Firstly, I have to thank Fionnula’s excellent review last year that caused me to add this to my To Read list. I recently saw it on my local library shelves, and decided to read it – I am so glad I did.
There are few writers that come out of the barriers fully fledged with a distinctive style and ideas, as Muriel Spark did. Fortunately, she had literary friends who read the manuscript and championed it, and a new literary star was born. Excluding The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, Spark consistently broke the novel conventions of the day. In this one, she breaks the 4th wall, but instead of the characters talking to the audience, the audience (ie the writer) talks to the characters, well, one in particular. WE don’t find it disconcerting (well, we shouldn’t), but our character Caroline does, just as an audience can feel uncomfortable when we are confronted by an actor on staff deliberately talking to us when we aren’t supposed to be there.
So much is squeezed into this book, and all covered well. Overall, this book is taking a big laugh at contemporary trends in literature of the day. It has “realism” (the Angry Young Men were at their height), a mystery that hints at Cold War paranoia, and religion – particularly the parallels of Anglicanism and Catholicism. Both plot and dialogue are witty, and somewhat caustic. The novel is also partly autobiographical.
Spark had recently converted to Catholicism and was exploring the nuances and the people who flocked to it; she had experienced a nervous breakdown and was recovering; and one of the medications during her breakdown induced hallucinations. Astutely, she worked all this into the novel without making it feel overloaded.
The characters are well rounded and often colourful and eccentric. Many of them resemble the different people Spark associated with in her life – literary and bohemian types, those born into Catholicism as compared to converters, and the wealthy that like to “help” others.
I didn’t understand the title until I encountered Ali Smith’s 2017 review where she explained the title – The Comforters are from the Book of Job. As Job’s trials become more severe, there are people who try to comfort him during this trying time. The same thing is happening here – everyone in Caroline’s social circle are concerned about her mental suffering. And, just as in the Bible, the “comforters” for Job were ineffectual in alleviating his ordeals. Caroline’s friends are all useless too; in fact, they tend to use Caroline’s distress to further themselves – be it having cache in spreading gossip, or to try and manipulate her for their personal gain. I felt a bit dim in not getting what Spark was trying to achieve it, because she does manipulate the title exceedingly well.
What is apparent is the ineptitude of the friends. Laurence is a busybody, and thus one would feel would make a clever detective, but even with all the “clues” surrounding the mystery of his grandmother, and of which we, the reader, see very clearly (Hell! Gran practically tells him), he still isn’t absolutely sure what he has is the truth. Laurence’s mother likes to help people using her influence, but she consistently places inappropriate applicants resulting in disastrous and comic outcomes.
Mrs Jepp the grandmother and her gang are a perfect foil to satirise the Cold War spy novels and in the then contemporary media. The convolutions and passwords are excessive, unnecessary, and complicated to get the stolen goods from her hands to the detailer. All the time the people smuggling the items into Britain repeat the same procedure such that any detective with any intelligence would be able to catch them in the process. This is of course making a mockery of the popular spy thrillers appearing on the screen and in fiction at the time.
This is a clever, satirical novel working on many levels and attacking the popular literary styles and themes of the day. Although an easy book to read, it would not be satisfying to readers who are not familiar with the themes that Sparks pillories.