The Pulteney Arms, Bath, March 28th 2013. Present: SC, CW, RA, RG, CB, RV
A respectable six gathered to discuss Golding's
rapidly-written second novel. Selected by Steve because he'd become very
familiar with the spine in his youth, when it occupied one of the shelves in
the upstairs toilet, and had subsequently retained an uneasy feeling of
unfinished business…
Fair to say the club shot off in all directions over this.
Two contrasting but eminently enjoyable reviews are quoted later in their
entirety – because they're worth it – but before those, here are some selected thoughts.
A number of us had difficulty in relating to events and
locations as they were described. Despite the extensive foreword that explained
how Golding went to great lengths to ensure he'd got the topography right (by
asking a fellow teacher), there was a common struggle to visualise the details of the action. To some extent this was because Golding wanted us to understand that the
surroundings meant everything to the protagonists. So events were so bound up
in the setting that it was of critical importance to be able to see it – to
have a picture. Some of us felt Golding fell a bit short in carrying that off.
The book was undoubtedly thought-provoking. One of our longer
discussions ensued, covering Neanderthal/Homo Sapiens overlap, black/white skin
(wouldn't the first Homo Sapiens have been black?). Intelligent use of
different styles to point up the gulf between the two: the compelling innocence
of Lok against the sinister plotting and wider knowledge (and two-syllable name
– Bath Rugby eat your hearts out) of Tuami.
RV made the point that the book contained strong references
to and inferences of lost skills, along with the lost innocence of the
Neanderthals. These included telepathy or certainly to knowing (and trusting)
something without understanding what it was.
Scores ranged between a sandpapered 3 and a sangria-fuelled
9.8. This month's contest to win a slightly-foxed edition of 'Fanny's Fancies'
(1963) is to identify the reviewer responsible for each of those scores. Neil
wrote:
'I have a picture.
There is a large pile of stones like a cave and inside
people are talking and drinking off-honey from clear jars, but I am not there.
I am in a hot place, much sand, I am not by the sea, but it is nearby. I have a
square black stone and it has many words. When I touch it more words come, and
more and more. Words, like twig and log and stag, but they do not mean twig or
log or stag and it hurts my head. Outer Neil wants to be clever and make the
people clap, but inner Neil is sad and heavy because of all the words he cannot
make sense of. The New People like these words and say it is clever, but I am
one of the people from the overhang who does not share this picture and thinks
the words are like when the people go to the river and instead of making water
they make the other thing...these words are the other thing. Maybe if I touch
the stone again tomorrow some new words will be there about old Mal climbing
out of a hole in the stone cave and could not be found and these words will be
simple and make Neil laugh and talk.'
(Neil was stuck in Dubai for work while reading the book).
And this is Mark Th's view:
'Neil’s
excellent spoof of the Inheritors came close to the anxieties I had before
re-reading it. I had read and really enjoyed this book in my early twenties and
was worried that second time around – like Crime and Punishment – it would
seem only half the book I remembered from my relative youth. In particular I
wondered if Golding’s conceit of making the Neanderthals gentle and loving and
showing humans as inherently violent would feel effective on second reading,
and also the Neanderthal mindset might seem unconvincing or silly. In this case
though, the book was just as rewarding second time around. It still seems
extraordinary that a writer would take the risk of writing a novel (mainly)
from the point of view of a Neanderthal and manage to tell a story that grips
as much as this did. Even more bravely he chose the least intelligent of the
group who is innocently unable to comprehend what he is seeing at all and so
cannot ‘get’ the new people that have moved in. I can sympathise with the view
that this means the reader cannot know exactly what is happening and has to
infer what might be going on and that this can be frustrating. But I did not
mind this at all and felt that the last chapter resolved, at least in a general
sense, what had been going on as the humans panicked, fell back on ritualistic
behaviour and demonised the Neanderthals. The penultimate chapter where he pans
back and describes Lok's ending was so powerfully moving that it comes to mind
well after the end of the book. I loved the way he created a sense of the
Neanderthal outlook - locked in the present, tied to the senses and with (like
a young human child) little working memory and limited ability to think
logically. The picture of humans as seeking to survive but also seeking power,
being fearful of outsiders and capable of justifying extreme violence towards
those we have caricatured as evil (Saddam, Jews, Tutsis, Bosnian muslims etc)
was deeply shocking when presented in this simple and stark way (though my
reservation is that the book is perhaps too pessimistic in its take).'
(Mark was
on holiday).
More words
than usual but I honestly can't think of anything to add to those two reviews –
thanks for contributing them!
