book, and at first I struggled to figure out why. The writing is fine, even excellent in places. And yes the main character is a grumpy old man, but I don't necessarily mind books centered on 'bad' characters, so that wasn't the problem. As the novel progresses and you begin to understand why Darke is so grumpy, I failed to feel any sympathy for him, though I did for his wife. It wasn't so bad that I pitched it across the room (my usual response to really bad books), but I had to force myself to speed-read through the last 1/3 just to get it done. In the end, I think this book didn't work for me because it was all technique and very little story-telling. Much modern fiction falls into this camp, so it's not surprising the author of this work features so highly on judging panels. I like good writing as much as the next gal, but give me a better story, please!
December 27, 2017
I couldn’t finish this book. Slow, you can’t even understand who is talking, sometimes he uses third person past tense, next sentence first present. Maybe I’m too stupid to understand the great poetry of this book, what is sure i’ll leave it here.
February 10, 2024
It's challenging to write, and perhaps even more challenging to read, a story in which the protagonist and main focus is intractable, unapologetic, and pretty much an asshole (I know, I've written several memoirs). However, Gekoski manages it reasonably well here. The titular Darke is a recently widowed curmudgeon who reads like an 85-year old but is actually not quite 70. Is his general disdain for humanity due to the loss of his wife to cancer? Not really. The flashbacks and recollections in his "journal" (this book) seem to show he didn't suffer fools, or pretty much anyone (his own daughter included), gladly even when he was younger.
Though I am not quite as close to the end of the road as James Darke, I can now see it, in the distance, fuzzy, but assuredly no longer a mirage. And I sympathized, perhaps too much, with his distaste for pretty much everything and everyone, to the point where quite literally shutting out the world in its entirety seems the most logical course of action. It's a feeling which can easily metastasize in one's later years.
However, amidst the misanthropy, there is still emotion. The second section of the book deals with the untimely and sudden demise of Darke's wife, a woman every bit as tough and cynical as her husband, and a character seemingly borrowed from a Lionel Shriver novel. This section was visceral and raw, even when told by an utterly unsentimental narrator. Emotion is present, too, in the book's final section, as Darke grudgingly realizes that, as a person not-yet-dead, he must rejoin the world of those around him.
A fascinating character study and a realistic portrait of grief for those of us not inclined to show strong emotions. I look forward to reading the sequel.
Though I am not quite as close to the end of the road as James Darke, I can now see it, in the distance, fuzzy, but assuredly no longer a mirage. And I sympathized, perhaps too much, with his distaste for pretty much everything and everyone, to the point where quite literally shutting out the world in its entirety seems the most logical course of action. It's a feeling which can easily metastasize in one's later years.
However, amidst the misanthropy, there is still emotion. The second section of the book deals with the untimely and sudden demise of Darke's wife, a woman every bit as tough and cynical as her husband, and a character seemingly borrowed from a Lionel Shriver novel. This section was visceral and raw, even when told by an utterly unsentimental narrator. Emotion is present, too, in the book's final section, as Darke grudgingly realizes that, as a person not-yet-dead, he must rejoin the world of those around him.
A fascinating character study and a realistic portrait of grief for those of us not inclined to show strong emotions. I look forward to reading the sequel.
March 27, 2017
I must have read a review of 'Darke' that ticked all the right boxes...bibliophile...grumpy...recluse...Dickens and thought 'yes, that's just the ticket for a poolside read.' Light and shade folks, light and shade.
The first few pages irked me. A touch too prose-y and tricksy and I just thought 'pah, you need to tone down your smarts Sonny Jim' and then I realised I was just jealous.
Darke is written the way I'd love to write if I could write. About the sorts of people I'd love to write about. And in the 10 hours or so since I finished it, I have liked it more and more. Like a haircut that's better the second day.
It's a slight little thing and not all together cheery (the clue is in the first sentence of this review) but it's clever. And it's a book. And it's a clever book that should be published and that should be read. I hope people do.
The first few pages irked me. A touch too prose-y and tricksy and I just thought 'pah, you need to tone down your smarts Sonny Jim' and then I realised I was just jealous.
Darke is written the way I'd love to write if I could write. About the sorts of people I'd love to write about. And in the 10 hours or so since I finished it, I have liked it more and more. Like a haircut that's better the second day.
