Traumatised by a tour of duty in Iraq, Richard Gaunt returns home to his girlfriend with very little of a plan in mind. Finding it difficult to settle into civilian life, he turns to drink and gambling - and is challenged to a bet he cannot resist. All he has to do is walk from London to Oxford in under twelve hours. But what starts as a harmless venture turns into something altogether different when Richard recklessly accepts an unusual request from a stranger ...
Paul Torday burst on to the literary scene in 2007 with his first novel, SALMON FISHING IN THE YEMEN, an immediate international bestseller that has been translated into 28 languages and has been made into a film starring Ewan McGregor, Kristin Scott Thomas and Emily Blunt. His subsequent novels, THE IRRESISTIBLE INHERITANCE OF WILBERFORCE, THE GIRL ON THE LANDING, THE HOPELESS LIFE OF CHARLIE SUMMERS, MORE THAN YOU CAN SAY, THE LEGACY OF HARTLEPOOL HALL and LIGHT SHINING IN THE FOREST, were all published to great critical acclaim. He was married with two sons by a previous marriage, had two stepsons, and lived close to the River North Tyne. He died at home in December 2013.
More Than You Can Say is the fifth novel by British author, Paul Torday. Richard Gaunt is unemployed, in debt and his tally of friends is quickly diminishing. So when Ed Hartlepool makes a bet with him in the wee small hours, he is determined to win: he will walk from London to Oxford by 1pm. But then a black Range Rover knocks him off the road, and Richard’s plans go awry in a major way. Missing the bet deadline soon becomes the least of his worries.
He finds himself in a bizarre situation, and makes decisions that the old Richard, the one who hadn’t yet served in Iraq and Afghanistan, would never have made. Something of the fateful “why not?’ attitude that operated during his tour of duty takes control, and more than once, he is embarrassed and therefore reticent to explain just what led to these unwise choices.
Torday provides a backstory for Richard in the form of flashbacks to his time in the Middle East and, afterwards, the deterioration of his relationship with his family, friends and his fiancée, Emma. While for the reader, the sense of “this can’t end well” may be overwhelming, Torday still manages to include some black humour, the odd twist to keep things interesting and an exciting climax.
Torday’s characters are familiar and believable; it is easy to care for Richard even while shaking one’s head at his poor choices. Torday explores subjects both topical and eternal: the long-lasting and far-ranging effects of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; the role of foreign powers in the Middle East conflicts; and the importance of a strong belief in what you are doing.
Torday said he trying to find the “ultimate novel” and wrote compulsively: each of his seven novels is a different genre, and he describes More Than You Can Say as an old-fashioned adventure story. This edition also contains a reading guide and a preview of the next book Torday wrote: The Legacy of Hartlepool Hall. Several characters from previous (and future) novels play a role in this novel: Torday’s characters tend to do this. This is another brilliant novel by Paul Torday: thought-provoking, funny and entertaining.
The first part of this story is totally ridiculous and my thoughts were that none of this could possibly ever happen. However, as the story unfolds, it becomes more and more plausible, until, eventually, I began to think that these events could really, actually happen. That is what I would call very clever story telling.
Paul Torday is an incredibly imaginative author. I liked this book very much indeed and would recommend it to any of my friends.
All that stopped me from awarding five stars was that it tended to ramble in places. In an action packed thriller, that can be most frustrating! Don't let that put you off though. It is well worth reading.
I picked up this book almost in desperation as there seemed to be nothing worth reading in my local library. The resume on the cover sounded daft but I thought I would give it a try anyway.
Mr Torday can certainly write an interesting tale. At first a somewhat uninspiring start gradually builds into a story of intrigue which makes you want to keep reading in spite of yourself. The story is so unusual as it builds into something unexpected via a series of twists like an Alpine road. Shot through with flashbacks building a sometimes annoying backstory, I found myself totally absorbed in the plot. The speed with which I read the novel is a testament in itself and I have just taken another of Torday's novels from the library today.
