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De Dolfijn
In ‘De Dolfijn’ van Mark Haddon is een pasgeboren baby de enige overlevende van een verschrikkelijk vliegtuigongeluk. Ze wordt in welvarend isolement opgevoed door een overbezorgde vader. Als een huwelijkskandidaat langskomt, heeft hij snel door dat er iets niet in de haak is. Hij moet halsoverkop vluchten en ontsnapt aan boord van De Dolfijn, met een huurmoordenaar op zijn hielen… Zo begint een wild avontuur. Een stoere roman die van de moderne tijd naar de Klassieke Oudheid springt; waarin piraten tekeergaan, een prinses de hand van een gladiator wint, en vrouwelijke geesten met een lampreienmond een man naar de hel sleuren. En waarin de leden van een gebroken gezin over de aardbol zwerven, op zoek naar een nieuw thuis. Mark Haddon is auteur van de internationale bestseller ‘Het wonderbaarlijke voorval met de hond in de nacht’, dat werd bekroond met 17 literaire prijzen.
349 pages, Paperback
First published May 9, 2019
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About the author
Mark Haddon
81 books3,999 followersMark Haddon is an English novelist, best known for The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (2003). He won the Whitbread Award, the Dolly Gray Children's Literature Award, the Guardian Prize, and a Commonwealth Writers Prize for his work.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,071 reviews
June 11, 2019
Mark Haddon has written a terrifically exciting novel called “The Porpoise.”
Could we just stop there?
Almost anything else I say about this book risks scattering readers like startled birds. Indeed, if Haddon weren’t the author of “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time,” I would have darted away from his new book, too.
The plot is based on a Greek legend, but not a sexy one like Madeline Miller’s “Circe” was. No, “The Porpoise” reaches back to the story of Apollonius, who exposes a king’s incestuous relationship with his own daughter. When the king moves to silence him, Apollonius flees and endures a string of harrowing exploits and far-fetched coincidences. That moldy tale served as the outline for several versions during the Middle Ages and then a chaotic Jacobean play called “Pericles,” which was probably written by Shakespeare and a London pimp named George Wilkins.
Still with me? Just wait . . .
To read the rest of this review, go to The Washington Post
https://www.washingtonpost.com/entert...
Could we just stop there?
Almost anything else I say about this book risks scattering readers like startled birds. Indeed, if Haddon weren’t the author of “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time,” I would have darted away from his new book, too.
The plot is based on a Greek legend, but not a sexy one like Madeline Miller’s “Circe” was. No, “The Porpoise” reaches back to the story of Apollonius, who exposes a king’s incestuous relationship with his own daughter. When the king moves to silence him, Apollonius flees and endures a string of harrowing exploits and far-fetched coincidences. That moldy tale served as the outline for several versions during the Middle Ages and then a chaotic Jacobean play called “Pericles,” which was probably written by Shakespeare and a London pimp named George Wilkins.
Still with me? Just wait . . .
To read the rest of this review, go to The Washington Post
https://www.washingtonpost.com/entert...
March 24, 2019
Mark Haddon's latest novel moves into markedly different territory from his previous work, it shifts into different time periods, from the modern to more ancient times, with strong elements of the fantastical. Haddon draws on Greek mythology, the story of Appolonius and Shakespeare's Pericles, reworking them but with differences, and for those readers unfamiliar with them, it will pay to become acquainted with at least the broad outlines of what happens in them prior to reading this. The novel has a haunting dreamlike quality in its telling, of the tragic, a need for justice and revenge, and with its depiction of strong and resilient women. I should point it has some gruesome aspects and includes the dark, unsettling and disturbing themes of abuse and incest.
Philippe's wife, Maja, is killed in a plane accident, and he is overcome by grief. His baby daughter, Angelica survives, untimely ripped from her mother. Angelica is raised in splendid isolation by her over protective father, she is to become the focus of a deeply unhealthy and troubling obsession. She finds herself escaping into literature. Darius makes a failed attempt to rescue Angelica from her well guarded father, only just managing to board The Porpoise and embarking on a series of adventures. The multiple threads interconnect in this complex, multilayered and beguiling book, although it can feel disjointed occasionally. This is a beautifully written novel, thought provoking, and whilst overall I found it an enthralling read, it is not likely to be for everyone. Many thanks to Random House Vintage for an ARC.
Philippe's wife, Maja, is killed in a plane accident, and he is overcome by grief. His baby daughter, Angelica survives, untimely ripped from her mother. Angelica is raised in splendid isolation by her over protective father, she is to become the focus of a deeply unhealthy and troubling obsession. She finds herself escaping into literature. Darius makes a failed attempt to rescue Angelica from her well guarded father, only just managing to board The Porpoise and embarking on a series of adventures. The multiple threads interconnect in this complex, multilayered and beguiling book, although it can feel disjointed occasionally. This is a beautifully written novel, thought provoking, and whilst overall I found it an enthralling read, it is not likely to be for everyone. Many thanks to Random House Vintage for an ARC.
October 3, 2019
Now Nominated for the Goldsmiths Prize 2019
This book is Haddon's contribution to the already pretty vast canon of reworkings of the Appolinus / Apollonius tale - illustrous authors like Gower, Wilkins and Shakespeare already took the ancient Greek material and remixed it, always slightly changing the plot, introducing new characters and twisting the themes (see "Pericles" and "Emaré", e.g.). Haddon now sets out to create a pastiche, connecting and partially overwriting what's already out there with his own ideas. He lets his characters wander through different scenes and time frames, connecting their stories through mirror images and plot details - you better pay close attention, this is no beach read.
The narrative frame and also the main strand is the story of Angelica, a young girl who, although it's not explicitly stated, apparently lives in postmodern times. When her mother was pregnant with her, she got into a terrible plain crash that Angelica only survived by being cut out of the womb. Her rich and powerful father is first overcome by grief, and later starts isolating, controlling and sexually abusing his daughter whom he sees as a substitute for his dead wife - Angelica flees into literature, preferrably reading old tales. When a young man attempts to save her, a terrible incident causes her to close herself off completely; the narrative that follows after this point might be wholly in her head, a merging of her reality and the stories she read, where characters like her failed savior, her mother, father and she herself re-appear in mythical form.
It shows that Haddon put a lot of effort into the research for and construction of this book, it's cleverly done and I am sure that readers who are more familiar with mythology, Appolonius, Pericles et al. than me will get a lot more out of the reading experience, so keep in mind that this might be part of the problems I had with this text. The thing is: I didn't enjoy reading this. I was interested in Angelica and what might happen to her, but never got fully immersed in the mythological parts, although I usually like puzzles. I found the text just a little too clever for its own good. On top of that, I was wondering what the point of all of this was - granted, the question is maybe beside the point, but I didn't appreciate that the pastiche itself and playing with source material was the main focus of the text while the themes themselves took a backseat.
So all in all, this is probably a real treat for fans of mythology, but I was unfortunately a little underwhelmed - although you have to give it to Haddon that he has put a lot of thought into the intricate composition. I'd like to argue against one point of critique that I found repeatedly in other reviews though, and that keeps coming up here on GR: People complaining that they don't want to read about unpleasant things like child abuse. I find this call for escapism very odd, because literature is not here to make you some hot milk and hand you a blanket and cuddle you a little. And one thing that Haddon certainly does with this book is showing that there are aspects of human nature, and some of them are very unpleasant, that remain relevant as topics for literature through the centuries.
This book is Haddon's contribution to the already pretty vast canon of reworkings of the Appolinus / Apollonius tale - illustrous authors like Gower, Wilkins and Shakespeare already took the ancient Greek material and remixed it, always slightly changing the plot, introducing new characters and twisting the themes (see "Pericles" and "Emaré", e.g.). Haddon now sets out to create a pastiche, connecting and partially overwriting what's already out there with his own ideas. He lets his characters wander through different scenes and time frames, connecting their stories through mirror images and plot details - you better pay close attention, this is no beach read.
The narrative frame and also the main strand is the story of Angelica, a young girl who, although it's not explicitly stated, apparently lives in postmodern times. When her mother was pregnant with her, she got into a terrible plain crash that Angelica only survived by being cut out of the womb. Her rich and powerful father is first overcome by grief, and later starts isolating, controlling and sexually abusing his daughter whom he sees as a substitute for his dead wife - Angelica flees into literature, preferrably reading old tales. When a young man attempts to save her, a terrible incident causes her to close herself off completely; the narrative that follows after this point might be wholly in her head, a merging of her reality and the stories she read, where characters like her failed savior, her mother, father and she herself re-appear in mythical form.
It shows that Haddon put a lot of effort into the research for and construction of this book, it's cleverly done and I am sure that readers who are more familiar with mythology, Appolonius, Pericles et al. than me will get a lot more out of the reading experience, so keep in mind that this might be part of the problems I had with this text. The thing is: I didn't enjoy reading this. I was interested in Angelica and what might happen to her, but never got fully immersed in the mythological parts, although I usually like puzzles. I found the text just a little too clever for its own good. On top of that, I was wondering what the point of all of this was - granted, the question is maybe beside the point, but I didn't appreciate that the pastiche itself and playing with source material was the main focus of the text while the themes themselves took a backseat.
