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Arkady
Brothers Jackson and Frank live on the margins of a big urban sprawl. From abandoned tower blocks to gleaming skyscrapers, their city is brutal, beautiful and divided. As tensions bubble to the surface and the teeming metropolis is pushed to the brink, the young brothers sail off in search of the Red Citadel and its promise of another way of life. A portrait of modern urban living, Patrick Langley’s debut Arkady is a brilliant coming-of-age novel as brimming with vitality as the city itself.
240 pages, Paperback
First published March 1, 2018
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May 12, 2018
My brother had begun to teach me about the world and our place within it, how we lived in the shadows, unwanted, unseen. We were kids who came from nothing, were nothing. The city would only make room for us if we forced it to, the way you force a door with a crowbar, or use plumber’s freeze to smash a lock:
these little acts were ways of opening space to breathe in a city that didn’t want us, wouldn’t protect us, narrowed choices to a flatline.
Arkady is a debut novel, published by perhaps my favourite press, Fitzcarraldo Editions, "an independent publisher specialising in contemporary fiction and long-form essays [which] focuses on ambitious, imaginative and innovative writing, both in translation and in the English language", with their distinctive blue books, with French flaps and custom typeface, but unusual for their output as their first debut novel.
It is the story of two brothers Jackson and Frank, as they grow up together over 25 or so years (Frank is a baby when the novel begins, and 'not yet 30' when it ends), set in a 'ever so slightly dystopian' (per the publisher) city, a version of present-day London, and told in 6 episodic chapters.
The opening chapter, ANOTHER COUNTRY, give us the family history, albeit told through Jackson's slightly confused perspective as a child. On a family holiday in Spain, we realise that the boys mother has apparently drowned which also causes their father to go off the rails:
A fan stirs the room’s thick heat as the officers talk. Jackson wags his legs under the chair and watches his shoes as they swing. The officers speak about beaches. A pathway. Red flags. The story does not make sense. When they finish it, Jackson looks up. The door is open. It frames a stretch of shrivelled lawn and a column of cloudless sky. Colours throb in the heat.
‘Do you understand?’ the woman asks.
‘We are sorry,’ says the man.
Blue uniforms cling to their arms. Black caps are perched on their heads. Jackson peers into the caps’ plastic rims, which slide with vague shadows and smears of light. The officers mutter to each other and swap glances with hooded eyes. The breeze through the door is like dog-breath, a damp heat that smells faintly of rot.
‘Where’s my dad?’ asks Jackson.
The man’s thumb is hooked through his belt. He stands like a cowboy, hips cocked.
‘We don’t know,’ he sighs. ‘Our colleague saw him a moment after. We’re sure he’ll come back soon. You have a small brother? We take you to the place, and you tell him. Tell him your father is coming back. We’ll find him. I promise. Right now.’
They are staying on the side of a mountain, a short but twisting drive away from the nearest coastal town. The hotel is enormous. From a distance it resembles a castle, its high walls strong and stern, its red roofs bright against the mountain’s grey. The valley below is dotted with scrubby bushes and half-finished breezeblock homes. At its centre, a dried-up riverbed runs through copses of stunted trees: a jagged path connecting the hotel to the town.
Frank is in the crèche with the other toddlers.
(the distinctive description very characteristic of what is a very visual novel)
The story then moves back to the city and forward in time in LESSONS, where Frank and Jackson live in a flat with an elder man Leonard (their father doesn't feature in the story thereafter). The Lehman Brothers failure of 2008, or a version thereof, has just happened and this is a city where neo-liberal forces and gleaming skyscapers conflict with urban wasteland and anti-establishment protesters.
While the city portrayed is indeed 'ever so slightly dystopian, it is interesting to compare it to Langley's real world description of East London, in the shadows of the financial centre of Canary Wharf, from an interview in the White Review:
The boys attend school at the Northern District Institute where Frank has a particular talent for art, but they often skip school so Jackson can give him lessons in urban survival (as per the opening quote) and also encourage Frank's artistic imaginings of a better future.