It's more meaningful than I expected at first. Maybe we don't have the ability to heal the scars we got, or even let others know how painful we are. We still can try to be normal. Try to find the way to be happiness.
When I finished this book I was dissatisfied and unconvinced, the reason I gave it three stars is because it has made me think hard about Torday and what was he trying to convey.
Was I meant to feel sorry for the main character, Richard, because he has endured unspeakable horrors during his career in the British army during his time in Afghanistan? Yes, he was damaged and PTSD but I could only see him as a selfish and self indulgent prat who joined the army because it was expected of him and much easier than making a real life choice. He went to war because he was told to. This made think of what must a huge number of people who join armed forces because it is either expected or an easy career choice, not for any real belief in the "greater good". And, yes, they pay for it for the rest of their lives, mentally and physically. Was that what Torday was saying?
Then there was the people who do have a belief, as did Adeena. In reality she probably didn't have much choice because of her parents and their close association with the Taliban and literally growing up in a Taliban camp. Yep, I could get that and she is probably the character who derserves our sympathy.
Then there was the out and out baddie who is in it for the money, not the cause, as with Aseeb.
But, what I found lacking in this book was the absense of a sense of drama and tension. He certainly would never get a job script writing for "Spooks", therefore I was unconvinced. The torture, suicide bombers, horrific wounds in the war, mental stress and a sense of not being able to cope with life once back in London were all too soft. Richard's appalling treatment of his girlfriend, his lack of direction, the crush he developed for Adeena, his complete reluctance to seek counselling for his nightmares and PTSD, and his self indulgent, destructive behaviour, however, were believeable and maybe that is what Torday was trying to tell me. Whatever the reason for going to war, the results are lifelong and irreversable, as is the effect on the indivual and everyone they have contact with no matter how they deal (or not) with life post-war. I think this why, in the last sentence, Torday sent Richard back to the Diplomatic Club where it all started. Maybe I did get it?? Or maybe I am just looking for excuses for a not so good book when I have enjoyed his others so much. Looking forward to seeing Salmon fishing in the Yemen when it gets released.
My initial expectations of what this book was, and where the plot would go were completely blown out of the water. It starts a rather unbelievable opener surrounding Richard's irresponsible betting habits, and turns into something I wouldn't have imagined. For that alone, Torday is extremely likable. His writing is full of style and has very well constructed dialogue, meaning it makes for an incredibly fast read.
The characters are a little undeveloped, and it seems at times that I've missed a huge backstory, or even another novel. They're also rather shallow seeming, the only exception being Adeena, and for that they're instantly unlikable.
I usually shy away from novels centered around modern war, not because I can't emotionally take the mental pictures, but because it is often written in a very solemn, uninteresting way. Torday flips this, creating a rich backstory for his protagonist, but unfortunately left me disappointed. I felt the symptoms of Richard's PTSD could have been developed more, and the flashbacks were explored in far too little detail. Richard's memories, and his visit to Seargent Hawkes were the highlight for me, and I wished the novel had taken a different route so we could explore it more.
At the end though, I have to admit that this was a very enjoyable read, and I'll probably read again.
Paul Torday excels at getting inside the head of weak men. This protagonist is weak because he was emotionally crippled by serving in Iraq and Afganistan. He can certainly 'take care of himself' as the saying goes, but he cannot manage his life for toffee. As usual, there is a real off-the-wall aspect to this Torday offering, and I loved it.
Paul Torday called his work an adventure story, so I figured it might be a good read to join me on my own adventure, a train journey through Italy (Milan, Rome and Amalfi Coast). I bought the book in 2015 in a little store near Madame Tussauds in London, partly because of the cover and partly because it sounded ridiculous: a guy trying to walk from London to Oxford in under 12 hours. I'm not sure what my 15-year-old self was expecting from this but the book turned out to be dealing with more serious matters as the story unfolds such as PTSD and the war on terror. That's why I'm glad to not have found the time to read it back then. I wouldn't have gotten through. I might have liked some passages: the more romantically written ones that seem to not be fitting to the rest of the book's style:
It had been a wonderful place to grow up. I had scrambled among those hills as a child, had lain on the floor in the bookfilled space that my parents had used as a drawing room, reading every book they would let me get my hands on.