So all in all, this is probably a real treat for fans of mythology, but I was unfortunately a little underwhelmed - although you have to give it to Haddon that he has put a lot of thought into the intricate composition. I'd like to argue against one point of critique that I found repeatedly in other reviews though, and that keeps coming up here on GR: People complaining that they don't want to read about unpleasant things like child abuse. I find this call for escapism very odd, because literature is not here to make you some hot milk and hand you a blanket and cuddle you a little. And one thing that Haddon certainly does with this book is showing that there are aspects of human nature, and some of them are very unpleasant, that remain relevant as topics for literature through the centuries.
July 28, 2019
I finished this strange novel a few days ago and I still don't know what to make of it. Maybe Mark Haddon is trying his best to distance himself from The Curious Incident - his subsequent works have all been wildly different. This might be his most unusual effort to date.
It begins with a plane crash. Phillipe, a wealthy businessman, loses his wife, but the baby she is carrying survives. Naming her Angelica, Phillipe raises her in isolation and as she grows older he begins to abuse her. Angelica is powerless to stop her father - she has nobody to talk to besides the household staff. She's also an avid reader - stories are her only means of distracting from her wretched life. One day a young man named Darius arrives to take care of an art deal with Phillipe. He falls for Angelica and tries to rescue her, but he is beaten by her father and followed by his henchman. Darius escapes on a boat with three of his friends...
...And that's when things get really weird. On the boat, Darius suddenly turns into Pericles, Prince of Tyre. From what I gather, he comes from a lesser known Shakespearean play and much of the rest of the book retells his story. It involves ocean voyages, violent battles and an estranged daughter (hmm I am starting to see a pattern emerge here). Even Shakespeare himself pops up at one point and I had to laugh at the madness of it all.
So what is the point of The Porpoise? Of course, the two main stories intersect in some ways but to what purpose? Maybe it's something to do with how ancient myths still echo in modern times - I honestly don't know. Haddon can write a beautiful sentence and I have to give him marks for ambition, but trying to make sense of this novel made my head hurt.
It begins with a plane crash. Phillipe, a wealthy businessman, loses his wife, but the baby she is carrying survives. Naming her Angelica, Phillipe raises her in isolation and as she grows older he begins to abuse her. Angelica is powerless to stop her father - she has nobody to talk to besides the household staff. She's also an avid reader - stories are her only means of distracting from her wretched life. One day a young man named Darius arrives to take care of an art deal with Phillipe. He falls for Angelica and tries to rescue her, but he is beaten by her father and followed by his henchman. Darius escapes on a boat with three of his friends...
...And that's when things get really weird. On the boat, Darius suddenly turns into Pericles, Prince of Tyre. From what I gather, he comes from a lesser known Shakespearean play and much of the rest of the book retells his story. It involves ocean voyages, violent battles and an estranged daughter (hmm I am starting to see a pattern emerge here). Even Shakespeare himself pops up at one point and I had to laugh at the madness of it all.
So what is the point of The Porpoise? Of course, the two main stories intersect in some ways but to what purpose? Maybe it's something to do with how ancient myths still echo in modern times - I honestly don't know. Haddon can write a beautiful sentence and I have to give him marks for ambition, but trying to make sense of this novel made my head hurt.
April 25, 2021
As novels go, The Porpoise is one of the weirder ones I've encountered. How could it not be, considering it contains narratives set in the present day, ancient Greece, and Elizabethan England (each having something to do with the other). Not to mention (but I will) some magical realism. Not to mention jumpy storylines that are not always easy to track without GPS.
If you like a clean plot, beware. You're more likely to find value in stretches of pretty writing (Haddon being a poet, too). I picked it up as a fan of his Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. The very cool cover doesn't hurt either. Call it "Boat in the hands of an angry Neptune" (and it seems Neptune is always angry).
Starts off well enough. Modern day. Plane crash. Realism in all its ugliness. Then it gets a little weird as Haddon makes his move on the ancient Greek story of Appolinus, who outs a powerful man guilty of incest and pays the price in wanderings not unlike Odysseus.
But Lord. Did Haddon have to play the Pericles card? You know, the Shakespeare play based on the same myth. This means we get a couple of chapters on Good Bard Bill, too, including ones with Bard as Ghost (move over, Hamlet's Daddy). Reading these incidentals will have you scratching your head. Really?
Sometimes the jumping narrative dallies in description. That I rather liked, but I know it's not everybody's cup of Matcha, so many will disagree. Haddon also has a habit of starting umpteen sentences in a row with subject pronouns (He... he...he...he...he...) until I noticed it and didn't say, "He-he, how clever." No, I said: "Why?" and "Is there a copy editor in the house?"
So with all that going against that, I should have been reaching for the dreaded single star. But wait... I actually loved this book in tattered-piece parts. Sometimes, especially when it focused on Pericles, I got caught up in the adventure of it all and felt like I was a kid again reading storybook swashbuckle, complete with Andrew Wyeth illustrations (provided by my imagination, thank you). So there's that, off and on.
The other lift for this book is its sheer audacity. Who but an established author could get away with it? Who but an established author would try? Sure, it almost invites failure in the door and gives it a warm seat by the fire with a cup of grog (for the coming bad news), but whatever. Haddon didn't play it safe. He had a dream (what he was on, I can't say), and he went for it!
So I tip my hat on that count, lean over the rail, and enjoy all those jumping porpoises swimming alongside the boat. I also admit to shrugging my shoulders and going along with the suspended suspension bridge of disbelief. Back from the dead? Um. OK. If you say so. Greek Goddess coming to life for a B-role during the frantic finish? What the hell.
It was that kind of ride. Ones, fives, surfaces, dives. 3.5, such that I wish my fourth star would light on and off to affirm the point.
If you like a clean plot, beware. You're more likely to find value in stretches of pretty writing (Haddon being a poet, too). I picked it up as a fan of his Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. The very cool cover doesn't hurt either. Call it "Boat in the hands of an angry Neptune" (and it seems Neptune is always angry).
Starts off well enough. Modern day. Plane crash. Realism in all its ugliness. Then it gets a little weird as Haddon makes his move on the ancient Greek story of Appolinus, who outs a powerful man guilty of incest and pays the price in wanderings not unlike Odysseus.
But Lord. Did Haddon have to play the Pericles card? You know, the Shakespeare play based on the same myth. This means we get a couple of chapters on Good Bard Bill, too, including ones with Bard as Ghost (move over, Hamlet's Daddy). Reading these incidentals will have you scratching your head. Really?
Sometimes the jumping narrative dallies in description. That I rather liked, but I know it's not everybody's cup of Matcha, so many will disagree. Haddon also has a habit of starting umpteen sentences in a row with subject pronouns (He... he...he...he...he...) until I noticed it and didn't say, "He-he, how clever." No, I said: "Why?" and "Is there a copy editor in the house?"
So with all that going against that, I should have been reaching for the dreaded single star. But wait... I actually loved this book in tattered-piece parts. Sometimes, especially when it focused on Pericles, I got caught up in the adventure of it all and felt like I was a kid again reading storybook swashbuckle, complete with Andrew Wyeth illustrations (provided by my imagination, thank you). So there's that, off and on.
The other lift for this book is its sheer audacity. Who but an established author could get away with it? Who but an established author would try? Sure, it almost invites failure in the door and gives it a warm seat by the fire with a cup of grog (for the coming bad news), but whatever. Haddon didn't play it safe. He had a dream (what he was on, I can't say), and he went for it!
So I tip my hat on that count, lean over the rail, and enjoy all those jumping porpoises swimming alongside the boat. I also admit to shrugging my shoulders and going along with the suspended suspension bridge of disbelief. Back from the dead? Um. OK. If you say so. Greek Goddess coming to life for a B-role during the frantic finish? What the hell.
It was that kind of ride. Ones, fives, surfaces, dives. 3.5, such that I wish my fourth star would light on and off to affirm the point.
July 8, 2019
The Porpoise starts off with the tale of a widowed father raising his daughter after his wife is killed in an airplane crash. At first, all seems well, but soon it becomes apparent that there is something off about the relationship between father and daughter. In comes a young man named Darius who discerns the secret, and the father drives him away while mortally threatening his life. Darius on the run then morphs into the story of Pericles, the daring adventurer from the Shakespearean play.
This book was hard to rate because there was so much I liked about it, but there was also a lot that didn't work for me. I really enjoyed the portion of the story that is about Pericles, which is the majority (about two-thirds) of the book. I've never read the Shakespearean play, but Haddon made the character, his adventures, and his heartbreaks come alive for me. Even though the Pericles story is based on an ancient character, his issues feel relevant and interesting. The story of the father and daughter is interesting enough too, but it feels not fully fleshed out, probably because once Darius shows up, the story pivots to Pericles.