And then there is the man Frank repeatedly draws, in notebooks and on corridor walls, a looming figure with a blank, faceless head and a blue-and-white striped shirt. Frank insists the man, called Arkady is real; that he visits him in his dreams: a strange protector or vengeful foe. Frank began drawing him a while back, around the time the brothers moved into Leonard’s flat.
The book includes reproductions of some of these drawings.
After Leonard passes out of the story (perhaps having passed away) the boys find an abandoned canal boat, in A FLOATING HOME, which they refurbish and rename, inevitably, Arkady. Though they see themselves very much as loners - them against the world - they find themselves caught up in an anti-establishment protest, where they rescue one protestor, Lali, from the 'asters' (black helicopters) and 'lifters' (establishment thugs)
‘We do stuff.’ Frank shrugs, defensive, wishing Lali would shut up. ‘We go out. We don’t get involved. Sometimes it gets involved with us. We didn’t have to help you out but we did.’
‘It was a protest,’ Lali snaps, ‘with political aims. Do you even know what it was for, what we wanted to achieve?’
Frank shakes his head. She throws her hands up and sighs.
‘What’s the Citadel?’ Frank asks. He pictures am obsidian fortress surrounded by crackling storm clouds.
‘It’s a place,’ says Lali, ‘a long way north. They’ve been fighting he state for months. They organised the protest tonight.’
In part as Jackson is infatuated with Lali, they decide to take their boat along the canal system and out of the city, to find the RED CITADEL, which turns out to be a former self-storage block, a temple to consumer stupidity, the land around it owned by a multi-national developer, just one serpent head of the hydra of bel-liberal greed (in the final chapter, the much older Frank admits such opinions now make him cringe). It is now occupied by the sort of anarchoic pseudo-democratic (albeit rejecting conventional democracy) pro-socio-economic-justice anti-neoliberal group familiar today from the Occupy movement, and the boys are caught up in the violence when the developer, with legal backing and physical backing from security forces, attempts to reclaim the building for development.
This part reminded me strongly of the eco-anarchists in Richard Powers' recent The Overstory (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...), and just as in that book the ostensibly non-violent protesters actually themselves engender violence but here Jackson and Frank, somewhat semi-detached, are more aware of the inherent contradictions: the protest leader comes from a rich family and steeped himself in anarchist philosophies in a red brick university and as the authorities move in, it is the protestors who first kick-off leading to this rather bittersweet exchange:
“We aren’t alone,” said Lali, “we started something.”
“We started throwing rocks," said Jackson.
The final quarter of the novel relates the boys' story as they flee from the scene in Arkady (FIRST LIGHT), and then revisits Frank years later (WHITE BIRDS) as he looks back on the events.
In less than 200 pages Langley manages to both create a compelling view of post financial-crisis dystopia and protest and provide a moving portrait of brotherly love. A powerful and haunting book, one that will stay with me, and one I hope gets the critical attention it deserves as I would love to discuss it further with other readers.
these little acts were ways of opening space to breathe in a city that didn’t want us, wouldn’t protect us, narrowed choices to a flatline.
Arkady is a debut novel, published by perhaps my favourite press, Fitzcarraldo Editions, "an independent publisher specialising in contemporary fiction and long-form essays [which] focuses on ambitious, imaginative and innovative writing, both in translation and in the English language", with their distinctive blue books, with French flaps and custom typeface, but unusual for their output as their first debut novel.
It is the story of two brothers Jackson and Frank, as they grow up together over 25 or so years (Frank is a baby when the novel begins, and 'not yet 30' when it ends), set in a 'ever so slightly dystopian' (per the publisher) city, a version of present-day London, and told in 6 episodic chapters.
