the lady

Last night finished reading “On Beauty”, by the Z. Smith. I haven’t read any of her work before, but this I really enjoyed. And I can’t help it – years of training means talking about books is a must. No one up here has read it (though someone has the audiobook; borrowed it but the voices are terrible), so I need to vent here.

Firstly, it’s excellent. The narrative romps along, moving continuously (in contrast to something like The Line of Beauty, where it is the narration that is the focal point, slowly un-spinning). There’s a pace, there are many events; there is no musing for the sake of it. You get the sense of a novel mapped out in terms of plot, and then sketched in (supported by admission that it’s a homage to Forster). And it’s enjoyable and works – and it really hurtles towards its end. It’s fun for the reader; it’s a bit of a ride.

And I liked her lack of sentimentality: regarding Howard and Kiki, for instance. Or Howard and his father, as in Howard’s unexpected and unreflected-upon trip to his father’s place. It happens all of a sudden, is meaningful and upsetting – and yet is not an excuse for a bit of a Princess Di moment (wailing, reminiscence). There are only two (I think) other mentions to the father; their relationship is what it is and is left at that. And is more powerful, and believable, because of that.

There is a beautiful attention to detail – Levi tying his shoes at the beginning, and getting his father to tie them at the end. The translucent-handled knives. The appearance of the colour yellow in the opening scene, and its reflection at the close of the novel – the colour that is the “intimation of what is to come”.

And secondly, there are a few quibbles. At times, the novel’s attention is a little uneven – why is so much space given to Levi in comparison to Jerome? Jerome’s story was also interesting, and perhaps a little less tokenistic. Or perhaps just as much.

And a caution – there’s also the shadow of Malcolm Bradley’s The History Man: similar plot but Bradley’s is nastier. As well as a retelling of Forster, this is a re-imagining of Bradley, an attempt to explain Bradley.

Also, the academic arguments are really out of date – again look at Bradley, who was writing in the 70s. Then the lets-laugh-at-post structuralism was current and had a force; now it’s lame and unbelievable. I have not yet met an academic who would stand up and make such unreflexive, thoughtless arguments. People might write such things, and these papers might get published, but almost 30 years have passed since this was an innovative intellectual approach that was taken seriously.

Read it. It’s good.