What didn't work for me is all the back and forth between the different stories. Just as we reach the pivotal moment with Darius, we leave his story behind. And when the Pericles story reaches a crucial part, we switch back to vignettes of the father and daughter. There are even a few scenes with Shakespeare and George Wilkins (who is suspected to have written parts of the Pericles Shakespearean play), which did not make any sense to me at all. And the back and forth weren't clearly labeled, so confusion was inevitable for a few paragraphs.
Instead of the author trying to be clever and fitting two different stories that mirror each other into one story (along with random Shakespeare/George asides), I wish he had just concentrated on the Pericles retelling. It would have been awesome to read that story from beginning to end, instead of starting around the middle. I think this is a case of the author being too ambitious, so that the story ended up more complex and difficult to understand than it needed to be. Still, the riveting tale of Pericles made me glad I picked this up.
This book was hard to rate because there was so much I liked about it, but there was also a lot that didn't work for me. I really enjoyed the portion of the story that is about Pericles, which is the majority (about two-thirds) of the book. I've never read the Shakespearean play, but Haddon made the character, his adventures, and his heartbreaks come alive for me. Even though the Pericles story is based on an ancient character, his issues feel relevant and interesting. The story of the father and daughter is interesting enough too, but it feels not fully fleshed out, probably because once Darius shows up, the story pivots to Pericles.
What didn't work for me is all the back and forth between the different stories. Just as we reach the pivotal moment with Darius, we leave his story behind. And when the Pericles story reaches a crucial part, we switch back to vignettes of the father and daughter. There are even a few scenes with Shakespeare and George Wilkins (who is suspected to have written parts of the Pericles Shakespearean play), which did not make any sense to me at all. And the back and forth weren't clearly labeled, so confusion was inevitable for a few paragraphs.
Instead of the author trying to be clever and fitting two different stories that mirror each other into one story (along with random Shakespeare/George asides), I wish he had just concentrated on the Pericles retelling. It would have been awesome to read that story from beginning to end, instead of starting around the middle. I think this is a case of the author being too ambitious, so that the story ended up more complex and difficult to understand than it needed to be. Still, the riveting tale of Pericles made me glad I picked this up.
May 9, 2019
The Porpoise is by far Mark Haddon's strangest and most unique novel, and that's exactly what I loved about it. From the beginning, you are launched head first into the action which is quite a shock to the system. It is apparently inspired by Pericles, Prince of Tyre, written in part by Shakespeare, so those who enjoy Greek Mythology will likely find much to love here. Exquisitely written, fascinating and a highly original and dramatic story which broaches some dark and disturbing topics, this is a difficult book to put down. Due to divisive topics and it being more than a little odd I feel this is what readers call a Marmite read - one you'll either love or hate.
This is a thoroughly ambitious novel that switches between reality and myth many times until the two merge. An engaging, absorbing and surprising page-turner with its roots set deeply in the 16-century tales of old. It had an ethereal, almost dreamlike atmosphere to it which was rather mesmerising and the twists and turns keep you reading despite the uncomfortable subject matter. I have been a huge fan of Haddon since the publication of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, but this is rather far removed from that tale. A highly entertaining and different read. Recommended to those who enjoy unusual fiction. Many thanks to Chatto & Windus for an ARC.
This is a thoroughly ambitious novel that switches between reality and myth many times until the two merge. An engaging, absorbing and surprising page-turner with its roots set deeply in the 16-century tales of old. It had an ethereal, almost dreamlike atmosphere to it which was rather mesmerising and the twists and turns keep you reading despite the uncomfortable subject matter. I have been a huge fan of Haddon since the publication of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, but this is rather far removed from that tale. A highly entertaining and different read. Recommended to those who enjoy unusual fiction. Many thanks to Chatto & Windus for an ARC.
October 30, 2019
I read this book due to its shortlisting for the 2019 Goldsmith Prize. I had previously borrowed it from the library close to the announcement of the 2019 Booker longlist – but reading review of it and seeing it not make the longlist I returned it unread.
I was glad that the Goldsmith bought me back to the book (and the library) as I realised that I had read all of the author’s previous adult novels.
His first novel – “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time” was of course hugely (and in my view completely deservedly) popular. A classic book. His next two “A Spot of Bother” and “Red House” kept to a similar family drama setting but were less successful (in both a literary and commercial sense).
In a recent Guardian review, Haddon talked about wanting to exercise his writing muscles.
And I think this serves as an analogy for the book. If someone had only ever used the Millennium Falcon to go to Sainsbury’s but decided to test it to its full capabilities you can imagine that they would indulge themselves in a wild ride, exploring as much of the (fictional) universe as they can, moving from one area to another but with only a limited sense of control, and probably creating a bit of a mess in their wake. And while they would probably have huge fun piloting the ride – you would not really enjoy being a passenger.
Welcome to “The Porpoise”.
My second observation would be that Haddon has of course drawn very heavily on Shakespeare and “Pericles” – Shakespeare himself drawing on his co-author George Watkins and Watkins drawing on various mythological sources and more recent retellings. Co-incidentally of course Ali Smith drew on the same play for “Spring”.
The brilliance of Shakespeare lies of course in his inventiveness and playfullness with language and in his profound insight into the human condition. It does not generally lie in his proposterous plots (of which Pericles is a particular extreme). Frequently during this book I reflected that whereas Ali Smith drew and built heavily on the first two elements, and on lightly on the third, Haddon does the opposite here.
Haddon has admitted that he deliberately drew on a bad play "I’d been toying with the idea of writing a novel based on a Shakespeare play for some time before I realised that if I chose one of his not-terribly-good plays then I would feel less reverence for my source material and more freedom to abuse it for my own creative purposes. I might then be able to write something which felt like an original work and not just an adaptation." - but this does not to me excuse his inability to draw in a more profound way from the source material.
My third would be on the source material for “Pericles” – Gower’s “Story of Apollonius”. Researching this story, the first summary of the plot I found said this:
Again I say – Welcome to “The Porpoise”
Other thoughts:
- I really did not like the narrative style. It is very distinctive combining heavily portentous observations (both our omniscient narrator and many of the characters frequently evaluate the eventual consequences of future meaning of their actions while performing them) with an Ian McEwan insistence on making sure that all of his research is put into effect – time and again I received far more detail than I liked.
Now Haddon has said that "The structural conceit underlying the entire novel is that Pericles’ adventures are a fantasy concocted by Angelica / the daughter of the king of Antioch. She is being abused. The first young man to understand what is happening and who could therefore be her saviour instead rejects her and runs away. She comes to terms with this by telling a long and complicated story in which her would-be-saviour is punished and learns the error of his ways, in which a mother dies but doesn’t really die, and in which a family is torn apart then brought together again."
And given that the style begins from the first page we can only assume that even the first section - before the Pericles character appears - is Angelica's imagination. But while this might explain the portentousness it does not excuse it - it merely means that Haddon is channelling an imaginary bad writer (which to be fair does fit with his source material) and I am unsure about the research (unless Angelica drew on her reading to produce this).
- The vignette when Wilkins dies and is visited by the ghost of Shakespeare and both his physical and ghostly bodies are abused by the women that he made suffer as a pimp is interesting and a clear reckoning for that Haddon sees as both Wilkins terrible personal life and his downplaying of rape as incest in the original play. But I felt that it did not go anywhere – I was really expecting Wilkins and Shakespeare to begin to appear in both the modern day and ancient narrative, but if they did I missed it.
Overall very disappointing – I am glad the author enjoyed taking the Millennium Falcon for a spin, but I feel I made a monkey of myself being the passenger. I only wish he had gone Solo.
I was glad that the Goldsmith bought me back to the book (and the library) as I realised that I had read all of the author’s previous adult novels.
His first novel – “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time” was of course hugely (and in my view completely deservedly) popular. A classic book. His next two “A Spot of Bother” and “Red House” kept to a similar family drama setting but were less successful (in both a literary and commercial sense).
In a recent Guardian review, Haddon talked about wanting to exercise his writing muscles.
Plus, he says, he wanted to do more with the endlessly capacious, flexible form that is the novel. “It was Sean O’Brien, I think, talking about poetry, who asked how you move from the here and now to what he called ‘the weird zone’. I always want to get to the weird zone – the place where magic can happen believably. I’m not talking about children’s books or science fiction or fantasy but that numinous thing, that sense that there is something more. And with a novel you can do crazy shit. If you can hold the reader’s hand and make them feel safe you can take them anywhere.” He adds: “I thought to myself: ‘If I’m going to write another novel about a family, particularly one about another lower-middle-class family from Swindon, it’s a bit like having the Millennium Falcon but only using it for going to Sainsbury’s. I thought: ‘I want to know what all these knobs and levers do.’”
And I think this serves as an analogy for the book. If someone had only ever used the Millennium Falcon to go to Sainsbury’s but decided to test it to its full capabilities you can imagine that they would indulge themselves in a wild ride, exploring as much of the (fictional) universe as they can, moving from one area to another but with only a limited sense of control, and probably creating a bit of a mess in their wake. And while they would probably have huge fun piloting the ride – you would not really enjoy being a passenger.