It's a slight little thing and not all together cheery (the clue is in the first sentence of this review) but it's clever. And it's a book. And it's a clever book that should be published and that should be read. I hope people do.
February 16, 2018
What to say about James Darke? Is he an antihero like Hendrik Groen or merely a grumpy old man not willing to face life? Well he's a bit of both. When life hands him the ultimate kick in the proverbials, the loss of his wife, he decides to shut himself away from life....a life that includes a daughter mourning the loss of her mother. But he has decided to forsake even her and attempts complete seclusion. But life has a way of inching its way back in.
Darke actually touched me in ways I didn't expect. I recognised so much of my own experiences with losing someone close and seeing someone shut themselves off. Not to this extreme but still it resonated. And that amongst other reasons means this book, and James himself will stay with me a long time. Beautifully written, sometimes gently funny, often unbearably sad this is already one of my favourite books of this year.
Darke actually touched me in ways I didn't expect. I recognised so much of my own experiences with losing someone close and seeing someone shut themselves off. Not to this extreme but still it resonated. And that amongst other reasons means this book, and James himself will stay with me a long time. Beautifully written, sometimes gently funny, often unbearably sad this is already one of my favourite books of this year.
January 17, 2018
For quite a while during the first part, I was almost on the point of quitting reading it. But I persevered, and glad I did.
Bit by bit Darke's story becomes clearer until we understand why he cut himself off from his family.
It seemed to me that the first third of the book was about the present and how this angry, silent man shut himself off from everyone, refusing to even open his daughter's letters.
The second part explained the past, and how Darke arrived at his present solitude after his wife's painful and lingering death.
The third part is the future. He finally contacts his daughter, and the reason for his agonizing and despair is finally revealed through angry confrontations with her.
Eventually he does allow his daughter and grandson to become part of his life.
Bit by bit Darke's story becomes clearer until we understand why he cut himself off from his family.
It seemed to me that the first third of the book was about the present and how this angry, silent man shut himself off from everyone, refusing to even open his daughter's letters.
The second part explained the past, and how Darke arrived at his present solitude after his wife's painful and lingering death.
The third part is the future. He finally contacts his daughter, and the reason for his agonizing and despair is finally revealed through angry confrontations with her.
Eventually he does allow his daughter and grandson to become part of his life.
May 16, 2019
In the first part, we meet aging misanthrope Dr. James Darke whose razor-sharp wit and powers of observation had me nodding and laughing out loud. Set in contemporary England, he vamps insightfully on various modern “conveniences”, a deft critique of our present world... in the second part we learn how he got to his self-imposed exile with his wife’s death and the disillusionment with his writerly academic career. I enjoyed the first part the most but in the latter half he looses some gems on work, love, memory, death, and the role of literature in our understanding of life. A rewarding ride.
December 24, 2020
Gekoski writes like a dream. Darke is an acerbic and bleak character full of fantastically cruel turns of phrase and observations about his fellow humans. As you learn more you see his fragility and weakness; and the more you begin to understand why he is who he is. A fantastic read.
May 29, 2024
Although I disliked and despised James Darke, I suspect this book will remain with me for some time.
It’s a dismal and depressing read until Part 3 when this grieving isolate begins to emerge from his self-imposed incarceration.
Its a layered story of love, death and grief in which the main character shares his (often scathing) opinion of art and literature and cars. His ‘thoughts’ are interspersed with references to famous and not so famous authors as he immerses himself in grief.
By the end of the novel he remains an unlikeable, condescending snob, but a slightly redeemed one.
It’s a dismal and depressing read until Part 3 when this grieving isolate begins to emerge from his self-imposed incarceration.
Its a layered story of love, death and grief in which the main character shares his (often scathing) opinion of art and literature and cars. His ‘thoughts’ are interspersed with references to famous and not so famous authors as he immerses himself in grief.
By the end of the novel he remains an unlikeable, condescending snob, but a slightly redeemed one.
July 10, 2021
Un divario tra come l'autore si presenta e come in realtà è. Quando ho iniziato a leggere questo libro la mia considerazione era:
"Questo libro è stato scritto da un emergente di 14 anni al suo primo esperimento letterario, da un adolescente in piena crisi, ormonale ed esistenziale che ce l'ha con il mondo intero!"
Ahimè nel momento in cui ho sbirciato la biografia dell'autore ho amaramente constatato che l'autore era: adulto, docente universitario, membro della giuria del Booker Prize e autore di programmi sui libri per la BBC. Apriti o cielo, si salvi chi può a questo punto! Se perfino un docente universitario scrive così da cani, chi può farcela a questo mondo?
