A murder in a nightclub has unforeseen repercussions for Nick Jordan, a young and ambitious journalist who moves with the young media set but yearns for the big story, and Orlando Menoni, an exile from Uraguay who works as a cleaner at both Nick's TV company and the club.
Of the four Richards' novels I've read, this probably has the most emotional depth and most overtly political background. The protagonists of his books always seem to be essentially nice people working toward some kind of justice (council housing officer Jamie from Throwing the House Out of the Window or trade unionist Mel from A Sweetheart Deal), and here it's Nick, an investigative journalist for a TV program on wrongly incarcerated people. Richards also tends to throw in some kind of South American connection, which is much more prominent here, in the person of Uruguayan refugee Orlando and his computer nerd son.
Comfortably ensconced in his semi-socially progressive job, with a beautiful social worker girlfriend/partner, Nick seems to be floating through a series of shallow media parties and friendships. One day, a childhood friend asks him to look into the case of a friend who's currently in jail for murder. This favor leads Nick into a darker, more dangerous world, where he is forced to confront his class, the strength of his convictions, and the depth of his relationships. Meanwhile, Orlando, who is cleans Nick's office, tells of his past involvement with the Tupamaro movement, of exile in Chile and Argentina where he falls in love with another revolutionary, and his escape to the West with his family. He finds himself often wondering what it was all for and about, and why he bothered. Each man's story is compelling, as each has made mistakes and is struggling to grasp the meaning of his life. Their paths dovetail in a startling moment, and a shimmer of hope ends the story.
The Silver River interweaves two narratives: that of Nick, a young journalist and documentary maker in London specialising in miscarriages of justice – and Orlando, a middle-aged Uruguayan political refugee and former journalist now eking out a living as a cleaner. As Nick pursues a story involving a bouncer wrongly accused of murdering a punter in a seedy nightclub, the two men’s stories and fates become intertwined… Despite the intriguing premise and a promising start, I found it rather disappointing. The best chapters were those told from Orlando’s POV: his violent and traumatic past as a revolutionary in Uruguay and tragic love affair with Silvia, a fellow-revolutionary, as well as his current melancholy musings about his life in England and his occasional bafflement and dismay at the vastly diverging values and career choices of his son, Claudio, are all moving and subtly drawn. Orlando is an engaging character: charismatic, sensitive and empathetic, a man of strong principles and ideals. Unfortunately, the Nick part of the narrative was far less satisfying: the plot around the nightclub killing wasn’t particularly enthralling and ridden with tropes, and I found Nick rather insufferable: arrogant, smug, patronising. The only remotely interesting thing about him is his whip-smart, feisty partner Caitlin, but he is dismissive of her political views and ends up cheating on her with the mistress of the gangster in charge of security at the club. Well-written but ultimately didn’t really deliver.
I read this today, and enjoyed it a lot. It got me thinking about many things, including: violence, both extreme and "soft", and how we let it too easily ruin us or others; history, and how we never truly understand the past, even if we lived it; and family, and how we can all be one thing while others see something else, everyone something different, and not one of us ever able to truly see a whole other person. I guessed where it was going quite early on, but I don't think this book was about the mystery or destination as much as the unravelling and the journey, and I loved that. I know every opinion is different, but I was surprised to see this rate under 3. I read a couple of short stories by BR years ago, and had a copy of the new puritan collection he was involved with from then, but today ordered four more books by him, and secured a copy of the tv series Outcasts, just to see how he writes about other things.
I was left at the end wondering what the point of it was, other than a lot of sermonising about treating migrant workers well. It didn't seem to have any resolution and the characters were, almost without exception, irritating.