An affectionate family portrait and a hilarious account of 1970's youth: you'll be sad to see them end
UNLESS***The novel is in part a meditation on writing, as Reta seeks solace in the novel she is working on. Shields gives us the complex ironies of a woman author, reflecting on the implications of writing about a woman author writing about women. Reta ponders the paths her characters have taken in life, worries about giving them jobs, friends and histories. Meanwhile, we observe Shields doing those things for Reta, making us aware of her own choices in crafting this piece of fiction. This self-reflection, while slightly disconcerting, adds a philosophical depth and poignancy to the book. Shields has also written an overtly feminist novel with a straightforwardness—albeit peppered with gentle humor—that seems almost old-fashioned in this postmodern age. She reminds us of the continued invisibility of women thinkers and writers, their exclusion from the very consciousness of the male commentators who shape our culture. Reta Winters, searching for the roots of her daughter’s self-exclusion from society, comes to believe that Norah has succumbed to the realization that she lives in a world in which her voice will not be heard.
Nevertheless, there is warmth and love in this book, an affectionate portrait of a family that, despite Norah’s situation, is refreshingly non-dysfunctional. How rare to read about a happy marriage, about a person deriving pleasure from their work. Happiness, in fact, is the backdrop against which Reta finds it difficult to come to terms with her current loss. This is a quiet but absorbing novel, whose resonances continue to build even after you’ve finished the book.
THE ROTTER’S CLUB****
by Jonathan Coe
Penguin, 2002
Jonathan Coe has delighted readers right from his first outing, and The Rotters’ Club is his most accomplished work yet. This funny, moving and profound novel follows a group of Birmingham teenagers over five years in the 1970s. Coe evokes the era magnificently, conjuring up images ranging from the prog-rock music scene to the tense political climate. Equally successfully, he transports the reader back to school, with affection, yet without a hint of nostalgia. Coe manages to be both a romantic and a realist; he allows us to enjoy his characters’ innocence without ever patronizing them, acknowledging the complexities of youth.
This book is epic in scope, interweaving myriad characters and story threads, from the schoolyard to the factory floor. The large cast of characters centers around Benjamin Trotter, his friends and family. Benjamin is a wonderfully portrayed character, both funny and touching, and we share all his adolescent pain and joy as he tries to negotiate life’s challenges and secure the love of beautiful, haughty Cicely Boyd. But Coe brings startling depth to everyone we meet—even the most minor characters have real flesh to them. We are engrossed by their hopes and disappointments. He is also a very funny writer, and perfectly captures teenage hijinks, innocence and energy. The precocious exerpts from the school magazine are quite simply hilarious.
This book is far more than a teen adventure, however, and has some profound things to say about the society in which these characters grow up. Coe portrays a country living in the shadow of IRA terrorism, and on the cusp between trade unionism and Thatcherism. He brings a stinging relevance to the politics of Britain of the 1970s, showing how the events of those times still reverberate today. But here he folds in his message both more subtly and more effectively than the overtly political farce of What a Carve Up!, his best-known novel to date.
Coe always manages to be immensely readable without being lightweight. His prose sparkles, drawing readers in from the first page and keeping them so enthralled that they wish it would never end. A note at the end of the book announces that a sequel is planned, taking up the characters’ story in the late 1990s. I, for one, can’t wait.