Ma questa è la riprova che scrivere altro non è che un talento, un dono e se non ce l'hai, puoi raggiungere tutti i traguardi che vuoi, ma avrai sempre quel quid in meno rispetto a chi davvero è nato "con la penna in mano" come si suol dire. Certo, poi ci sono studio ed esercizio, ma in questo caso mancano pure quelli, in quanto vengono ignorati un sacco di accorgimenti elementari che si apprenderebbe anche solo leggendo libri.
Partiamo dal primo elemento fuori luogo, che rende l'autore già antipatico fin dalla prima pagina: l'uso smodato del turpiloquio. Dal momento che il narratore coincide con il protagonista (docente pure lui), l'autore ha ben pensato di renderlo più simpatico ai giovani d'oggi perché insomma, se riempi un testo di parolacce non solo sei "figo", ma ti assicuri il plauso della massa di pecore. Il problema è che il romanzo tratta di un tema assai delicato e molto difficile e il turpiloquio è veramente una trovata stilistica cafona e di cattivo gusto. Non siamo in una commedia di Aristofane o Plauto, perciò direi che si poteva evitare.
In secondo luogo, il libro manca di una struttura narrativa precisa e delineata. I passaggi tra falshback e presente non sono chiari e lo stacco non si palesa che al lettore parecchie righe dopo essere cominciato. Il risultato è quello di un "flusso continuo" francamente sgradevole che rende difficoltosa la lettura e la comprensione di essa.
Terzo: il libro tratta in sé tanti temi quali l'eutanasia, il rapporto padre e figlia, il dolore, la morte, la sofferenza, la malattia. Temi che però vengono presentati alla rinfusa, gettati nel mucchio narrativo in modo disordinato. La percezione che ha il lettore è quella di trovarsi di fronte ad uno studente di prima media con tante idee in testa, ma totalmente incapace di ordinarle e di conferire loro una forma corretta dal punto di vista narratologico e strutturale. Insomma, siamo all'elenco della spesa di argomenti che capisco essere in voga oggi, ma che meriterebbero, proprio per la loro importanza e profondità, un'attenzione più rigorosa e una sensibilità che non sia quella di un bufalo che tenta di scrivere con un pennino su un foglio di pergamena.
Quarto: in presenza di temi così importanti e attuali, sarebbe quantomeno auspicabile che il pensiero dell'autore si palesi. Per scrivere di un dato argomento, bisognerebbe come minimo avere una propria opinione su esso (anche conoscerlo, ma in questo caso non entro nel merito). Non è il caso di questo libro, dal momento che pare che l'autore abbia scelto questi temi non per una ragione meditata o simbolica, per trarne un arricchimento e portare la sua personale voce o per far scattare una riflessione, bensì perché sono argomenti che di fatto, appartenendo agli onori della nostra cronaca, attirano, fanno audience.
Quinto: l'opera (quindi anche il suo autore) parte da un presupposto arrogante, ovvero quello di parlare dei suddetti temi in modo "alternativo", credendo pure di risultare originale, quando invece il risultato è quello di fare la figura degli analfabeti e degli insensibili. Parlare di bioetica non è e non sarà mai semplice, né la bioetica è del resto un argomento da buttare in caciara o liquidare con qualche scenetta da teatrino patetico trita e ritrita. Della serie, aggiungiamo qualche frase fatta qua e là così facciamo vedere di esserci informati. Peccato che chi sia realmente informato su questi temi poi sgami subito la lacuna.
Altro argomento cardine del romanzo che però non viene sviluppato come se l'autore si fosse improvvisamente dimenticato che era quella la sua intenzione iniziale è il volontario isolamento di James Darke il protagonista. Isolamento che parte di gran lena e fa presagire al lettore che il protagonista intraprenderà chissà quale percorso di formazione, o di conoscenza verso sé stesso. Invece rimane in una posizione di stallo, stile battaglia della Grande Guerra, non è eroico, ma non è nemmeno anti-eroico. Semplicemente infimo. Un personaggio del quale ti dimentichi facilmente e dal quale non puoi sperare di imparare nulla di nuovo o interessante.
