Goodness me, this one goes back a long way! Byatt has good ideas and she uses language well but there is a strange lack of definition in some places. For example, the name of a character, a pronoun, and what she says and does might not quite align properly, so that you feel as though you are looking at the world through a stranger’s glasses.
Things often don’t quite gel. Which character is “she”? What happens between Stephanie and Daniel in the room with Miss Wells? Where are Frederica and Mr Wilkes standing when they have their conversation about Greek mythology and its representation in Renaissance art? Why are there friezes on the walls?
Such questions bedevil the reader of this otherwise intriguing novel, the beginning of which is set in (contemporary 1970s) London, followed by an extended flashback to a regional town in the north of England in the 1950s, just after the war. People in the town are celebrating the anticipated coronation of Elizabeth II by putting on a play about Elizabeth I, the Virgin Queen. There’s plenty of opportunity for the author to examine post-war attitudes and mores, and to perform commentary on the same.
Some interesting highlights from the part of the book I finished (I got up to page 184 before putting it down) are the autistic son of a woman Daniel, the curate, is concerned with. Then there’s Frederica’s and Stephanie’s brother Marcus who is a talented actor but who does not like acting. Marcus has visions that disturb him and these are well-handled, providing a view of the world that will be at variance to most people’s. It is hard to show how life feels for a young person, when you are a mature author, but Byatt does well in this case.
One wonders if she was aware, however, of how stuffy she sounds when she talks about morality, science, or art. To what degree is she mimicking the ways that the average person, alive at the time, saw the world, and to what degree does she share their ideas? I suspect that the latter is true. For this reason, Byatt, now, seems dated and of-her-time rather than innovative. Which is a shame, but there you go.
Things often don’t quite gel. Which character is “she”? What happens between Stephanie and Daniel in the room with Miss Wells? Where are Frederica and Mr Wilkes standing when they have their conversation about Greek mythology and its representation in Renaissance art? Why are there friezes on the walls?
Such questions bedevil the reader of this otherwise intriguing novel, the beginning of which is set in (contemporary 1970s) London, followed by an extended flashback to a regional town in the north of England in the 1950s, just after the war. People in the town are celebrating the anticipated coronation of Elizabeth II by putting on a play about Elizabeth I, the Virgin Queen. There’s plenty of opportunity for the author to examine post-war attitudes and mores, and to perform commentary on the same.
Some interesting highlights from the part of the book I finished (I got up to page 184 before putting it down) are the autistic son of a woman Daniel, the curate, is concerned with. Then there’s Frederica’s and Stephanie’s brother Marcus who is a talented actor but who does not like acting. Marcus has visions that disturb him and these are well-handled, providing a view of the world that will be at variance to most people’s. It is hard to show how life feels for a young person, when you are a mature author, but Byatt does well in this case.
One wonders if she was aware, however, of how stuffy she sounds when she talks about morality, science, or art. To what degree is she mimicking the ways that the average person, alive at the time, saw the world, and to what degree does she share their ideas? I suspect that the latter is true. For this reason, Byatt, now, seems dated and of-her-time rather than innovative. Which is a shame, but there you go.
I'm not sure whether you can reasonably refer to "the part of the book I finished" if you didn't finish the book. Surely you mean "the part of the book I read"?
ReplyDeleteI read and really enjoyed The V in the G when it came out in a large format Penguin in about 1983 and revisited it when I read 2 of the sequels (I don't think I ever got up to "The Whistling Woman," which is sequel 3). I wonder if I'd dismiss it as readily as you do were I to pick it up now.
I can send you my copy if you want to read it again. Happy to pay the postage cost if that suits ..
ReplyDeleteMatthew, thanks for the kind offer. Sorry to be so slow to acknowledge it. I recently posted a book (smaller than this) to WA and it cost $9 something. Intrastate it would be a bit over $7 I think. Commonsense rebels against that, even if the expense were to be yours. I can always borrow it from the library.
ReplyDeleteYou should take me up on the offer. I don't mind using a few dollars to post a book that, otherwise, will be sent to the op shop. Send me an email with an address I can use.
ReplyDelete