The opening chapter, ANOTHER COUNTRY, give us the family history, albeit told through Jackson's slightly confused perspective as a child. On a family holiday in Spain, we realise that the boys mother has apparently drowned which also causes their father to go off the rails:
A fan stirs the room’s thick heat as the officers talk. Jackson wags his legs under the chair and watches his shoes as they swing. The officers speak about beaches. A pathway. Red flags. The story does not make sense. When they finish it, Jackson looks up. The door is open. It frames a stretch of shrivelled lawn and a column of cloudless sky. Colours throb in the heat.
‘Do you understand?’ the woman asks.
‘We are sorry,’ says the man.
Blue uniforms cling to their arms. Black caps are perched on their heads. Jackson peers into the caps’ plastic rims, which slide with vague shadows and smears of light. The officers mutter to each other and swap glances with hooded eyes. The breeze through the door is like dog-breath, a damp heat that smells faintly of rot.
‘Where’s my dad?’ asks Jackson.
The man’s thumb is hooked through his belt. He stands like a cowboy, hips cocked.
‘We don’t know,’ he sighs. ‘Our colleague saw him a moment after. We’re sure he’ll come back soon. You have a small brother? We take you to the place, and you tell him. Tell him your father is coming back. We’ll find him. I promise. Right now.’
They are staying on the side of a mountain, a short but twisting drive away from the nearest coastal town. The hotel is enormous. From a distance it resembles a castle, its high walls strong and stern, its red roofs bright against the mountain’s grey. The valley below is dotted with scrubby bushes and half-finished breezeblock homes. At its centre, a dried-up riverbed runs through copses of stunted trees: a jagged path connecting the hotel to the town.
Frank is in the crèche with the other toddlers.
(the distinctive description very characteristic of what is a very visual novel)
The story then moves back to the city and forward in time in LESSONS, where Frank and Jackson live in a flat with an elder man Leonard (their father doesn't feature in the story thereafter). The Lehman Brothers failure of 2008, or a version thereof, has just happened and this is a city where neo-liberal forces and gleaming skyscapers conflict with urban wasteland and anti-establishment protesters.
While the city portrayed is indeed 'ever so slightly dystopian, it is interesting to compare it to Langley's real world description of East London, in the shadows of the financial centre of Canary Wharf, from an interview in the White Review:
The train approaches Silvertown, a tapestry of brownfield plots, derelict factories, foul-smelling chemical plants, low-rise terraces, gated estates, arterial roads, dead ends, trash heaps, show homes, cracked concrete and prolific weeds. We arrive at Pontoon Dock, where I am the only person who disembarks. This, in my experience, is typical of the area: you often feel as if you’ve entered an evacuated part of town.Another point of reference is the world described in another Fitzcarraldo book, Esther Kinsky's River.
The boys attend school at the Northern District Institute where Frank has a particular talent for art, but they often skip school so Jackson can give him lessons in urban survival (as per the opening quote) and also encourage Frank's artistic imaginings of a better future.
And then there is the man Frank repeatedly draws, in notebooks and on corridor walls, a looming figure with a blank, faceless head and a blue-and-white striped shirt. Frank insists the man, called Arkady is real; that he visits him in his dreams: a strange protector or vengeful foe. Frank began drawing him a while back, around the time the brothers moved into Leonard’s flat.
The book includes reproductions of some of these drawings.
After Leonard passes out of the story (perhaps having passed away) the boys find an abandoned canal boat, in A FLOATING HOME, which they refurbish and rename, inevitably, Arkady. Though they see themselves very much as loners - them against the world - they find themselves caught up in an anti-establishment protest, where they rescue one protestor, Lali, from the 'asters' (black helicopters) and 'lifters' (establishment thugs)
‘We do stuff.’ Frank shrugs, defensive, wishing Lali would shut up. ‘We go out. We don’t get involved. Sometimes it gets involved with us. We didn’t have to help you out but we did.’
‘It was a protest,’ Lali snaps, ‘with political aims. Do you even know what it was for, what we wanted to achieve?’