It was another soft autumn day [...] As we rode among the trees a golden light filtered through the branches and I felt a great sense of well-being.
But I would've stopped as it came to war stories. Although the author claims that 'More Than You Can Say' is not a political book, in a way I feel that it is. And now that I'm older, I feel more able to digest the information and views Torday is giving through this book. Having grown up in a post 9/11 world the excistence of terrorism and war in the middle east has always been a given that I never gave much thought. But especially the following passages have driven me to do my own research on the topic.
'Why do British and American soldiers come to such a poor country? I understand about Iraq. You want their oil. But in Afghanistan there is nothing.'
'The Taliban never used to grow opium' said Adeena. [...] 'Now they grow it, it is true, but only to get money for the fight against the British and the Americans.'
It was a war on terror which had produced yet more terror and everyone had already forgotten how it started, what lies had been told, or what truths had emerged.
I like how the author created this character of Adeena. How we get to know her, understand her, start to adore her just as Richard does. So that her actions really get to us and make us think so much about the topic. So I think I can say this book opened my eyes and that it is one of those I would recommend to people who want to expand their horizon... that is for the content and the thoughts and stories the author brings across. When it comes to the way he does that I have to admit that I didn't really like it: packed into this weird and unlikely story that sounds when being retold like the author was on drugs while writing it. I mean it's okay I had some good laughs and surprises because of this randomness but at the same time I always wished for some more reason and realness.
Some other quotes that I liked/ that made me think: I was almost angry with her for being sorry when everything was so very much my fault. 'Why not?' stopped you from asking yourself 'Why' [...] 'Why not?' wasn't really a question at all: it was a way of life.
A novel of improbabilities as well as logical outcomes, Torday's book concerns a veteran from the wars in the Middle East who now attempts to reclaim his former life in the UK and finds himself in a surreal situation.
The idealistic John Gaunt who entered the service with lofty goals had become disillusioned by the actual work he did as a member of Task Force Black along with his half-platoon of specialists. While their purpose was to gather intelligence and disrupt the insurgents on behalf of those who did the fighting, Gaunt was troubled about the fluidity of their goals and how the difference between support and direct action was often blurred. His only recourse over time turned out to be deadening his feelings; he stopped caring about what went on with those captured. And then his tour of duty was over.
Back at home in Great Britain, after resuming his former life, during one evening of drinking and poker, he accepted a wager. This was from Ed Hartlepool, a friend whose cards were not as good as Gaunt's and now owed him a debt of three thousand pounds. Of course, Ed was hoping to avoid paying it. And so he offered Gaunt a bet of "double or quits." Gaunt was to walk from Oxford to London in less than twelve hours and show up for lunch with Ed at a restaurant at one o'clock sharp. On time meant he'd receive a check of six thousand pounds; one minute late, the debt of three thousand would be cancelled.
It is this walk which sends Gaunt's life at a ninety-degree turn and embroils him in a series of events which become more surprising than any walking adventure he had imagined.
Torday creates characters who are interesting and believable, real in their interactions and motives. The story is both real, even relevant, as well as imaginative in ways that kept me reading it all in one sitting. (280 p.)
I'm now looking for his other four books.
Four and a half stars (I wished it was a bit longer though it ended in the right place.) Adult fiction 978-0-7538-2688-1 Phoenix
The writing of this novel was beautiful, everything described in a off-hand sort of way, completely regardless of the depth it withholds.
'More than you can say' is a story of life after military service, of love, of crime, of wrongs and misdirection. It is the story of a man who lost his way and never found it again, never cared to.