Che dire, è preoccupante che il livello qualitativo di un'opera che tra l'altro ha la pretesa di uscire da una persona impegnata nel mondo della cultura (e che giudichi pure le opere degli altri) sia estremamente basso e scarso. Inspiegabile che sia il prodotto di chi nella vita è già arrivato. Inspiegabile come sia finito nel catalogo Bompiani. In questo caso, una riscrittura sarebbe l'ideale.
"Questo libro è stato scritto da un emergente di 14 anni al suo primo esperimento letterario, da un adolescente in piena crisi, ormonale ed esistenziale che ce l'ha con il mondo intero!"
Ahimè nel momento in cui ho sbirciato la biografia dell'autore ho amaramente constatato che l'autore era: adulto, docente universitario, membro della giuria del Booker Prize e autore di programmi sui libri per la BBC. Apriti o cielo, si salvi chi può a questo punto! Se perfino un docente universitario scrive così da cani, chi può farcela a questo mondo?
Ma questa è la riprova che scrivere altro non è che un talento, un dono e se non ce l'hai, puoi raggiungere tutti i traguardi che vuoi, ma avrai sempre quel quid in meno rispetto a chi davvero è nato "con la penna in mano" come si suol dire. Certo, poi ci sono studio ed esercizio, ma in questo caso mancano pure quelli, in quanto vengono ignorati un sacco di accorgimenti elementari che si apprenderebbe anche solo leggendo libri.
Partiamo dal primo elemento fuori luogo, che rende l'autore già antipatico fin dalla prima pagina: l'uso smodato del turpiloquio. Dal momento che il narratore coincide con il protagonista (docente pure lui), l'autore ha ben pensato di renderlo più simpatico ai giovani d'oggi perché insomma, se riempi un testo di parolacce non solo sei "figo", ma ti assicuri il plauso della massa di pecore. Il problema è che il romanzo tratta di un tema assai delicato e molto difficile e il turpiloquio è veramente una trovata stilistica cafona e di cattivo gusto. Non siamo in una commedia di Aristofane o Plauto, perciò direi che si poteva evitare.
In secondo luogo, il libro manca di una struttura narrativa precisa e delineata. I passaggi tra falshback e presente non sono chiari e lo stacco non si palesa che al lettore parecchie righe dopo essere cominciato. Il risultato è quello di un "flusso continuo" francamente sgradevole che rende difficoltosa la lettura e la comprensione di essa.
Terzo: il libro tratta in sé tanti temi quali l'eutanasia, il rapporto padre e figlia, il dolore, la morte, la sofferenza, la malattia. Temi che però vengono presentati alla rinfusa, gettati nel mucchio narrativo in modo disordinato. La percezione che ha il lettore è quella di trovarsi di fronte ad uno studente di prima media con tante idee in testa, ma totalmente incapace di ordinarle e di conferire loro una forma corretta dal punto di vista narratologico e strutturale. Insomma, siamo all'elenco della spesa di argomenti che capisco essere in voga oggi, ma che meriterebbero, proprio per la loro importanza e profondità, un'attenzione più rigorosa e una sensibilità che non sia quella di un bufalo che tenta di scrivere con un pennino su un foglio di pergamena.
Quarto: in presenza di temi così importanti e attuali, sarebbe quantomeno auspicabile che il pensiero dell'autore si palesi. Per scrivere di un dato argomento, bisognerebbe come minimo avere una propria opinione su esso (anche conoscerlo, ma in questo caso non entro nel merito). Non è il caso di questo libro, dal momento che pare che l'autore abbia scelto questi temi non per una ragione meditata o simbolica, per trarne un arricchimento e portare la sua personale voce o per far scattare una riflessione, bensì perché sono argomenti che di fatto, appartenendo agli onori della nostra cronaca, attirano, fanno audience.
Quinto: l'opera (quindi anche il suo autore) parte da un presupposto arrogante, ovvero quello di parlare dei suddetti temi in modo "alternativo", credendo pure di risultare originale, quando invece il risultato è quello di fare la figura degli analfabeti e degli insensibili. Parlare di bioetica non è e non sarà mai semplice, né la bioetica è del resto un argomento da buttare in caciara o liquidare con qualche scenetta da teatrino patetico trita e ritrita. Della serie, aggiungiamo qualche frase fatta qua e là così facciamo vedere di esserci informati. Peccato che chi sia realmente informato su questi temi poi sgami subito la lacuna.