Frank shakes his head. She throws her hands up and sighs.
‘What’s the Citadel?’ Frank asks. He pictures am obsidian fortress surrounded by crackling storm clouds.
‘It’s a place,’ says Lali, ‘a long way north. They’ve been fighting he state for months. They organised the protest tonight.’
In part as Jackson is infatuated with Lali, they decide to take their boat along the canal system and out of the city, to find the RED CITADEL, which turns out to be a former self-storage block, a temple to consumer stupidity, the land around it owned by a multi-national developer, just one serpent head of the hydra of bel-liberal greed (in the final chapter, the much older Frank admits such opinions now make him cringe). It is now occupied by the sort of anarchoic pseudo-democratic (albeit rejecting conventional democracy) pro-socio-economic-justice anti-neoliberal group familiar today from the Occupy movement, and the boys are caught up in the violence when the developer, with legal backing and physical backing from security forces, attempts to reclaim the building for development.
This part reminded me strongly of the eco-anarchists in Richard Powers' recent The Overstory (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...), and just as in that book the ostensibly non-violent protesters actually themselves engender violence but here Jackson and Frank, somewhat semi-detached, are more aware of the inherent contradictions: the protest leader comes from a rich family and steeped himself in anarchist philosophies in a red brick university and as the authorities move in, it is the protestors who first kick-off leading to this rather bittersweet exchange:
“We aren’t alone,” said Lali, “we started something.”
“We started throwing rocks," said Jackson.
The final quarter of the novel relates the boys' story as they flee from the scene in Arkady (FIRST LIGHT), and then revisits Frank years later (WHITE BIRDS) as he looks back on the events.
In less than 200 pages Langley manages to both create a compelling view of post financial-crisis dystopia and protest and provide a moving portrait of brotherly love. A powerful and haunting book, one that will stay with me, and one I hope gets the critical attention it deserves as I would love to discuss it further with other readers.
December 29, 2018
This book is published by one of the leading UK small presses, Fitzcarraldo Editions an independent publisher (their words) specialising in contemporary fiction and long-form essays ….. it focuses on ambitious, imaginative and innovative writing, both in translation and in the English language . Their novels are (my words) distinctively and beautifully styled, with plain, deep blue covers and a "French-flap" style.
This book is a departure for Fitzcarraldo – their first by a debut author. Stylistically, at least outwardly it is a classic Fitzcarraldo publication, but internally it is, I felt a little of a departure. I have found that a typical publication by them is worthy and dense, often a little too long and, most enjoyable when dipped into rather than read cover to cover.
This book by contrast, while possessed of depth and importance, was I felt much more tightly crafted.
The book has really three main elements to it, all completely interrelated
The first element is a dystopian tale of urban life, in a fictional, future City (albeit one with strong echoes of present day London) racked by inequality (homelessness and forced repossession to facilitate gleaming new developments), authoritarianism and surveillance – all of which prompts first rioting and protests but then an increasing escape to alternative, more radical lifestyles (including the Red Citadel).
The second element is a coming-of-age (almost adult initiation) tale, based around a fierce and tough love between two brothers (the older brother Jackson and Frank: While Jackson prickles at the edges, blankfaced and scowling, and more or less mute, Frank is a show off, an extrovert).
The third angle draws in the author’s own background as a writer on art, Frank’s favourite lesson, the only one he really believes in, is Art (which as an aside is almost exactly the opposite of my own educational experience) – most noticeably in a small number of Frank’s pencil drawings reproduced in the book, including one of Arkady a strange protector or vengeful foe that Frank insists is real and visits him in his dreams, and whose name is later taken for the derelict houseboat on which the brothers make their home and which forms the stage for the key event in the book.
Overall a memorable and atmospheric debut – a dystopian fantasy with an urgent relevance for today’s divided urban societies.