This story tells of a man named Richard who goes to serve in Afghanistan, hearing, seeing, and doing the unspeakable. He comes back, his family and girlfriend eagerly welcome him home, but Richard just cannot seem to adjust. His attempt at civilian life falls apart. On his own, Richard falls to a rut of gambling, drinking, and sometimes work. Then something strange happens, he gets kidnapped from the side of the road. The man behind the event ends up offering him a very odd deal, ten thousand pounds if Richard will marry a girl chosen by kidnapper. Richard agrees, and off we go on a roller coaster of action, suspense, and reflections on the war in Afghanistan. I, personally, was unable to expect a single event in the flow of a well thought out plot.
The story ends in a sort of loop, ending almost exactly where it began. What that means, I won't give away, but I will say that despite the melancholy of an open ending, what happens between the beginning and then, is a wild ride and definitely worth the read.
I enjoyed this short but gripping read. Paul Torday has a talent for writing that feels very natural, chatty even. This story (the third of his books I've read) was probably his best, in my opinion. I loved the character of Richard and his awkward awfulness. Torday's wafting male heroes are perfectly useless (think Hugh Grant or Colin Firth in typical sweet but pathetic characters). I don't know too much about PTSD but Torday was clever in just hinting about it, with careful flashbacks that provide the reader with a suggestion of the horrors of modern war, but without being overly melodramatic. The romantic back story was woven in so gently to the main narrative it was almost imperceptible, yet so important for the fullness of Richard's character. Nick was fabulous, if a little prototypical, and Khan and Adina were the perfect mystery antagonists. Multifaceted and intriguingly unreliable, Adina was a brilliant muse for Richard's almost drunken behaviour and his ultimate heroism.
A bit of a curate's egg, this one. It can be enjoyed as a light Buchanesque thriller though it also ties to throw in elements of the alienating effects of post traumatic stress disorder following tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan, unbalancing both strands. Then again it's perfectly readable and engaging.
Another quick entertaining read. I loved the first half especially, that part was 4 star. Towards the end I felt it got rather "blokey", military/anti-terrorism/secret service etc.
It certainly is a page-turner, a fast read. But I am in two minds about this book. I wish I could explain my dithering. Maybe once I have had time to digest it a bit I'll be able to say more. For the moment though I think this is worth at least 3.5 stars.
It is refreshing to read a novel written by a male writer for a change. This novel has been well crafted and focuses largely on characterisation and political issues surrounding the war in Iraq and Afghanistan. There are suspenseful moments and unexpected twists in the story. What I find interesting is the multi textured element of the novel that touches on the protagonist's post war trauma and his failed past relationships as well as the political climate and the whole purpose of military involvement in active war zones. The ultimate question surrounding events in the novel is 'What really is the purpose of life and how do we find meaning and fulfillment out of it?'
it's a bad sign when you pick a book to read for what you think is the first time, only to discover you've read it before. it's a worse sign when although you know you've read it, you can't remember the plot at all. it's thoroughly depressing to finish the book realizing you didn't particularly enjoy it the first time either. Whether or not this is a sign of Alzheimer's, I don't know. Either way, it means I spent this time rereading a mediocre novel when j could have read any one of a gazillion previously unread books that potentially could have provided at least a little more pleasure.
Meh. That was my first reaction when I finished the book. Since I have been out of reading for so long, and my main bulk of reading is not done in the department of this particular genre, I cannot say whether my 'gulping' of the book, i.e. reading it cover to cover fairly quickly, is due to the writer's abilities of pulling a reader in or my need to know the end (and no, I cannot jump to the end and just be done with it, I have the compelling urge to travel the literary road completely, start to finish). So the first, and one of the only, point for this book is the way it dragged me in and made it hard for me to put down. As a result, I finished reading it at 3 in the morning.
It is an easy read, fairly straight forward (in general), and moves along quite quickly. You don't tread in place for very long, or at all. However, it does leave some scenes wanting, though it is not plagued with the had-an-idea-so-I-ran-with-it-but-forgot-to-go-back-and-add-details feeling.