Welcome to “The Porpoise”.
My second observation would be that Haddon has of course drawn very heavily on Shakespeare and “Pericles” – Shakespeare himself drawing on his co-author George Watkins and Watkins drawing on various mythological sources and more recent retellings. Co-incidentally of course Ali Smith drew on the same play for “Spring”.
The brilliance of Shakespeare lies of course in his inventiveness and playfullness with language and in his profound insight into the human condition. It does not generally lie in his proposterous plots (of which Pericles is a particular extreme). Frequently during this book I reflected that whereas Ali Smith drew and built heavily on the first two elements, and on lightly on the third, Haddon does the opposite here.
Haddon has admitted that he deliberately drew on a bad play "I’d been toying with the idea of writing a novel based on a Shakespeare play for some time before I realised that if I chose one of his not-terribly-good plays then I would feel less reverence for my source material and more freedom to abuse it for my own creative purposes. I might then be able to write something which felt like an original work and not just an adaptation." - but this does not to me excuse his inability to draw in a more profound way from the source material.
My third would be on the source material for “Pericles” – Gower’s “Story of Apollonius”. Researching this story, the first summary of the plot I found said this:
At this point, the story is considerably less than half over, if we measure its length by its sheer number of lines. Yet what happens from this point onward bears almost no causal connection with what has gone before. With the death of Antiochus, the narrative element motivating Apollonius's wanderings disappear. Yet his wanderings continue and come to include his wife and daughter as well. What motivates these wanderings are random catastrophes which bear little relation either to the first part of the story or to each other. On the voyage to Tyre a storm causes Apollonius's wife to fall ill and apparently die ….
Again I say – Welcome to “The Porpoise”
Other thoughts:
- I really did not like the narrative style. It is very distinctive combining heavily portentous observations (both our omniscient narrator and many of the characters frequently evaluate the eventual consequences of future meaning of their actions while performing them) with an Ian McEwan insistence on making sure that all of his research is put into effect – time and again I received far more detail than I liked.
Now Haddon has said that "The structural conceit underlying the entire novel is that Pericles’ adventures are a fantasy concocted by Angelica / the daughter of the king of Antioch. She is being abused. The first young man to understand what is happening and who could therefore be her saviour instead rejects her and runs away. She comes to terms with this by telling a long and complicated story in which her would-be-saviour is punished and learns the error of his ways, in which a mother dies but doesn’t really die, and in which a family is torn apart then brought together again."
And given that the style begins from the first page we can only assume that even the first section - before the Pericles character appears - is Angelica's imagination. But while this might explain the portentousness it does not excuse it - it merely means that Haddon is channelling an imaginary bad writer (which to be fair does fit with his source material) and I am unsure about the research (unless Angelica drew on her reading to produce this).
- The vignette when Wilkins dies and is visited by the ghost of Shakespeare and both his physical and ghostly bodies are abused by the women that he made suffer as a pimp is interesting and a clear reckoning for that Haddon sees as both Wilkins terrible personal life and his downplaying of rape as incest in the original play. But I felt that it did not go anywhere – I was really expecting Wilkins and Shakespeare to begin to appear in both the modern day and ancient narrative, but if they did I missed it.
Overall very disappointing – I am glad the author enjoyed taking the Millennium Falcon for a spin, but I feel I made a monkey of myself being the passenger. I only wish he had gone Solo.
October 31, 2019
Shortlisted for the Goldsmiths Prize 2019
This was my first experience of reading Haddon, thanks to the Goldsmiths Prize. I found this book interesting and enjoyable, but the disparate parts did not coalesce as much as I had hoped. The starting point is the play Pericles, Prince of Tyre, which is conventionally attributed to Shakespeare and the much lesser known George Wilkins. This story has a complicated history stretching much further back, and some of these older versions also inspired elements of this retelling.
Haddon's version is split between a modern story, in which the pregnant wife of a very rich man dies in an air crash, but her daughter is saved, the reclusive father then keeps his daughter in isolation and abuses her sexually, seeing her as a replacement for his dead wife. When a potential suitor is violently attacked by the father, the daughter takes refuge in her imagination, and her version of the suitor's story becomes the story of Pericles. Another strand is the story of Wilkins' death.
I am not convinced this book is innovative enough for the Goldsmiths Prize, in a way it was more reminiscent of Jeanette Winterson's Frankissstein: A Love Story in its mixture of retelling and modern fantasy. It does work surprisingly well for such a mixture of genres, and is enjoyable to read.
This was my first experience of reading Haddon, thanks to the Goldsmiths Prize. I found this book interesting and enjoyable, but the disparate parts did not coalesce as much as I had hoped. The starting point is the play Pericles, Prince of Tyre, which is conventionally attributed to Shakespeare and the much lesser known George Wilkins. This story has a complicated history stretching much further back, and some of these older versions also inspired elements of this retelling.
Haddon's version is split between a modern story, in which the pregnant wife of a very rich man dies in an air crash, but her daughter is saved, the reclusive father then keeps his daughter in isolation and abuses her sexually, seeing her as a replacement for his dead wife. When a potential suitor is violently attacked by the father, the daughter takes refuge in her imagination, and her version of the suitor's story becomes the story of Pericles. Another strand is the story of Wilkins' death.
I am not convinced this book is innovative enough for the Goldsmiths Prize, in a way it was more reminiscent of Jeanette Winterson's Frankissstein: A Love Story in its mixture of retelling and modern fantasy. It does work surprisingly well for such a mixture of genres, and is enjoyable to read.
February 11, 2019
My thanks to Penguin Random House UK and NetGalley for a review copy of this book.
Part of the description of this book on NetGalley was this:
“A newborn baby is the sole survivor of a terrifying plane crash.
She is raised in wealthy isolation by an overprotective father. She knows nothing of the rumours about a beautiful young woman, hidden from the world.
When a suitor visits, he understands far more than he should. Forced to run for his life, he escapes aboard The Porpoise, an assassin on his tail…”
Reading this, the book sounded pretty interesting, according to me, perhaps a retelling or modern version of the Tempest, but turns out I didn’t pay enough attention to the last part, and got the wrong Shakespeare play. This is a retelling or version of one, but the play in question is Pericles. But because of the wrong assumption I started with, my reading experience turned out to be a little strange (the book is a little strange actually), which started on an interesting note, then got to a point where I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue, and then ended with me actually pretty much enjoying the book quite a bit.
When the story starts, we meet Phillipe who loses his much beloved wife Maja in a plane accident, leaving behind their baby. Phillipe (who is very wealthy) is devastated and retreats from society with the child, but his affection for the baby, Angelique who reminds him of Maja takes a dark turn and he crosses all lines. [This was the point at which, despite my enjoying the writing, I was considering not continuing the story. But I am glad I did.] Then a young man, Darius, whose father was connected by business to Phillipe decides to visit them on the pretext of selling some art, but actually to catch a glimpse of Angelique whose beauty is much talked of in society. But when he realises that something is wrong in the household, he finds his own life in danger. Barely managing to escape he gets aboard a vessel, the Porpoise, suddenly Darius and the reader find that we’re transitioning into another story and another time, as we begin to follow Pericles as he lands at Tarsus, rescuing it, Dionyza, and Cleon from their troubles, only to be led on to Pentapolis where he meets (in this version) Chloe the daughter of Simonides, the king, their marriage, and child, how all three are separated and what befalls them then. Alongside we keep coming back to the present and to Angelique who finds her escape in books, and a third thread to the story is also introduced but I’ll leave you to find out what that is for yourself.
As I said, when I started the book, I was enjoying the writing but then when it got into aspects that were distasteful and disturbing for me to say the least, I was beginning to even consider giving up. But luckily I didn’t, and when it got on to Pericles’ tale, which really forms most part of the book, I began to enjoy the book quite a bit. Haddon has (as we can see from his sources at the end) gone into different versions of this story, a collaboration between George Wilkins and Shakespeare (in the Shakespeare version), and come up with his own. It was only when I got the Pericles connection and read up the basic plot of Pericles (I haven’t read the Shakespeare play), this began to make a little more sense to me (something like what happened with reading The Sisters of the Winter Wood last year, when I had the idea of Goblin Market in my mind, then the book began to make far more sense)—also I realised how the modern part of the story fits into the whole scheme (what it’s role was in the whole plot, even in the original, isn’t very clear). I also really liked the way Haddon ended the Pericles part of the story, very subtly done (and different from the Shakespeare version). The third thread, I am not very sure I understood the role of in the scheme of things, in a sense also is built around the aspect of justice, or having to face the Furies for the wrongs one has committed. I enjoyed the writing of the book for the most part, and the plot too kept me hooked because I wasn’t sure where the various threads would lead, and how the whole thing would shape up. So overall, it turned out to be a pretty interesting read, but it still loses a star from me one because of the disturbing plot aspects which made sense after I got the Pericles connection but didn’t become any the more acceptable (or less disturbing), and also because I really wasn’t able to make sense of the whole scheme of the plot (the third plot thread, and also another part of the story). But good reading if one can stick with it, or the subject matter doesn’t put you off too much (particularly since this is just a small part of the story).