This book is a departure for Fitzcarraldo – their first by a debut author. Stylistically, at least outwardly it is a classic Fitzcarraldo publication, but internally it is, I felt a little of a departure. I have found that a typical publication by them is worthy and dense, often a little too long and, most enjoyable when dipped into rather than read cover to cover.
This book by contrast, while possessed of depth and importance, was I felt much more tightly crafted.
The book has really three main elements to it, all completely interrelated
The first element is a dystopian tale of urban life, in a fictional, future City (albeit one with strong echoes of present day London) racked by inequality (homelessness and forced repossession to facilitate gleaming new developments), authoritarianism and surveillance – all of which prompts first rioting and protests but then an increasing escape to alternative, more radical lifestyles (including the Red Citadel).
The second element is a coming-of-age (almost adult initiation) tale, based around a fierce and tough love between two brothers (the older brother Jackson and Frank: While Jackson prickles at the edges, blankfaced and scowling, and more or less mute, Frank is a show off, an extrovert).
The third angle draws in the author’s own background as a writer on art, Frank’s favourite lesson, the only one he really believes in, is Art (which as an aside is almost exactly the opposite of my own educational experience) – most noticeably in a small number of Frank’s pencil drawings reproduced in the book, including one of Arkady a strange protector or vengeful foe that Frank insists is real and visits him in his dreams, and whose name is later taken for the derelict houseboat on which the brothers make their home and which forms the stage for the key event in the book.
Overall a memorable and atmospheric debut – a dystopian fantasy with an urgent relevance for today’s divided urban societies.
November 30, 2018
This is Patrick Langley’s debut novel published by Fitzcarraldo, one of the leading UK independent publishers. And it is a gripping story set in a dystopian near-future in places that are never named but are clearly English locations, with the exception of the opening chapter.
We start in another country. In fact, the first chapter is called exactly that. Jackson is a young boy and Frank is a baby. Their mother has disappeared and so, for a while, has their father. When their returned father cannot cope, Jackson packs Frank into a bag and sets off to search for their mother.
From this point, we join Jackson and Frank at several points over the next nearly 30 years. The second chapter leaps forward several years and we witness the collapse of the financial institutions (something like the Lehman Brothers of 2008) and subsequent riots on the street (it all feels a bit uncomfortable in a nation heading towards a potential no-deal Brexit). Then the story moves to a city smaller than the one they’d known but which, like the place they’d left, was built round a river. With it’s network of narrow canals, I took this to be Manchester or Liverpool (one of the characters refers to a place a long way north which is how Londoners see those cities although those of us who come from round there tend to disagree). We end with Frank looking back on events in a garden city. As I used to live in Welwyn Garden City, I’m going with that rather than Letchworth, but I guess it could be either.
The point is, though, that the nation is crumbling. There is some kind of totalitarian police force at work with blackshirts and lifters doing the grunt work and things called “asters” (which I thought were flowers) monitoring from the sky. There are people rebelling. There are scenes reminiscent of Richard Powers’ The Overstory as the state forces attempt to quell the uprising.
In the midst of all this, we see a story of brotherly love between Frank and Jackson. Both of them would be classed as “problem children” in the initial chapters, I think. And Frank sees and draws an imaginary person called Arkady.
It is less than 200 pages long, but there is a lot in this book. It paints a compelling portrait of a nation in crisis and a moving portrait of brotherly love. What is very interesting is to look back at chapter one after finishing the final chapter because it is immediately apparent that the writing style matures as the boys mature and I assume this is deliberate. In each chapter, the writing is appropriate for the age of our protagonists in that chapter.
I guess you’d call it a “post-Brexit” novel. In many ways, it’s a depressing picture that it paints - a warning, perhaps.
We start in another country. In fact, the first chapter is called exactly that. Jackson is a young boy and Frank is a baby. Their mother has disappeared and so, for a while, has their father. When their returned father cannot cope, Jackson packs Frank into a bag and sets off to search for their mother.