Altro argomento cardine del romanzo che però non viene sviluppato come se l'autore si fosse improvvisamente dimenticato che era quella la sua intenzione iniziale è il volontario isolamento di James Darke il protagonista. Isolamento che parte di gran lena e fa presagire al lettore che il protagonista intraprenderà chissà quale percorso di formazione, o di conoscenza verso sé stesso. Invece rimane in una posizione di stallo, stile battaglia della Grande Guerra, non è eroico, ma non è nemmeno anti-eroico. Semplicemente infimo. Un personaggio del quale ti dimentichi facilmente e dal quale non puoi sperare di imparare nulla di nuovo o interessante.
Che dire, è preoccupante che il livello qualitativo di un'opera che tra l'altro ha la pretesa di uscire da una persona impegnata nel mondo della cultura (e che giudichi pure le opere degli altri) sia estremamente basso e scarso. Inspiegabile che sia il prodotto di chi nella vita è già arrivato. Inspiegabile come sia finito nel catalogo Bompiani. In questo caso, una riscrittura sarebbe l'ideale.
August 13, 2020
Brilliantly written, funny and deeply engaging. It tops Howard Jacobson's best novels.
August 20, 2025
Una lettura totalmente fuori dalla mia zona di comfort che mi ha così tanto stupito ed emozionato, da farmi adorare questo libro. Nonostante il protagonista non faccia che rimarcare i suoi "difetti" e mostri senza esitazione il suo lato più cinico, è riuscito a conquistare il mio affetto. Probabile che la passione comune per i libri, la letteratura inglese e il "caratteraccio" abbiano incentivato questa dinamica; sta di fatto che James Darke mi ha permesso di affrontare un tema che cerco di evitare il più possibile. Tra qualche risata, riflessione e diverse lacrime mi sono trovata anche a mettermi in discussione e chiedermi, infine, se Darke altro non fosse che uno dei "fantasmi" di Dickens? Probabilmente vaneggio... sta di fatto che per me questo libro, acquistato un po' a caso durante una promozione "2 libri a 9,90€", ha decisamente guadagnato il suo posto nella mia libreria.
September 21, 2018
If Dostoyevsky's Underground Man were an English professor, he would probably be a lot like James Darke: anti-social, urbane, smarmy, as full of contempt for himself as he is for the world. What he would lack though is Darke's abiding sense of humor and irony and his love for the small circle to which he is connected, in spite of himself. I alternated between being put off to the point of putting down and being engrossed and enraptured by this character. The hook behind this novel is that the author wrote this, his first foray into fiction, when he was in his 70s. That's interesting of course but no reason to read the book. A good reason to read it is that the reader is introduced to an unforgettable character, a most unlovely but nevertheless almost always entertaining anti-hero. Like some other readers I almost lost patience with this novel with its single point of view, but the author brings in enough other voices and injects so much insight and nasty humor into Dr. Darke's pronouncements that he becomes like a party guest that you at once loathe because he is such an arrogant ass, and yet keep listening to because he is so dammed witty and honest. I am glad I stayed with it. Recommended.
April 1, 2018
I discontinued reading this book because in the seventy pages I did read, nothing intrigued me enough to go on. I didn't see a hint of a story and I need to say, if the author is hiding an amazing plot somewhere, well, too bad to think I will sit waiting for the grand plot to magically emerge. Chronology is a tangled mess and everything is just confusing. Very disappointing.
I know seventy pages aren't nearly enough to unravel a book, but not a single thing in these pages excited me to continue.
I know seventy pages aren't nearly enough to unravel a book, but not a single thing in these pages excited me to continue.
March 5, 2019
Writing a book with a main character that is very easy to dislike, yet making it so you are empathetic towards him is a true accomplishment. Darke is not your throw some words at a piece of paper and call it a day kind of book. I would consider it very well thought out.
July 21, 2021
Rinchiudersi nel dolore, non solo mentalmente, ma con ogni mezzo possibile. James Darke decide di barricarsi in casa e tagliare ogni contatto col mondo in seguito a un lutto, ignorando le lettere di collaboratori e amici e persino della sua adorata figlia. Isolato da tutto e tutti, solo lui e la sua sofferenza a riempire le giornate. Ma quanto può durare un uomo da solo?