Part of the description of this book on NetGalley was this:
“A newborn baby is the sole survivor of a terrifying plane crash.
She is raised in wealthy isolation by an overprotective father. She knows nothing of the rumours about a beautiful young woman, hidden from the world.
When a suitor visits, he understands far more than he should. Forced to run for his life, he escapes aboard The Porpoise, an assassin on his tail…”
Reading this, the book sounded pretty interesting, according to me, perhaps a retelling or modern version of the Tempest, but turns out I didn’t pay enough attention to the last part, and got the wrong Shakespeare play. This is a retelling or version of one, but the play in question is Pericles. But because of the wrong assumption I started with, my reading experience turned out to be a little strange (the book is a little strange actually), which started on an interesting note, then got to a point where I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue, and then ended with me actually pretty much enjoying the book quite a bit.
When the story starts, we meet Phillipe who loses his much beloved wife Maja in a plane accident, leaving behind their baby. Phillipe (who is very wealthy) is devastated and retreats from society with the child, but his affection for the baby, Angelique who reminds him of Maja takes a dark turn and he crosses all lines. [This was the point at which, despite my enjoying the writing, I was considering not continuing the story. But I am glad I did.] Then a young man, Darius, whose father was connected by business to Phillipe decides to visit them on the pretext of selling some art, but actually to catch a glimpse of Angelique whose beauty is much talked of in society. But when he realises that something is wrong in the household, he finds his own life in danger. Barely managing to escape he gets aboard a vessel, the Porpoise, suddenly Darius and the reader find that we’re transitioning into another story and another time, as we begin to follow Pericles as he lands at Tarsus, rescuing it, Dionyza, and Cleon from their troubles, only to be led on to Pentapolis where he meets (in this version) Chloe the daughter of Simonides, the king, their marriage, and child, how all three are separated and what befalls them then. Alongside we keep coming back to the present and to Angelique who finds her escape in books, and a third thread to the story is also introduced but I’ll leave you to find out what that is for yourself.
As I said, when I started the book, I was enjoying the writing but then when it got into aspects that were distasteful and disturbing for me to say the least, I was beginning to even consider giving up. But luckily I didn’t, and when it got on to Pericles’ tale, which really forms most part of the book, I began to enjoy the book quite a bit. Haddon has (as we can see from his sources at the end) gone into different versions of this story, a collaboration between George Wilkins and Shakespeare (in the Shakespeare version), and come up with his own. It was only when I got the Pericles connection and read up the basic plot of Pericles (I haven’t read the Shakespeare play), this began to make a little more sense to me (something like what happened with reading The Sisters of the Winter Wood last year, when I had the idea of Goblin Market in my mind, then the book began to make far more sense)—also I realised how the modern part of the story fits into the whole scheme (what it’s role was in the whole plot, even in the original, isn’t very clear). I also really liked the way Haddon ended the Pericles part of the story, very subtly done (and different from the Shakespeare version). The third thread, I am not very sure I understood the role of in the scheme of things, in a sense also is built around the aspect of justice, or having to face the Furies for the wrongs one has committed. I enjoyed the writing of the book for the most part, and the plot too kept me hooked because I wasn’t sure where the various threads would lead, and how the whole thing would shape up. So overall, it turned out to be a pretty interesting read, but it still loses a star from me one because of the disturbing plot aspects which made sense after I got the Pericles connection but didn’t become any the more acceptable (or less disturbing), and also because I really wasn’t able to make sense of the whole scheme of the plot (the third plot thread, and also another part of the story). But good reading if one can stick with it, or the subject matter doesn’t put you off too much (particularly since this is just a small part of the story).
March 13, 2019
I received a copy of this book from Netgalley, in exchange for an honest review.
Beautifully different, ethereal and drifting; clever writing indeed.
I do so like it when authors take risks. As far as I'm concerned, these are the books that last - the ones that dare to deliver something thought-provoking, challenging and 'different'.
The Porpoise is all of those things, and very beautifully written too.
It starts with a plane crash and a death. A baby is left alone with her doting father, who turns out to be far too doting for comfort. A daughter starves herself to exert some form of power, and in doing so, drifts into a world of myth and make-believe. What are stories and what is reality? That's essentially what lies at the heart of this book.
When The Porpoise first dramatically changed direction, I'll admit that it threw me. One moment I'd been reading about a sad little girl and her father, the next, I was suddenly plunged into an ancient myth. However, once adjusted, I liked this format very much. The author was adept at slipping the different narratives over the top of one another, like shifting tectonic plates. The overall effect was one of dreaming, where one scene blends into another.
There are some hard-to-address, dark topics in here too. Child abuse is the most difficult to read about, yet in this book, there is some triumph in how the girl takes control of her own destiny, at the cost of everything else. Although she is undeniably the victim, she rises above her abuser and emerges triumphant.
In fact, that's something of a theme here - surviving women, and those who fight back against the men that have held them back. One of the brilliant (but highly random) scenes in the middle of a book focuses on a 16th century man, loathed by everyone, who dies - only to find himself surrounded by the women he'd wronged in life. It was an unsettling yet powerful moment.
So yes - to conclude... go and read this. Read this now. And celebrate authors that step firmly outside the box and tread the path untrodden. Because we need more of them, and the only way to get more of them is to support their endeavours!
Beautifully different, ethereal and drifting; clever writing indeed.
I do so like it when authors take risks. As far as I'm concerned, these are the books that last - the ones that dare to deliver something thought-provoking, challenging and 'different'.
The Porpoise is all of those things, and very beautifully written too.
It starts with a plane crash and a death. A baby is left alone with her doting father, who turns out to be far too doting for comfort. A daughter starves herself to exert some form of power, and in doing so, drifts into a world of myth and make-believe. What are stories and what is reality? That's essentially what lies at the heart of this book.
When The Porpoise first dramatically changed direction, I'll admit that it threw me. One moment I'd been reading about a sad little girl and her father, the next, I was suddenly plunged into an ancient myth. However, once adjusted, I liked this format very much. The author was adept at slipping the different narratives over the top of one another, like shifting tectonic plates. The overall effect was one of dreaming, where one scene blends into another.
There are some hard-to-address, dark topics in here too. Child abuse is the most difficult to read about, yet in this book, there is some triumph in how the girl takes control of her own destiny, at the cost of everything else. Although she is undeniably the victim, she rises above her abuser and emerges triumphant.
In fact, that's something of a theme here - surviving women, and those who fight back against the men that have held them back. One of the brilliant (but highly random) scenes in the middle of a book focuses on a 16th century man, loathed by everyone, who dies - only to find himself surrounded by the women he'd wronged in life. It was an unsettling yet powerful moment.
So yes - to conclude... go and read this. Read this now. And celebrate authors that step firmly outside the box and tread the path untrodden. Because we need more of them, and the only way to get more of them is to support their endeavours!
March 1, 2019
Mark Haddon has written widely differing kinds of novels and here we find the sort of experimental treatment displayed his short story collection ‘The Pier Falls and other Stories', which marked such a departure from his previous best-selling work.
Tragedy, revenge and retribution are given a spell-binding modern day twist in this fantastical re-working of an ancient Greek myth.
Haddon is a master storyteller and his use of imagery is sublime (e.g. 'time has turned to toffee'). However, be warned that with its disturbing sub-plot of paedophilia and incest, this is a challenging double narrative which could leave you well out of your comfort zone.
My thanks go to the publisher for the ARC via Netgalley
Tragedy, revenge and retribution are given a spell-binding modern day twist in this fantastical re-working of an ancient Greek myth.
Haddon is a master storyteller and his use of imagery is sublime (e.g. 'time has turned to toffee'). However, be warned that with its disturbing sub-plot of paedophilia and incest, this is a challenging double narrative which could leave you well out of your comfort zone.
My thanks go to the publisher for the ARC via Netgalley
January 23, 2025
Now shortlisted for the 2019 Goldsmiths Prize - and the one book I am surprised to see on the list.
If 2016-18 were the years of modern Shakespeare rewrites of the major plays, notably but not exclusively the Hogarth series, the 2019 trend seems to be Shakespeare plus time travel (see also Sandra Newman’s The Heavens which I read immediately after this) and Pericles (see also Ali Smith’s Spring).
Porpoise is Mark Haddon’s take on Pericles, Prince of Tyre, itself a retelling of a much older story (but normally told of Apollonius). Co-written with George Watkins, isn’t generally regarded as the Bard’s finest moment with a historically incoherent setting and a plot as rusty as Pericles suit of armour after it is, conveniently, retrieved from the sea by a fisherman at just the right time at one point. And indeed Mark Haddon has admitted to picking one of the lesser works so he felt less constrained about taking liberties with the text. (see https://www.waterstones.com/blog/the-...)
