Unconventional is the catchword this week, as British Novelist Max Porter turns the paradigm of the novel upside down by playing with the very typeset and publication itself, to give the reader something genuinely different.
Contemporary British novelist Max Porter seems to have come into his own recently, having his own serialised fictional series, The Photographer, on BBC Radio 4. That he is someone who cares deeply about literature is undoubted. But for the uninitiated, you can also expect psychological insights in spades in his work, as he plays with -and gives you genuine insights into- the characters that pervade his world. Lanny, his 2019 Booker Prize nominated novel about a boy that goes missing - is the perfect example. In a story about a missing boy, we look to the other characters to shed insight on the hole he has left in his small town.
The star of the piece though, is Dead Papa Toothwort. He is the embodiment of the small town: the hearer of thoughts, the font of all rumor. He is an ethereal creature, pervading consciousness - bringing to life the intimate thoughts and desires of the town in which he lives. And what is he? In the style of Shakespeare, or even traditional folklore, he is a spirit, a protector (perhaps), a trickster (certainly) and guide. He is old; part of the land. He has seen all, and he hears all - the fears and hopes of every character ccome to him as whispers which are presented wonderfully. More on that shortly.
So we know the child, Lanny, goes missing. We do not hear from him for the majority of the book. What then, is the novel about? It is more fairy-tale with social commentary than it is thriller. Do not expect a police procedural, or tales about the daring recovery of a kidnapped boy. It is about a town, whose child, Lanny, the half-present, half absent boy, has left his stamp on.
The chapters are pithy, and the prose short. Each chapter starts with a heading -Lanny’s Mum for instance, so you are certain whose thoughts you are in. Expect anxieties and insecurities, bravado and doubts, braggadocio and humility. Each one of the characters wants to present an aspect of themselves, but remains anxious about how the world sees them. Indeed, of all the people in the book, Lanny's father is the least conspicuous of them - he's an unlikable, selfish thing. And somehow that humanises him. We wished there were more insights into him.
Throughout the novel, Porter plays with everything - from poetry to the way words are laid out on the page. When we inhabit the world of Dead Papa Toothwort, words curl up the sides of the pages - some are bold, others italicised. This adds the the feeling that Dead Papa Toothwort is hearing (and perhaps thriving) on the living thoughts of the inhabitants of the place. It is genius. Porter turns the paradigm of the novel upside down by playing with the very typeset and publication itself, to give the reader something genuinely different.
As the novel deepens, the shifting use of perspectives throughout the book become quicker and deeper. Linguistically, too, there's a lot going on here - particularly towards the end - the novel drops the clues, and now you have to try and work out which character is talking from recognising their innermost thoughts. This is clever, and works because the more comfortable you have got with the characters, the more you can do that.
Ultimately the decision to set it in a fictional village proximate to London is a mistake - and not without its air of social commentary. One is reminded of the Larkin poem Going Going, where the poet mourns the lack of countryside, and the incursion of modernity everywhere. In this way, Lanny hist its three themes: environmentalism, parenthood, and growing up. But - there can surely only be a finite list of such towns like Lanny’s, and while it felt real enough, it also felt more like a concept of an English village, rather than something tangible.
Naturally, in a book about a missing child, there has to be a late stage return, or conclusion to the saga; this is a given. Porter must have known this when he set out to write it, as much as a reader can expect it going in. This is not, really, the point of the book though. It is far more about ‘nature’ and living harmoniously with one’s surroundings. That, at least, is rewarded. And yes, there may be some undercurrents of the left political persuasion interspersed throughout, but this is more of a gentle tapping, than the beating of some activist drum, and it rewards the reader.
Overall, however, the pervasive, wandering features of its Lanny’s fictional town’s denizen’s consciousness that are peppered throughout the book give it a sense of place, and realism. It is about the characters reaction to his absence, and perhaps more importantly, on the Lanny shaped hole each one has in their lives. No, there's not much going on in terms of plot, but there really doesn't need to be. This is an unconventional page turner and one that is easy to enjoy.
Before you go…
If you’re in need of more convincing about Lanny, listen to the author reading it compellingly here.
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Jane Austen’s incomparable Pride and Prejudice
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