Number 67- The Night watch- Sarah Waters

 

This is the last of the 4 books I read last week. This one took about a day and a half when I had nothing else to do.

I read Fingersmith a few years back. After a twist I didn't see coming a third of the way through, I thought it descended into entirely predictable melodrama and was underwhelmed. I did like her writing style, but the story was somewhat lacking.

It's taken a while to try her writing again. 

This one is set in 1947, 1944 and 1941 in that order. It follows a loosely connected group of characters in the aftermath of WWII in London, and then takes us back to the events which shaped their lives.

This leads to some quite major narrative issues.  Because we never return to the 1947 timeline, I would have liked to see some endings to their storylines. Duncan has a loose ending to his story, but he's the only one. All other characters are just left at random stages in their relationships with no resolution to any plot points.

The reverse chronology is interesting in that it lets us fill in gaps as we read, but it's the only real point of interest in the narrative. Run in the usual order, this would be a perfectly standard story of assorted relationships. I was never bored reading this, but I did find myself wondering, about 200 pages in, when the story was going to start.  When I got to the end of the book, I'm not entirely sure it ever had done.

The section with the backstreet abortion is shocking and graphic in its detail and really does open a huge unanswered question about why she is still with the father of the baby in 1947. 

One of the biggest questions running through the book is why was Duncan in prison? In 1947 he's been released, in 1944 he's incarcerated but near the end of his sentence. The section in 1941 that explains it should be a dramatic highpoint of the book.  Instead it's one of the most ridiculous things I've read in years. It is truly farcical on what, in skilled hands, should have been an emotionally charged finale to his storyline. When dealing with the subject matter at hand in a serious novel, this chapter is almost offensively played for laughs.

People talk about men not being able to write women. This book pretty much demonstrates that Sarah Waters is very bad at writing men.

Her prose is nice. Her stories so far have done very little for me. I'm not sure when, if ever, I will return to her books.