The first chapter updates the father-daughter incest / suspecting suitor storyline to the modern day, with Haddon keen to emphasise that this is in fact rape by Antiochus (here rich businessman Philippe), not incest, and to give his abused daughter a voice and indeed, unlike the original, a name, here Angelica. When a young man Darius comes to visit the house he realises something is terribly wrong (no riddles here though) and tries to help but ends up pursued by Phillipe’s henchman who is trying to kill him.
But things take an odd turn in the 2nd chapter as Darius, suddenly and without explanation, literally turns into the historic Pericles and much of the rest of the book is simply a rambunctious retelling of the original play.
Ali Smith’s main borrowing from Pericles was Marina and her purity and “these aren’t the droids you’re looking for” Derren Brown like mind control techniques, transposed in Spring to Florence. Haddon actually loses that part of the plot, particularly the brothel scene, altogether.
Interspersed in Hardin’s Pericles retelling are updates on modern-day Angelica’s story, but there is no interaction between the two separate stories other than the last few words of the novel.
And Haddon introduces a third strand briefly - set in 17th century London with the ghost of Shakespeare visiting Wilkins after the latter’s death. The setting is vividly described, drawing on historical maps, but plot wise this seems to serve no purpose other than enabling Haddon to blame Wilkins for, and absolve Shakespeare of, the treatment of Antiochus’s daughter.
“Perhaps it was Wilkins who gave the abused princess no name and two empty lines.”
Overall Haddon clearly had a lot of fun writing it and it is a well-told adventure story but little more than that, and the shifting of times really doesn’t add much. There is ambition here of sorts - which the Goldsmiths judges have recognised - but the delivery is very disappointing.
2.5 stars rounded down to 2 as this didn’t live up to the hype.
If 2016-18 were the years of modern Shakespeare rewrites of the major plays, notably but not exclusively the Hogarth series, the 2019 trend seems to be Shakespeare plus time travel (see also Sandra Newman’s The Heavens which I read immediately after this) and Pericles (see also Ali Smith’s Spring).
Porpoise is Mark Haddon’s take on Pericles, Prince of Tyre, itself a retelling of a much older story (but normally told of Apollonius). Co-written with George Watkins, isn’t generally regarded as the Bard’s finest moment with a historically incoherent setting and a plot as rusty as Pericles suit of armour after it is, conveniently, retrieved from the sea by a fisherman at just the right time at one point. And indeed Mark Haddon has admitted to picking one of the lesser works so he felt less constrained about taking liberties with the text. (see https://www.waterstones.com/blog/the-...)
The first chapter updates the father-daughter incest / suspecting suitor storyline to the modern day, with Haddon keen to emphasise that this is in fact rape by Antiochus (here rich businessman Philippe), not incest, and to give his abused daughter a voice and indeed, unlike the original, a name, here Angelica. When a young man Darius comes to visit the house he realises something is terribly wrong (no riddles here though) and tries to help but ends up pursued by Phillipe’s henchman who is trying to kill him.
But things take an odd turn in the 2nd chapter as Darius, suddenly and without explanation, literally turns into the historic Pericles and much of the rest of the book is simply a rambunctious retelling of the original play.
Ali Smith’s main borrowing from Pericles was Marina and her purity and “these aren’t the droids you’re looking for” Derren Brown like mind control techniques, transposed in Spring to Florence. Haddon actually loses that part of the plot, particularly the brothel scene, altogether.
Interspersed in Hardin’s Pericles retelling are updates on modern-day Angelica’s story, but there is no interaction between the two separate stories other than the last few words of the novel.
And Haddon introduces a third strand briefly - set in 17th century London with the ghost of Shakespeare visiting Wilkins after the latter’s death. The setting is vividly described, drawing on historical maps, but plot wise this seems to serve no purpose other than enabling Haddon to blame Wilkins for, and absolve Shakespeare of, the treatment of Antiochus’s daughter.
“Perhaps it was Wilkins who gave the abused princess no name and two empty lines.”
Overall Haddon clearly had a lot of fun writing it and it is a well-told adventure story but little more than that, and the shifting of times really doesn’t add much. There is ambition here of sorts - which the Goldsmiths judges have recognised - but the delivery is very disappointing.
2.5 stars rounded down to 2 as this didn’t live up to the hype.
February 27, 2019
Well that was not what I was expecting! I got into the first part of the book - intrigued by what was going to happen to Angelica - when suddenly I was taken to Ancient Greece. I went along with it - Pericles can be interesting - and then we were whisked somewhere else. I am afraid that there was too much to-ing and fro-ing, and perhaps too much description with not enough action, and my mind wandered. I then started skim reading and we all know where that ends, yes, giving up.
November 28, 2020
Minunată!
August 8, 2025
He realises now that he loved Maja because she was the only person he needed.
*
He does not understand yet that sometimes the monster is other people, sometimes the monster squats unseen inside one’s own heart, and sometimes the monster is the brute fact of time itself.
*
He feels it now for the first time, that impotent desire to turn back time,forced to bear the one burden which cannot be put down because it is carried in the heart.
*
She is ordinary now. Life is fragile and she can no longer take anything for granted. Days are all she has and they can be wasted or cherished, difficult as they sometimes are. To walk on warm dry
stones is good, to eat fresh bread is good, to drink clean, cold water is good. If she met that prince now, what would she be able to offer him? What could he offer her?
*
He does not understand yet that sometimes the monster is other people, sometimes the monster squats unseen inside one’s own heart, and sometimes the monster is the brute fact of time itself.
*
He feels it now for the first time, that impotent desire to turn back time,forced to bear the one burden which cannot be put down because it is carried in the heart.
*
She is ordinary now. Life is fragile and she can no longer take anything for granted. Days are all she has and they can be wasted or cherished, difficult as they sometimes are. To walk on warm dry
stones is good, to eat fresh bread is good, to drink clean, cold water is good. If she met that prince now, what would she be able to offer him? What could he offer her?
May 4, 2019
The Porpoise is beautiful – polished oak, polished brass, everything singing with little bursts of sunlight. There is a ship's wheel with protruding handles at which you could stand and be Barbarossa or Vasco da Gama, there are cream canvas sails which belly and ripple and slap, there are portholes and winches, there are proper ropes of twisted sisal.
The Porpoise is a book that's very of this moment: It could pass as a volume in the Hogarth Shakespeare Series (as a modern-set retelling of Pericles, it has the ironic self-awareness of Shylock is My Name); it traces the patriarchy/rape culture back to Western Canon foundational texts (as did The Red Word); it attempts to give voices to those female characters from the epics who seemed to exist just to be ravaged or abducted to advance the tales of male characters (like Circe or The Silence of the Girls); and it adds a bit of feminist revenge fantasy (a la The Power). Author Mark Haddon blends all of this together in surprising and effective ways – the sentences are sharp and the characterisations are believable – but the format seems unnecessarily muddied; I might have abandoned this when it first took a hard curve (but am glad I didn't). My other niggling complaint – which I'm still mulling over – is whether this kind of feminist-smash-the-patriarchy story is a man's to tell. Still mulling. As I didn't know the plot of Shakespeare's Pericles, or the original Greek tale of Appollonius of Tyre, the details here were surprising to me – so I'll place the rest of this review behind spoiler tags. (Note: I read an ARC and passages quoted may not be in their final forms.)
August 7, 2019
The Porpoise is the fourth novel by award-winning British author, Mark Haddon and is a retelling of the Greek legend of Apollonius. Newborn Angelica is the only survivor of a small plane crash. Her wealthy father Philippe, paralysed by grief at the loss of his wife, becomes reclusive, keeping Angelica in isolation. At first this is from a paranoia about her safety, but then it is his unhealthy obsession, his inappropriate attentions that he needs to hide from the world. And, as she matures, Angelica begins to understand that this is not normal.
It might be observed about Philippe: “If you have never had to face the consequences of your own mistakes, does the quiet, critical, contrary voice at the back of your mind grow gradually quieter until it is no longer audible?”
Darius Koulouris is the son of a recently-deceased art dealer with business ties to Philippe. This rather dissolute young man comes upon something his father had intended for Philippe and immediately recognises the opportunity to check out the fabled Angelica. Before he has been in their company for long, he intuits the situation, but hesitates to get involved. On his return, Angelica begs him to take her away, but Philippe intervenes, with violence: Darius will be lucky to escape with his life…
Angelica has always been an avid reader. “Her favourite stories are the old ones, those that set deep truths ringing like bells, that take the raw materials of sex and cruelty, of fate and chance, and render them safe by trapping them in beautiful words.” Often “She enters that foggy border country between dream and story…she is weaving another world.”
And now the imagined world to which she escapes when subjected to Philippe’s incestuous attentions is one in which Darius escapes the far reach of her father’s murderous intentions. Darius morphs into Pericles who is sometimes Appolinus or Apollonius, sailing the Mediterranean and beyond, saving a city, being ship-wrecked, winning a princess’s hand, suffering terrible tragedy and wandering alone for many years of self-imposed exile.