From this point, we join Jackson and Frank at several points over the next nearly 30 years. The second chapter leaps forward several years and we witness the collapse of the financial institutions (something like the Lehman Brothers of 2008) and subsequent riots on the street (it all feels a bit uncomfortable in a nation heading towards a potential no-deal Brexit). Then the story moves to a city smaller than the one they’d known but which, like the place they’d left, was built round a river. With it’s network of narrow canals, I took this to be Manchester or Liverpool (one of the characters refers to a place a long way north which is how Londoners see those cities although those of us who come from round there tend to disagree). We end with Frank looking back on events in a garden city. As I used to live in Welwyn Garden City, I’m going with that rather than Letchworth, but I guess it could be either.
The point is, though, that the nation is crumbling. There is some kind of totalitarian police force at work with blackshirts and lifters doing the grunt work and things called “asters” (which I thought were flowers) monitoring from the sky. There are people rebelling. There are scenes reminiscent of Richard Powers’ The Overstory as the state forces attempt to quell the uprising.
In the midst of all this, we see a story of brotherly love between Frank and Jackson. Both of them would be classed as “problem children” in the initial chapters, I think. And Frank sees and draws an imaginary person called Arkady.
It is less than 200 pages long, but there is a lot in this book. It paints a compelling portrait of a nation in crisis and a moving portrait of brotherly love. What is very interesting is to look back at chapter one after finishing the final chapter because it is immediately apparent that the writing style matures as the boys mature and I assume this is deliberate. In each chapter, the writing is appropriate for the age of our protagonists in that chapter.
I guess you’d call it a “post-Brexit” novel. In many ways, it’s a depressing picture that it paints - a warning, perhaps.
December 21, 2018
I sure didn’t expect Fitzcarraldo to publish something that I would consider my least favorite read of the year, but Arkady might be just that. Partly it’s the genre (dystopian), partly the pace of action (this is very action-packed and increasingly driven by cursing and violence – am I getting old and snobbish?), neither of which are quite up my alley. And the way it ends with a chapter written in a sort of poetic prose felt cringy more than anything else, sorry to say that. There were some great descriptions of the futuristic urban sprawl in the beginning (Langley writes very colorfully), and it’s nice that the publisher dares to venture into debut novels, but this one just quite wasn’t for me! I am, however, looking forward to what he writes next.
July 21, 2019
There are conceptual similarities between ‘Arkady’ and Zero Bomb, which I’d read the day before. Both are set in a bleak near-future Britain, focusing on individuals who’ve slipped between the cracks of an increasingly automated and authoritarian society. Plenty of drones, inevitably. I preferred ‘Arkady’ as it had more emotional resonance and sense of atmosphere, although neither novel could offer much political or philosophical insight. At least in ‘Arkady’ issues of oppression were discussed, albeit not in any depth. (Which is why I haven't labelled it dystopian.)
The plot proceeds via snapshots of Jackson and Frank, two brothers who lost their parents at an early age. Jackson, the elder of the two, is understandably protective of Frank and tries to teach him survival skills. Although I found their sibling bond rather touching, the settings were the highlight of the book for me. Langley excels at evoking the beauty of urban atrophy; a verbal version of the art in Square Eyes, perhaps. The actual illustrations also appeal. In fact, the Fitzcarraldo copy I read was a lovely object all round. Although there isn’t a great deal of plot, the dilemma that crops up in the final third is impressively tense. 'Arkady' is an enjoyable read if you're in the mood for something aesthetically pleasing.
The plot proceeds via snapshots of Jackson and Frank, two brothers who lost their parents at an early age. Jackson, the elder of the two, is understandably protective of Frank and tries to teach him survival skills. Although I found their sibling bond rather touching, the settings were the highlight of the book for me. Langley excels at evoking the beauty of urban atrophy; a verbal version of the art in Square Eyes, perhaps. The actual illustrations also appeal. In fact, the Fitzcarraldo copy I read was a lovely object all round. Although there isn’t a great deal of plot, the dilemma that crops up in the final third is impressively tense. 'Arkady' is an enjoyable read if you're in the mood for something aesthetically pleasing.