I do not expect every adventure/mystery novel to be a completely surprising. They rarely are anymore, the basic twists and turns are pretty much expected. However, too blatant foreshadowing ruins even the most trivial story lines. First Person Narration is mostly hurt (if not mostly plagued) by it, because once a character hints at a possibility and then ignores it, big, red, neon signs are lit up "danger, danger". When it is repeated, it also makes the character seem, well, to put it bluntly, dumb. Add to that a character whose mantra is "don't think", and you, as a reader, get the feeling that someone offended your intelligence.
Also, I know that most books have an agenda, a point, other than the plot, that they want to get across. Well, not books, but their writers. I'm aware that the matter of subtlety in this matter has been lost, or, rather, the ability to pass said point elegantly. While some books shove it down your throat, others, as this book, manage to make it quite delicate. Problem was, that while delicate, a) it could be seen a mile away (though I've already mentioned the subtlety issue); and b) it was not compelling. I did not read the opening notes (I never do before I read the book, a clean start), so I did not know what he was aiming at, but it was pretty clear almost for the start. To make it clear, he's trying to make a point about PTSD and the society's handling of army veterans in general. While it was obvious he aimed at these issues, I felt he missed them. I felt the main character was messed-up before he joined the army (with the very little information we have on how he was before), and afterwards he just seemed psychotic regardless of his service. I think bringing this very important issue on the table requires a different genre altogether, or a longer and more psychological book, one that isn't focused on the action, but rather the REaction. Despite the good intentions and the characterization of a man incapable of real emotional connection who's trying not to think, it didn't come off as a PTSD, but rather as an obnoxious and unrelatable character. It (the book, the story, the character) needs more depth, more poking fingers into the unpleasant places. More rawness, jabbing a hot poker into the wound. It's a bit too willy-nilly on this important issue.
I have trouble with books where I find the main character unpleasing. It is a serious problem when the terms I'd use to describe a character are: Stupid, emotionally numb, and psychotic. Of course, when we're talking about a character who is supposed to evoke empathy, it is even worse.
At the end, despite all that happened and could happen, two things occurred that annoyed me: 1. A forced happy ending - I am quite allergic to those, especially in non-romance literature (not that the forced happy endings in romance don't give me the hives, it's just they are more genre acceptable). While I guess some would argue it is not necessarily a happy ending (it is quite an open one), I still feel it is, especially because it feels forced. It doesn't feel natural, just sort of a filler to tie a loose end and to give hope to our beloved hero. I would see it end in a completely different way. Mind you, I am talking strictly about the last chapter, an afterward of sorts, and not the resolution of the mystery plot. It (i.e. mystery plot) was resolved, if not to my satisfaction, to an expected and presumable outcome (if you accept the premises in the plot up until then, that is). 2. Despite all that has gone through, despite all the realizations and enlightenment our hero had gone through, he has not evolved or grown one single centimeter. He stayed the same, but, mainly because of point 1, it doesn't seem like a human being that got stuck in place, rather like a book character that has not evolved. And in such a story, with such revelations, progress must be made.
To sum it up: I didn't like the main character, the moral seemed forced, and the ending fake. However, it is written in an engaging way, and the action plot is quite an interesting one (though not entirely innovative). I probably will not read this book again, but I cannot say that I would stay away from other books by the same writer.
Big twist! Momentum fizzled out towards the end and the last handful of chapters were hard work. Some student of critical analysis would say the rise and fall of the narrative reflected the spirits of the protagonist but I’m not ao sure I this case. 4*
I like Paul Torday’s writing if not a little quirky at times. I like how he interlinks characters between different books. I felt a little like I was left hanging with the ending but all the same I understood the intent.
I loved Girl on the Landing so thought i would love this one too. I enjoyed it but sadly not as much. As an adventure book it was good but without spoiling the end I felt very sad for Richard.