• Ho acquistato "Darke" perché incuriosita dalla trama che prometteva un pizzico di mistero e questioni irrisolte da scoprire. Purtroppo, però, nulla di tutto questo c'è stato: la storia, pur partendo con la curiosità di conoscere James Darke e la sua eccentricità, si rivela lineare, svelando ben presto il motivo per cui il protagonista si sta isolando.
• Nella prima parte del libro seguiamo i pensieri sconnessi dell'uomo che in qualche modo riescono a ricostruire la sua vita: la sua professione, le sue passioni, le sue fissazioni, ciò che lo infastidisce (c'è l'imbarazzo della scelta) e ciò che lo rende felice (ben poco, per il momento). Inizialmente è difficile seguire e ricostruire la sua vita, capendo quali eventi fanno parte del passato e quali del presente. Ho avuto difficoltà ad appassionarmi alla storia quando ho capito che non sarebbe successo nulla più di ciò che era già stato raccontato e anticipato tra le righe.
• La storia offre comunque diversi spunti di riflessione interessanti, elucubrazioni più o meno profonde del protagonista e taglienti spaccati della realtà vista da un uomo che sembra non avere più alcun motivo per vivere una vita normale. Almeno dal suo punto di vista. Ma qualcuno è pronto a fargli cambiare idea.
• La seconda parte del libro acquista molto più fascino, ma bisogna comunque superare le prime 200 pagine per arrivarvi. Alla fine si è rivelata una lettura interessante, ma una prima parte troppo caotica e lenta ha un po' rallentato il ritmo della lettura.
• Non me la sento di sconsigliare il libro perché sicuramente dipende dal gusto di chi legge, ma non è tra i migliori del genere. Provatelo se volete conoscere questo autore e se vi piacciono le storie di vita quotidiana che raccontano la realtà delle cose "normali" e del riscoprire sé stessi con occhi diversi.
• Ho acquistato "Darke" perché incuriosita dalla trama che prometteva un pizzico di mistero e questioni irrisolte da scoprire. Purtroppo, però, nulla di tutto questo c'è stato: la storia, pur partendo con la curiosità di conoscere James Darke e la sua eccentricità, si rivela lineare, svelando ben presto il motivo per cui il protagonista si sta isolando.
• Nella prima parte del libro seguiamo i pensieri sconnessi dell'uomo che in qualche modo riescono a ricostruire la sua vita: la sua professione, le sue passioni, le sue fissazioni, ciò che lo infastidisce (c'è l'imbarazzo della scelta) e ciò che lo rende felice (ben poco, per il momento). Inizialmente è difficile seguire e ricostruire la sua vita, capendo quali eventi fanno parte del passato e quali del presente. Ho avuto difficoltà ad appassionarmi alla storia quando ho capito che non sarebbe successo nulla più di ciò che era già stato raccontato e anticipato tra le righe.
• La storia offre comunque diversi spunti di riflessione interessanti, elucubrazioni più o meno profonde del protagonista e taglienti spaccati della realtà vista da un uomo che sembra non avere più alcun motivo per vivere una vita normale. Almeno dal suo punto di vista. Ma qualcuno è pronto a fargli cambiare idea.
• La seconda parte del libro acquista molto più fascino, ma bisogna comunque superare le prime 200 pagine per arrivarvi. Alla fine si è rivelata una lettura interessante, ma una prima parte troppo caotica e lenta ha un po' rallentato il ritmo della lettura.
• Non me la sento di sconsigliare il libro perché sicuramente dipende dal gusto di chi legge, ma non è tra i migliori del genere. Provatelo se volete conoscere questo autore e se vi piacciono le storie di vita quotidiana che raccontano la realtà delle cose "normali" e del riscoprire sé stessi con occhi diversi.
January 20, 2021
James Darke is a grumpy retired teacher of English Literature at a public boys school. Isolating himself from the world at large and from those who love him he sets about dealing with grief and wallowing in it. It is a very slight story and not one to revel in plot intricacies or very many thrills whatsoever. Despite which this isn't about what happens in his life although there are amusing vignettes that pry into his character so much as one about retrospection and introspection even though he is only in his sixties. This is a story about what makes us human as we witness his unravelling. This is a story about how ordinary people choose and manage to live and die. This first piece of fiction from Rick Gekoski is extremely well written and basks in the writing and meaning of words often explored at length. I really enjoyed the slow leisurely pace of this book as I came to understand James Darke. He isn't however all that ordinary compared to most people these days, as his background in academia and of more than modest means indicates. It almost puts him in a time less written about these days. I think it is meant to be set now (ish) but it is definitely stuck in the past and emphasising how the main character is too. The fact that very little takes place does allow the author to explore at length his principle, one who is all the more interesting for that examination and one that becomes even more real for doing so. This book really worked for me and the only criticism that I can level is the ending which while charming is too slight. It just ends rather too abruptly for me. I wanted more and I do now see that there is another book about James Darke which I'll most certainly have to search out.