April 23, 2019
Something is very different about London in this dystopian story of the near future in which two brothers meander; abandoned office buildings, tent camps, and compounds guarded by blackshirted police. Langley presents this in a series of snapshots which could almost stand individually as short stories; initially as youngsters living with their mother, then as adolescents living with Leonard their guardian, and as young adults trying to survive. It’s format is as a gradual reveal, but I found that frustrating, as never quite enough was revealed. Amidst a spate of dystopian books recently, this is political also, in dealing with homelessness, riots, police brutality, and an apparent financial crisis. But again it lacks clarity - the brothers have no allegiance to any side except each other, they seem unwelcome in the city, but stay away from the Citadel also. Perhaps Langely’s purpose is if they are seen as loners it adds to the bleakness of a broken down society.
September 21, 2018
Well that was disappointing. This is one of those books where I went into it expecting one thing but actually got something rather different.
I'd hoped it would be the tale of 2 outsider siblings along the lines of Lord of the Flies or perhaps Ian McEwan's early tales of dysfunctional families. Perhaps with the verbal pyrotechnics of Kevin Barry. In fact Mr Barry even provides a favourable quote on the cover and it is published by one of my favourite independents - Fitzcaralldo Editions.
But the book didn't live up to my (unwarranted?) expectations. It turned out to be rather more conventional than that.
Ah well. Ever onward!
I'd hoped it would be the tale of 2 outsider siblings along the lines of Lord of the Flies or perhaps Ian McEwan's early tales of dysfunctional families. Perhaps with the verbal pyrotechnics of Kevin Barry. In fact Mr Barry even provides a favourable quote on the cover and it is published by one of my favourite independents - Fitzcaralldo Editions.
But the book didn't live up to my (unwarranted?) expectations. It turned out to be rather more conventional than that.
Ah well. Ever onward!
February 2, 2019
181118: literature they dare not call science fiction. i have had some trouble deciding whether i found it more five or four, as i have read it only once, as beginning is abstract, as ending is abrupt, as i look forward to more of his work, i give it four. dystopia here and now and in near future, told from, focused on, the views of loyal brothers against the world... well i have an older brother and this is exactly how we love each other growing up...
June 26, 2018
ARKADY by Patrick Langley. This very timely and relevant - though flawed - novel is the first debut published by the excellent Fitzcarraldo Editions. It is a sort-of dystopia but really is our own country being reflected back at us with only a minor schism. Two brothers make their way in a metropolis sharpley divided by wealth and politics. Drones haunt the skies, the shells of collapsed industry have been turned into communes, riots break out on a regular basis. Much of the book is a semi-fictional potted history of 21st century Britain - there are clear influences of Brexit, Occupy and the Tottenham riots, even perhaps Grenfell, among much else. My only real issue is the flimsy plotline. There are exciting set pieces and a lovely depiction of brotherly love but no one thread to drag the story along. Still, Langley is promising and well worth a read and kudos to Fitzcarraldo for venturing into new fiction. Their books are things of beauty, too.
May 3, 2018
Arkady is a coming of age story of two brothers, Jackson and Frank, who are abandoned by their parents as small children and must rely on each other, developing a strong fraternal bond in the process. Growing up, they live with a man named Leonard in a decrepit apartment tower on the fringes of a modern metropolis (London). Societal issues concern housing, jobs, social programs, and a rising water table, a post-Brexit sort of world. Jackson teaches his younger brother, Frank, "life lessons," his version of survival skills, while they explore abandoned buildings after school. When they leave home, life becomes an adventure in survival. The brothers get involved with an anti-government protest movement at The Citadel in order to experience a radical new lifestyle of living with a group of people in a large abandoned home that serves as their fortress. A law enforcement raid on The Citadel becomes combative and violent which for me brought to mind David Koresh and the Branch Davidian compound raid by the FBI in Waco, Texas in 1993. This is a very interesting and enjoyable debut.
