I suppose that these are the horses from which we are thrown. We see things as we are, not as they are. How do we best see? With eyes old or new? How well do we rise after falling?
Catherine is small and everyone else is big. The world has lots of rules which she cannot keep up with, and lots of things happen that just don't feel right. With Dad gone and Mum at work, Catherine spends her days with Bernard and Pat. These are days that she will never forget but never quite remember, either.
Bernard and Pat is a tour-de-force, a novel deeply aware of the peculiarities of memory and the vulnerability of childhood. Catherine's voice is unforgettable.
An unfolding of one's childhood memories — blurry, vulnerable yet unforgettable. Such a different read! Loved the way Blair James writes. Definitely a fan now.
I picked this up purely for the title; as a child I had neighbours called Pat and Bernard who were like surrogate grandparents to me and my little brother. Told from the point of view of a child called Catherine, this is the story of a little girl looking for a father figure after hers died. The titular couple are her childminders and, sadly, not at all like 'my' Pat and Bernard. Through a child's language we understand that Pat is only really doing it for the money and Bernard likes little girls a little more than a grown man should. It's such a sad tale of a childhood lost and a life wasted due to the effects of such a young trauma.
What an achievement, Blair writes as both child and parent. The inconstancy of memories, some faint and some painfully clear. She places the reader directly in her shoes, unfolding as thoughts do, in a non-linear way. She builds up a picture, a feeling over the course of her first novel that will be familiar to many. A wonderful, unputdownable read!
Although published as a novel, this original and captivating book might also be seen as a prose poem—a dramatic monologue, perhaps. It is both ambitious and circumscribed: although there are characters other than the narrator, they appear only through the filter of her narration, and in place of a plot there is an unfolding, with the book concluding when enough has been revealed. What is revealed is the effects of childhood trauma on an adult mind, and the mode of its revelation is unconventional, as the childhood memories and the voice of the child gradually bleed into the narration of the adult. It's clever and unsettling and it works very well—better, I think than the wildly varying section-lengths, which don't contribute much and look arbitrary rather than planned. I wonder if an academic analysis would reveal a deeper structure? Bernard and Pat feels just a little like case notes in the form of fiction (of course, it's possible that my awareness of the description of its author, Blair James, as a "researcher" might have coloured my judgement here), but it is a undoubtedly a striking and enjoyable work.
Bernard and Pat is an extraordinary novel which defies being bound by any neat labels. At once a mediation on memory and the vulnerabilities of childhood, startling trauma punctuates the prose with the force of a staple gun as Catherine narrates her story, trying to take charge of her own narrative and understand her place in the world. As well an unflinching examination of sexual trauma, this novel is an incredible character study, true to the complex nuances of human nature and personal identity. An amazing achievement.
What’s impressive about this short novel is how delicately it handles the difficult theme. As the reader you feel like you’re right there with the confused little girl who’s trying to make sense of what is happening to her.
It’s told in a series of vignettes, from single sentences to several pages. Sometimes a single sentence acts like a thunderbolt of devastating information that moves our understanding along, and then you get a longer vignette about some seemingly insignificant childhood game. Its like the narrator’s memories resurfacing in an order that their brain can’t help.
Told through the eyes of a child (mostly) and adult - the same person. This accurately and acutely portrays the confusing early years of a young girl whose life is dominated by the death of her father, the almost daily absence of her mother (at work) and her relationships with the titular carers and other children they are looking after. At times quite harrowing, the story is (unhappily) believable and (probably) not uncommon in real life. Very well written, with the author well attuned to the way a youngster sees, understands (or not) and battles through those so-important early years.