March 7, 2024
5 stars for Part 1 and Part 2
1.5 Stars for Part 3.........
A book that starts with amazing passages of deep dark and depressive writing, a character desperate for isolation while finding occasional consolation with other people, followed by an exploration of the grim realities of caring for a terminally ill person.
I thought the author gave life to the main character, and the flashback stories of his wife really rounded out who James Darke was/is, and it made the book really engrossing.
Where I feel it fell over was how easily he went from the depths of hell/grief/remorse (I'll back myself in my journal but will repent and be sorry when confronted) to smelling tulips in the garden with his daughter in what felt like a matter of pages. Then came the drawn-out pages of 'sleep well my angel' to his grandson that didn't really feel like it was going anywhere...
(Maybe it's because I'm not from England, but do children talk like this?)
I understand the character needed an arc and to change and to rediscover what happiness and life is, but I felt it turned campy quickly and dreaded whenever the dialogue started.
If the book remained a deep exploration into the mind of someone who went through the unthinkable, wallowed in his grief, questioned what it all means and stuck to the long stretches of inner monologue where his dark thoughts are spewed into his journal then I would have enjoyed this more.
As Suzy tells us in the pages, the first book is never the best, but I appreciate Rick putting pencil to paper.
My question is, do I commit to continuing the series?
JS
1.5 Stars for Part 3.........
A book that starts with amazing passages of deep dark and depressive writing, a character desperate for isolation while finding occasional consolation with other people, followed by an exploration of the grim realities of caring for a terminally ill person.
I thought the author gave life to the main character, and the flashback stories of his wife really rounded out who James Darke was/is, and it made the book really engrossing.
Where I feel it fell over was how easily he went from the depths of hell/grief/remorse (I'll back myself in my journal but will repent and be sorry when confronted) to smelling tulips in the garden with his daughter in what felt like a matter of pages. Then came the drawn-out pages of 'sleep well my angel' to his grandson that didn't really feel like it was going anywhere...
(Maybe it's because I'm not from England, but do children talk like this?)
I understand the character needed an arc and to change and to rediscover what happiness and life is, but I felt it turned campy quickly and dreaded whenever the dialogue started.
If the book remained a deep exploration into the mind of someone who went through the unthinkable, wallowed in his grief, questioned what it all means and stuck to the long stretches of inner monologue where his dark thoughts are spewed into his journal then I would have enjoyed this more.
As Suzy tells us in the pages, the first book is never the best, but I appreciate Rick putting pencil to paper.
My question is, do I commit to continuing the series?
JS
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 2, 2019
Grief is the thing with a solid Georgian door with only a spyglass between the outside world and the dark, gloomy inside. Darke by Rick Gekoski is about James Darke and the deep grief he feels in the wake of his wife's death. When the book opens, he's getting his door retrofitted, and shutting himself away, we don't know why. Who we meet is James Darke, a former school teacher, and a misanthrope extraordinaire. Darke has an opinion about everything, and it's usually negative. But also funny. Darke has a mouth on him that's he's not afraid to use. He's a curmudgeon, and not a cuddly one. If he was only railing against the world, against literature, light, nature, his neighbor, his neighbor's dog, cats, Charles Dickens' wife, it might be entertaining but probably not enough. Underneath, you get the sense of his unhappiness, and little by little, a fissure of light is let through. It's when Darke opens up about his wife's slow, painful death from lung cancer (the cause for his hermit-like behavior), and how he couldn't face the world, even his beloved daughter, that a deeper empathy forms. Darke doesn't change his attitudes, but his ways do start to change, allowing life to reenter, and for him to reenter life. A late scene with his grandson is immensely touching, not least of all because of all the love that Darke can give. Gekoski makes us aware of Darke's shortcomings (as Darke himself is aware), and his human fallibility, but allows for the expansiveness of Darke and his emotional arc, all without losing who Darke inherently is. It's always darkest before the dawn.
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