Not all readers will be familiar with this Greek legend and its various iterations but a quick look at Wikipedia provides the basics, including the fact that William Shakespeare had a go, and Haddon refers to this in the Author’s Notes. The parts of the novel featuring Will are very entertaining, particularly if envisaging him as portrayed by David Mitchell in Upstart Crow.
Haddon’s version of the legend is beautifully told, with some exquisite descriptive prose that easily evokes the era, be it Ancient Greece, twenty-first-century Hampshire or Jacobean London. As the story progresses, Haddon’s Pericles and Chloe, through their trials, gain much wisdom, while Marina, without the benefit of either parent, grows into a beautiful person, within and without, courageous and resilient. While quite a departure from Haddon’s earlier work, this is a wonderful read.
This unbiased review is from a copy provided by Doubleday Australia
It might be observed about Philippe: “If you have never had to face the consequences of your own mistakes, does the quiet, critical, contrary voice at the back of your mind grow gradually quieter until it is no longer audible?”
Darius Koulouris is the son of a recently-deceased art dealer with business ties to Philippe. This rather dissolute young man comes upon something his father had intended for Philippe and immediately recognises the opportunity to check out the fabled Angelica. Before he has been in their company for long, he intuits the situation, but hesitates to get involved. On his return, Angelica begs him to take her away, but Philippe intervenes, with violence: Darius will be lucky to escape with his life…
Angelica has always been an avid reader. “Her favourite stories are the old ones, those that set deep truths ringing like bells, that take the raw materials of sex and cruelty, of fate and chance, and render them safe by trapping them in beautiful words.” Often “She enters that foggy border country between dream and story…she is weaving another world.”
And now the imagined world to which she escapes when subjected to Philippe’s incestuous attentions is one in which Darius escapes the far reach of her father’s murderous intentions. Darius morphs into Pericles who is sometimes Appolinus or Apollonius, sailing the Mediterranean and beyond, saving a city, being ship-wrecked, winning a princess’s hand, suffering terrible tragedy and wandering alone for many years of self-imposed exile.
Not all readers will be familiar with this Greek legend and its various iterations but a quick look at Wikipedia provides the basics, including the fact that William Shakespeare had a go, and Haddon refers to this in the Author’s Notes. The parts of the novel featuring Will are very entertaining, particularly if envisaging him as portrayed by David Mitchell in Upstart Crow.
Haddon’s version of the legend is beautifully told, with some exquisite descriptive prose that easily evokes the era, be it Ancient Greece, twenty-first-century Hampshire or Jacobean London. As the story progresses, Haddon’s Pericles and Chloe, through their trials, gain much wisdom, while Marina, without the benefit of either parent, grows into a beautiful person, within and without, courageous and resilient. While quite a departure from Haddon’s earlier work, this is a wonderful read.
This unbiased review is from a copy provided by Doubleday Australia
July 9, 2021
Uluitoare această metaficțiune. In parte istorie, mitologie reinterpretată, ficțiune cartea asta te ține cu sufletul la gură de la primul la ultimul rând al ei. Povestea(poveștile) îți ridică la limite extreme tensiunea. Descrierile , limbajul și stilul lui Haddon sunt toate la maxim. Glisarea între epoci și povești este realizată cu mare măiestrie și cadrează perfect în textul romanului. Fragmentele narațiunii contemporane, spuse-ntr-un prezent continuu dar cu un ușor aer clasic/antic, povestea gotică cu stafiile lui Shakespeare și Wilkins, aventurile lui Pericle/Apollonius se întrepătrund și se completează formând un întreg coerent, logic și bestial de bun. Îi dau 5 stele fără dram de îndoială.
lost-interest
February 18, 2019ARC provided in exchange for honest review 🐬
October 16, 2019
”The novel exists in a world where times, locations, languages and cultures are laid one over the other, with a cavalier disregard for historical and geographical fact…”
(Taken from the closing acknowledgements).
First an admission. I had decided not to bother reading this book until it was shortlisted for the Goldsmith’s Prize. At that point, my commitment to reading all shortlisted books kicked in and overrode my initial hesitation.
I am not entirely sorry I changed my mind. But I am not wildly excited either. On balance, I am glad I read this via a library loan rather than paying for a copy of my own.
In truth, this book is completely bonkers which makes it quite fun to read. It is Mark Haddon’s version of “Pericles, Prince of Tyre” which is itself a re-working of a much older story. Shakespeare’s version was co-written with George Watkins and both these gentlemen rather bizarrely appear in the book for a short episode.
We start in the here and now with an updating of the key plot elements: father/daughter incest, a young man who becomes interested in the daughter and then suspicious of the father. The father, Philippe, attempts to kill Darius, the suitor, and Darius flees, pursued by Philippe’s right hand, amoral, assistant. It is at this point, barely 2 or 3 chapters in, that the story takes a bizarre turn as Darius literally transforms into Pericles and time shifts back to a sort of version of Pericles’ time but with added muskets and other accoutrements from Shakespeare’s time (see the opening quote - don’t expect this to all make logical sense!). From this point on, the main story is a kind of re-telling of the Pericles story but with a lot of wild variations. This is mixed with updates on the story of the daughter, Angelica. It has to be said that with Philippe and Angelica, Pericles, Chloe, Marina (and others) there are plenty of storylines to keep track of.
You have to make up your own mind, but there is every chance that the story after the flight of Darius is all in Angelica’s mind as she takes refuge in classical literature as a mental hiding place to help her survive her father’s abuse. This is how I read the book. And it sort of makes sense of the ending. This reasoning also explains the time shifts, the variations in the story etc.. I think you can read this as a bit like The Wonderful Wizard of Oz where Dorothy has an amazing adventure but wakes to discover it has all been a dream (spoiler alert!).
I have to acknowledge that, despite the rollicking story, the clever and detailed plotting, the re-working of a classic story etc., I did not really enjoy the overall reading experience. I could not escape the impression that the author had a lot more fun writing the book than I was having reading it. Maybe it is down to my lack of knowledge of the mythology, but I never felt invested in any part of the story other than Angelica. The problem this raises is that you have to read the other parts of the story very carefully because there are so many connections and references and generally clever things going on. If you are a fan of mythology, I imagine there is a lot to delight in in this story, but I found it just a bit too clever for its own good. I am the first to admit that this is just a personal view and I can see why others have loved the book.
(Taken from the closing acknowledgements).
First an admission. I had decided not to bother reading this book until it was shortlisted for the Goldsmith’s Prize. At that point, my commitment to reading all shortlisted books kicked in and overrode my initial hesitation.
I am not entirely sorry I changed my mind. But I am not wildly excited either. On balance, I am glad I read this via a library loan rather than paying for a copy of my own.
In truth, this book is completely bonkers which makes it quite fun to read. It is Mark Haddon’s version of “Pericles, Prince of Tyre” which is itself a re-working of a much older story. Shakespeare’s version was co-written with George Watkins and both these gentlemen rather bizarrely appear in the book for a short episode.
We start in the here and now with an updating of the key plot elements: father/daughter incest, a young man who becomes interested in the daughter and then suspicious of the father. The father, Philippe, attempts to kill Darius, the suitor, and Darius flees, pursued by Philippe’s right hand, amoral, assistant. It is at this point, barely 2 or 3 chapters in, that the story takes a bizarre turn as Darius literally transforms into Pericles and time shifts back to a sort of version of Pericles’ time but with added muskets and other accoutrements from Shakespeare’s time (see the opening quote - don’t expect this to all make logical sense!). From this point on, the main story is a kind of re-telling of the Pericles story but with a lot of wild variations. This is mixed with updates on the story of the daughter, Angelica. It has to be said that with Philippe and Angelica, Pericles, Chloe, Marina (and others) there are plenty of storylines to keep track of.
You have to make up your own mind, but there is every chance that the story after the flight of Darius is all in Angelica’s mind as she takes refuge in classical literature as a mental hiding place to help her survive her father’s abuse. This is how I read the book. And it sort of makes sense of the ending. This reasoning also explains the time shifts, the variations in the story etc.. I think you can read this as a bit like The Wonderful Wizard of Oz where Dorothy has an amazing adventure but wakes to discover it has all been a dream (spoiler alert!).
I have to acknowledge that, despite the rollicking story, the clever and detailed plotting, the re-working of a classic story etc., I did not really enjoy the overall reading experience. I could not escape the impression that the author had a lot more fun writing the book than I was having reading it. Maybe it is down to my lack of knowledge of the mythology, but I never felt invested in any part of the story other than Angelica. The problem this raises is that you have to read the other parts of the story very carefully because there are so many connections and references and generally clever things going on. If you are a fan of mythology, I imagine there is a lot to delight in in this story, but I found it just a bit too clever for its own good. I am the first to admit that this is just a personal view and I can see why others have loved the book.
April 10, 2019
Thank you to Doubleday Books & Netgalley for allowing me to read this in exchange for an honest review!