January 20, 2019
Although it isn't a terribly long book, each page slowly blanches your interest in either brother until you realise by the end (which takes a bizarre, darker turn without much consequence or depth) that maybe you never really were all that interested in the first place.
To be fair, yes, there are some good lines, but the dialogue has no rhythm and the melancholic gloss has been applied with a shovel.
To be fair, yes, there are some good lines, but the dialogue has no rhythm and the melancholic gloss has been applied with a shovel.
August 4, 2021
I nearly gave this 4 stars and then paused - actually what stops this from being a 5? Nothing. I've been too tight with my top marks and a book this good deserves it. The writing is incredible - scenes of the riots and protests actually take you into the heart of the action. You can smell the paraffin from the fire bombs. Yet much is left to the imagination. You never really know who these brothers are and where they've come from. You don't know where or when the action is taking place. Loved it!
September 8, 2024
Very debutish, lacked depth I thought. Dystopia felt very rote. thought the brothers' relationship was potentially interesting but didn't feel that the book went anywhere with it. Disappointing because I've loved some of his short writing!
October 23, 2018
I liked this but I am not sure that it really went anywhere or revealed anything. It is set in an unknown city (London?) on a date not revealed but presumably the near future. Society is breaking down and it appears the poor and those that don't "fit"are being removed. The book follows the lives of 2 young brothers (at the start of the book) who have to survive after their Mother disappears. It si very good on the relationship between the brothers and cleverly moves the story forward in a number of chapters that each age the brothers until in the final chapter I think the oldest is around 30.
It deliberately does very little to explain the situations or fill in any background and just concentrates on the lives of the brothers which is well done but which I found a little unfulfilling.
It deliberately does very little to explain the situations or fill in any background and just concentrates on the lives of the brothers which is well done but which I found a little unfulfilling.
September 15, 2024
a dazzling novel that highlights the trauma, incoherence, indecisiveness, and love between two brothers as they go through a world that is constantly in corruption. it displays a dystopian society that is very comparable to what we see today in the present. the way they maneuver through the world and have inner monologues and dialogues with each other are displayed excellently as we see two protagonists who really don’t know what is going on and what to do, a real reflection of people in society.
they’re confused, scared, and real.
they’re confused, scared, and real.
November 17, 2024
Left with strong impressions: having witnessed a desperate and traumatic struggle to survive in a sharp jagged and uncaring world that sadly didn’t feel too dystopian - had resonance and recognisable aspects - all within the polluted heat of an overpopulated and disenfranchised society. Wouldn’t want to return or stay there any longer; relief it was as short as it was.
April 23, 2018
Sort of an urban Huckleberry Finn where through a traumatic experience two brothers learn to rely totally on one another and lead their lives running around the derelict wastelands of an unnamed city and beyond. Very enjoyable well written exciting adventure.
December 2, 2019
cute drawings
October 20, 2020
Completely failed to grip me even though it had all the makings of something really cool: dystopia, urban precariousness, fraternity, art. But nothing was done with these touch-points?
November 6, 2022
Loved this. Such a vivid descriptive style. Wish it had been twice as long!
August 29, 2023
Some lovely prose, but doesn't feel fully formed.
October 6, 2023
Set in a broken England, a divided society only a few steps away from our own, two brothers survive like weeds pushing up in the cracks between stones. Beautiful and deeply unsettling.
February 12, 2024
Proxy for ‘Life with Spider’ - New Yorker short story (Ann’s discussion group). Is Spider a proxy for depression?
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October 3, 2024So not my thing I can't even rate it.
August 16, 2025
kind of empty (could be for YA, adventure dystopia coming-of-age), fraternal love
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