Babel Tower by A S Byatt is a long book. It is also a difficult book in that it presents its reader with multiple perspectives, a novel within a novel, a marriage break-up, a flirtation with religion and philosophy, various intellectual discussions, plus intellectual, social and psychological comment. All this is wrapped outside the life of Frederica, Babel Tower’s principal character, who features in some form or other throughout Byatt’s tetralogy, in which Babel Tower comes third. On previous occasions, I have tried to read this novel, and I found its apparent meanderings distracting. As a result I have given up trying to read it. Suddenly, it seems, I understand what the novelist is trying to do and now the experience of finishing Bible Tower Leaves me moved in a way that no other novel has ever provoked. The experience is stunning, but overall the whole experience is, if anything, disquieting for reasons I will outline.
First the bones of the book. Frederica is married to Nigel. They have a son, Leo, and they live in a big historical house - a family seat with a moat, no less - in the west of England. Nigel, the husband, is in business and is often away, leaving Frederica and Leo in the capable hands of two unmarried sisters and a housekeeper, all of whom live in and help to care for Leo. Frederica is desperately unhappy, lonely, and feeling constrained because Nigel has discouraged her from having a life of her own, except for that of a stay-at-home wife and mother. A literature graduate, she feels the need for participation in academic pursuits.
Things come to head when, by chance, she meets an old college friend who happens to be on a hiking holiday. There are other friends, who call round to the family home. Nigel becomes jealous. There are altercations and Frederica leaves, taking her son. She tries to set up a home, a new life in London, sharing accommodation because she can’t afford her own, and doing part-time work to make ends meet. Both she and Nigel file divorce proceedings, The custody of Leo is of course at issue.
We are in the early and mid-1960s. Dope smoking, a Labour government, LSD and flower power, plus “happenings” are all happening. Frederica does some part-time work, teaching a literature class to adults and art students, because the diploma course they enrolled upon has been upgraded to a degree. She also reads slush manuscripts for a publisher to see if there might be anything of value in the unsolicited pile.
Jude models for life classes in the same college. He is a strange person who will not only rarely washes, but he also smells. It turns out that he has written a book, inspired by Fourier, Sade and Nietzsche. It is a fantasy set just after the French Revolution, where ideas of freedom, free love and idealism are tried out in a community, under the “leadership” of someone called Culvert. The novel is called, interestingly, Babbletower, implying that it is “babble” or drivel, but the publisher thinks it has merit and may sell. Frankly, it is the kind of “fantasy” novel that nowadays occupies many shelf metres in airport bookshops. The text of Babbletower is delivered in chunks within Babel Tower, and the shift from sometimes overpowering reality to fantasy land is a transition that many readers might find tiresome. But the text of Babbletower is important for Babel Tower because the book is eventually subject to legal action to ban it as obscene and likely to corrupt its readers. It is worth remembering that the setting is the mid-60s.
Thus two court cases form the later part of the novel. First, there is the divorce of Frederica and Nigel, and then the obscenity trial against Jude’s Babbletower. There is, of course, much more going on in this novel and the only way to appreciate it’s breadth is to read it. But the divorce, with its claim and counter claim by Frederica and Nigel, and then the obscenity trial, with references to Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover, and also occasionally to Tolkien’s Ring fantasy, the Hobbit and bedtime stories are crucial. In the divorce proceedings, there are testimonies by Frederica and Nigel, of course, but also from Nigel’s two sisters and the housekeeper. In the obscenity trial, there are contributions from “experts” of various kinds, each of which in theory is designed to offer a different perspective on the merits or otherwise of the book. The outcomes of these trials are the very substance of Babel Tower.
But it is the characters who make this book such a success and underpinning all of them is their intellectual life. This, along with the assumptions that this forces upon them, mean that they all see events from their own perspectives. All of them seem to lack the vision to see beyond their own point of view, and some of the “expert” analyses reveal themselves to be no more than self-obsession.
Byatt often describes physical attributes in detail, often concentrating on clothing. For instance, she describes how the art students in Federica’s literature class “are all uniformly different” in their appearance, implying that the role they play creates an unwritten but understood need to conform. Often, she manages to convey class and professional associations through the clothes that her characters wear. Indeed, she often notices and records every detail the women’s clothes, whereas the men are often in “dark suits”, implying their desire for anonymity, despite their controlling influence.
Frederica is a young woman who enjoys sex and regularly seeks it out. Her behaviour is contrasted with the free love of the Babbletower fantasy and of course becomes an issue in the divorce proceedings. A biologist at one point (speaking of snails) describes sex as “a blind drive… like … antibodies breeding found diseased cells, or viruses hurrying along in our blood.” Frederica lives this description, though there is often emotional involvement as well. But the reader has a feeling that these characters are enacting the only lives that for them are possible. They are not constrained by their genes, but they do live them.
When we reach the two trials, we find that each testimony is given from the standpoint of “me”, whoever that might be. In the whole book, there does not seem to be a single character - save occasionally Frederica’s brother-in-law, Daniel - who ever sees anything from a point of view that is not their own. Daniel, a clergyman, has deserted his own Yorkshire-based children after his wife’s death and lives to offer support on a telephone crisis service in London. He too is therefore revealed, despite his overt concern for others, to be primarily fulfilling his own selfish needs. Indeed, Frederica, towards the end of the book observes the following: “…what she thought was a grown-up world, and believed to operate by logic, operates in fact according to the system created out of its own prejudices and emotions, which cannot be second-guessed.” Everyone behaves selfishly, because that is the way we are.
Thus, we have in AS Byatt’s Babel Tower a shared project, called human life, where each of the participants pursue their own personal agenda, dealing with others by only seeing themselves reflected and essentially living a purely selfish existence. This is why Babel Tower is so profound and why it packs a powerful intellectual and emotional punch. The reader can identify with all of these, deeply human, deeply selfish people.