I have not read any other books by Mark Haddon, but I have heard good things. I had no idea he wrote a new one, and I figured I would give it a shot.
Unfortunately, I really didn't care for it. His writing is great. I had no issues with his writing. It was the story. I was expecting something different than this, and it just didn't click with me. The characters were all very bland, and I wasn't connected enough with them to care what happens. The ending wasn't anything special.
This novel definitely had a lot of potential, and I'm sure a lot of people will love it. I personally really liked the beginning. It started out with a plane crash, and I was hooked. I think, for me, I compared it too much to The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller, and I am in love with that book. You can't even compare them, but I did for some reason. I felt like the writing was very blunt, and it had the mythology vibes, but I just didn't like it as much.
I am definitely going to give this author another shot, because I did like his writing style so much.
I have not read any other books by Mark Haddon, but I have heard good things. I had no idea he wrote a new one, and I figured I would give it a shot.
Unfortunately, I really didn't care for it. His writing is great. I had no issues with his writing. It was the story. I was expecting something different than this, and it just didn't click with me. The characters were all very bland, and I wasn't connected enough with them to care what happens. The ending wasn't anything special.
This novel definitely had a lot of potential, and I'm sure a lot of people will love it. I personally really liked the beginning. It started out with a plane crash, and I was hooked. I think, for me, I compared it too much to The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller, and I am in love with that book. You can't even compare them, but I did for some reason. I felt like the writing was very blunt, and it had the mythology vibes, but I just didn't like it as much.
I am definitely going to give this author another shot, because I did like his writing style so much.
November 7, 2018
Bonkers. This spans all of history and comments on the cyclical nature of humanity. But I’m still not sure what has just happened.
July 31, 2019
It just didn't gel.
Don't care if you approach it from a magical realism or reincarnation point of view, this just doesn't connect the three disparate storylines adequately. Not being able to weave them together and leave all three lines with vague endings doesn't make it clever, it means the author couldn't get them to work, so they'll just let the reader try and connect the dots.
(\_/)
O_o
Ah, no.
I still cannot for the life of me figure out if the one storyline was suppose to ancient Greece like the cover implies or ancient Rome as the deity names suggest. Since All the locales were eastern Mediterranean and the cities of Tarsus and Tyre were extant during both, but the reference to Scythians puts it closer to Roman timelines. So there's a strong sense of ancient world, but slightly vague. Seeing a trend? Vague.
The only purpose of the weird intermission of Shakespearean timeline was to provide a plot line bridge between the two, but honestly, it just muddied the water and the story would have been more cogent without it. This comes off as the author being clever and less about the story. This is suppose to be a rewrite of Shakespeare's Pericles, Prince of Tyre and clearly Haddon wanted you to know that, 4x4 to the head.
Yes, I saw all the clever allusions to water and death by water. And when you think about water as symbolizing sex, it all ties together in a disturbing way. And the modern storyline premise, like the source material, is pretty dreadful.
That said there are some things I did like and this summation of civilizations is wonderful:
Or this excellent bit on gender roles:
My favorite quote:
Overall, some wonderful concepts, but the structure crippled it.
Don't care if you approach it from a magical realism or reincarnation point of view, this just doesn't connect the three disparate storylines adequately. Not being able to weave them together and leave all three lines with vague endings doesn't make it clever, it means the author couldn't get them to work, so they'll just let the reader try and connect the dots.
(\_/)
O_o
Ah, no.
I still cannot for the life of me figure out if the one storyline was suppose to ancient Greece like the cover implies or ancient Rome as the deity names suggest. Since All the locales were eastern Mediterranean and the cities of Tarsus and Tyre were extant during both, but the reference to Scythians puts it closer to Roman timelines. So there's a strong sense of ancient world, but slightly vague. Seeing a trend? Vague.
The only purpose of the weird intermission of Shakespearean timeline was to provide a plot line bridge between the two, but honestly, it just muddied the water and the story would have been more cogent without it. This comes off as the author being clever and less about the story. This is suppose to be a rewrite of Shakespeare's Pericles, Prince of Tyre and clearly Haddon wanted you to know that, 4x4 to the head.
Yes, I saw all the clever allusions to water and death by water. And when you think about water as symbolizing sex, it all ties together in a disturbing way. And the modern storyline premise, like the source material, is pretty dreadful.
That said there are some things I did like and this summation of civilizations is wonderful:
You grow up learning that kingship is natural and eternal, royal lineage a great arch with curves overhead from the forgotten past into the unknown future, giving a city protection and purpose. But it is, in fact, a piece of grand theater, nothing more than a custom, like money, like honor, and if the majority decide that they will no longer agree to tell the old story then it collapses. At which point, there is no turning back. One cannot re-believe when the veil is torn.
Or this excellent bit on gender roles:
She has grown up was a woman. She has been taught to flatter, to please, to depend, to give way, to make herself small and quiet. She has been told to be soft so that men will always have a means by which they can hurt and control her, that ring through the nose which men call femininity.
My favorite quote:
The lucky ones are those who die young and swiftly and in ignorance.
Overall, some wonderful concepts, but the structure crippled it.
May 20, 2019
It was a great read! It was a bit of a slow start, but midway through I couldn’t put it down.
February 11, 2021
Am abandonat-o fără nici un regret, mi-au fost destule primele 120-130 de pagini. Nu înteleg de ce mi-as pierde timpul să o termin atâta timp cât nu am rezonat nici cu povestea, nici cu scriitura. Mă întorc la clasici.
April 25, 2019
If you pick up this book because you enjoyed The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mr Haddon, then please check the reviews of The Porpoise. It is not at all in the same vein.
The Porpoise is a ship, not a creature.
The story twists between several strands of increasingly dysfunctional characters, in increasingly distasteful situations.
The blurb is somewhat intriguing, but (unless it changes), it does not address the madness and mayhem, even if beautifully and lyrically described, that is the Pericles myth, which is the basis for the book.
On the other hand, you may be of a more literary bent than me, and find it fascinating.
I expect it will be praised by those who understand these things, but I did not enjoy it.
The Porpoise is a ship, not a creature.
The story twists between several strands of increasingly dysfunctional characters, in increasingly distasteful situations.
The blurb is somewhat intriguing, but (unless it changes), it does not address the madness and mayhem, even if beautifully and lyrically described, that is the Pericles myth, which is the basis for the book.
On the other hand, you may be of a more literary bent than me, and find it fascinating.
I expect it will be praised by those who understand these things, but I did not enjoy it.
January 1, 2020
This was a great challenge for the brain cells at times, a bracer for New Year's Day I truly welcomed. There is a lot to track between real day events and the weaving of fable so I must admit I had to sigh now and then as the narrative shifted.
Gabino Iglesias writing for NPR says: "Mark Haddon's latest novel, The Porpoise, inhabits a strange interstitial space between myth, fantasy, tragedy, and adventure."
That's the truth in capsule.
A very good read to start the year with!
Library Loan
Gabino Iglesias writing for NPR says: "Mark Haddon's latest novel, The Porpoise, inhabits a strange interstitial space between myth, fantasy, tragedy, and adventure."
That's the truth in capsule.
A very good read to start the year with!
Library Loan
March 10, 2019
I enjoyed this book as much for the research it prompted me to do into the story of Pericles of Tyre in its various permutations as for reading the different strands Mark Haddon weaves together here. The opening chapters about Angelica, her father and her would-be suitor Darius catch the attention straightaway but this strand is overwhelmed by the larger story, leaving me with the feeling (as I think the author intended) that the bulk of the book is a figment of one of the characters’ imagination. Cleverly done and wholly engrossing - I was wondering throughout when and how the stories would converge again.
A bit of a romp, fast paced and entertaining, despite some gory moments, I’d have no hesitation recommending to fans of mythology retold in more than one setting and time frame. There is plenty of this kind of fiction around these days and this book stands up well with others I have read of this type.
With thanks to Random House Vintage via NetGalley for the opportunity to read an ARC.
A bit of a romp, fast paced and entertaining, despite some gory moments, I’d have no hesitation recommending to fans of mythology retold in more than one setting and time frame. There is plenty of this kind of fiction around these days and this book stands up well with others I have read of this type.
With thanks to Random House Vintage via NetGalley for the opportunity to read an ARC.
July 23, 2020
I grew tired of this pretty quickly. The back-and-forth between myth, fantasy, and "reality" was tedious. It felt overly indulgent and chaotic; as if Haddon was trying to explore as much as possible in this fictional realm, which had been adapted from a Shakespeare play, which had been adapted from a Greek myth. So fiction within fiction within fiction. And the result. A mess. My biggest disappointment was in all the characters. If there had been one character that felt more than a blank slate, a caricature, then perhaps I could have enjoyed this more. But out of the many, many characters introduced, their thoughts were so scattered, their "deep" and profound emotions felt fake and overly explained, nothing about them felt true. It's feel like Haddon was trying to write something "different". I can't help but feel what I've just read was more of a writing exercise, an experiment, than a complete work of fiction in its own right.
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