When I first moved to Manchester, I lived almost opposite a Victorian church; the vicar specialised in enigmatic messages on the notice board outside and the one I particularly remember was ‘You are not what you think you are, but what you think you are’. Much later I worked out what it mean, but it used to amuse and puzzle me.
I am at present struggling my way through a novel for book club; it is written by a very eminent political commentator and journalist, a man who has worked in various roles including reporter, political editor and columnist, on the Independent, the Economist, the Daily Telegraph and the Observer among many publications. He has been a political editor on TV, had his own TV programme, his own radio show, presented a variety of series and documentaries and other programmes, and been a commentator on state occasions. He has supported and promoted charities, received awards and written a number of well-received books on politics, history and journalism. He has also written a book about art – he had a serious stroke and art was part of his therapy.
So the book I am reading… it is not one of his history books, or political commentaries, nor is it his book on art. It is a novel. Now this man, as you can tell is an extremely well-respected writer, a renowned journalist, and as a speaker, interviewer or commentator he is clever, witty, shrewd, and can actually be very funny… however, I’m not finding the book as engaging, exciting, or actually as well written as I had expected.
It is a novel about politics, set in the future, a political thriller, I guess, and revolves round the debate on whether Britain should leave Europe. It’s not badly written, but for me it doesn’t work as a novel. There are too many characters, and too many who are caricatures or otherwise unbelievable; they are all closely described in great detail, many have extraordinary names and I’m forever leafing back to try and remember who they are. I have become totally confused between the prime minister and the owner and the editor of a newspaper, and between the politicians on either side of the debate. The premise of the novel is farcical, but I don’t find myself laughing, I find myself exasperated – Tom Sharpe’s novels such as ‘Riotous Assembly’ are farcical and ludicrous but they have a sense and reality within themselves that holds them together – with this novel I just find it ridiculous… I’m not carried along by it. The action is complex, muddling and not engaging (‘Who are these people? Why are they here? What are they supposed to be doing?’) and actually I find myself tempted to skip pages just to get through the book.
This novel is well written, but somehow it seems as if the writer is admiring his own cleverness and laughing at his own jokes. I think it could be funny as a drama, written with a light touch and good actors… but as a novel… a thumbs down from me.
The write is an excellent journalist, a great writer about history and politics, but on this first novel I am not convinced he is a great novelist.
This is what the Guardian had to say:
http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/sep/10/head-of-state-andrew-marr-review-novel-politics
… and the Daily Telegraph:
Lois Elsden 