Another Life Altogether by Elaine Beale (Random House of Canada, 2010).
Reviewed by Jean Roberta. 870 words.
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Growing-up-lesbian or coming-out novels seem hard to write well. If the central character is below the age of consent throughout most of the plot, references to sexual feelings (let alone sexual activity) are likely to be so controversial that they distract attention away from all the other elements in the book. Or the author's approach to a character who looks like her younger self might be self-indulgent or patronizing. This absorbing first novel, however, avoids all the usual pitfalls. It's a tragicomic slice-of-life that recreates puberty in a working-class family in northern England in the 1970s. Even if this doesn't sound like your own background, this book will take you there.
Young Jesse is the only child of a mother whose bipolar mood swings are both grimly funny and alarming, and a long-suffering socialist father who regards the Royal Family as the symbol of a decadent class system. Jesse is desperate for acceptance at school, and especially eager to impress a popular girl named Julie, but because of her family, she is doomed to hang out with the other outsiders. These trying circumstances stimulate her creativity, and her story is partly a kunstlerroman, a novel about the development of an artist. Here she tries to improve on reality:
"The day after my mother was admitted to the mental hospital [after a suicide attempt:], I told everyone at school that she had entered a competition on the back of a Corn Flakes box and won a cruise around the world."
Jesse's imaginative letters "from her mother" are full of her own longing to explore the wide world outside her own cramped milieu. They are engaging enough to attract Julie's attention until the inevitable day when neighborhood gossip blows Jesse's cover: "It took a little less than two weeks for word of the real nature of my mother's journey to get around school."
On advice from the doctors at the local mental hospital, Jesse's father decides that a change of scene would be good for the whole family. Therefore they move to a smaller town in Yorkshire which is, if possible, more stifling than their earlier neighborhood in the city of Hull. Almost as soon as she arrives in a town which is literally eroding into the sea, Jesse is banned indefinitely from a local grocery store for accidentally knocking over a display. Hungry for something interesting to read, Jesse discovers a travelling library run by a woman librarian who warns her away from "pornographic" novels such as Jane Eyre. But Jesse has already begun reading her life in terms of literature, and vice versa:
"We had watched Jane Eyre on the television the previous Sunday afternoon, and I felt ashamed to remember now that I had, in fact, imagined my mother as the first Mrs. Rochester, burning down the house and herself to make way for a sensible Jane Eyre-like stepmother for me."
Later on, Jesse identifies her father with the downtrodden Bob Cratchit in Dickens' A Christmas Carol. The significance of literature in her life, including the novel Animal Farm as an ideological connection between Jesse and her potential best friend (a sensitive boy who is harassed for being "gay"), and between both of them and a bold lesbian teacher who demands to be called "Ms. Hastings" (as in the Battle of) weaves through Jesse's real-life adventures.
Jesse's other adult mentors include her sexually-daring Aunt Mabel and the opportunistic boyfriend she almost marries on the belief that she is running out of time to "catch a man," as well as Jesse's narrow-minded Granddad Bennett, who never stops negatively comparing Jesse's father to his sports-star brother, who died after staggering from a pub into the path of a speeding vehicle. The bully that Jesse accepts as a "friend" in order to fit in is a girl of her own age who is clearly influenced by older, more dangerous male bullies, including her own father. Jesse is shown growing up in a deeply male-dominated, gender-divided, homophobic culture in which violence is always possible, yet none of the characters is a stereotype, and all have understandable motives for their behavior.
Jesse's crush on a fascinating older girl, Amanda, is realistic and heartbreaking. Fantasy correspondence is Jesse's forte, and her imagined relationship with Amanda inspires her to write a series of letters to her idol that are never intended to be read. Amanda's misleading treatment of Jesse, and Jesse's discovery of Amanda's secret, look true to life.
All these elements are deftly woven together into a fast-moving plot that rises to a climax before the loose ends are more-or-less resolved in a satisfyingly hopeful conclusion. Jesse's actual life (as distinct from "another life altogether" that she dreams of having) is more worthy of literature than she knows at the time. The narrative style looks as artless as a thirteen-year-old's
stream-of-consciousness while it actually includes symbolism and interlocking motifs.
When the best lesbian/gay/bisexual/transgender novels of the year are nominated for awards at the end of 2010, watch for this one to appear in a list. It has that almost-undefinable quality that persuades readers to believe passionately (on some level) in a fictional world.
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