Reading while dead

Reading while dead

Tuesday 21 February 2017

Book of the Day: The Loney - Hurley

I had wanted to read this book a lot, because it deals with issues like belief and so on (a popular topic currently) and was given a copy for my birthday.   It is book of the day, because I am enjoying "bedrest " just now, so I am getting through a fair few contemporary books.  I expect my rate will be slowed when I get onto C. Bronte's Shirley - our current Book Group read.

I enjoyed The Loney enormously, I liked the description of the countryside, could see it etc, and really enjoyed the characters and the evocation of different styles of Catholicism in the 70s.  What I found a little odd was the way it was described as "horror".   It is a darkish novel, and it contains some unexplained, supernatural elements, but horror?  I didn't find it scary particularly, I was intrigued as to what would happen.  We know from the beginning that the main character, the presumably autistic, mute Hanny, is cured somehow, but it is never made clear how or why.  

The book employs two particular horror genre memes - firstly the unfriendly natives, and secondly, the ominous objects (two separate ones) and a tense scene in which the unfriendly natives enter the rented house.   So far so Wicker Man/Straw Dogs etc.  But then there are three inexplicable people who are also apparently strangers - who are intertwined into the story. The narrator has no religious faith and doesn't seem fazed by anything, because he's a boy and it's all an adventure, so he doesn't have any sense of horror. Any horror must be in the reader's own mind, expectations based on readings of previous horror stories.   As I don't read this genre (except in classic forms, such as Stoker and M R James) I probably don't get so readily triggered by these cues.

The characters are very good, but because they are all described from the boy's point of view we get their actions and conversations, and the only way we get any sense of their inner lives is when he eavesdrops.  As a result, this makes them feel as though they are operating the plot - and it occurs to me that this a problem for all genre writers (to some extent I have found this) because the plotting is very important it is essential to get it properly functioning. However, they are realistic characters, and perform well in an ensemble.

Whose story this is is another question.   The narrator does go through a great change, but that happens after the main events of the book have occurred, and it cannot be quite understood.  Indeed, what happens at the end is remarkably difficult to understand, and the joy of the paranormal is that is doesn't require a rational explanation, simply a suspension of disbelief.   However, the excellence of the book, in creating a credible ensemble of characters (despite certain clunkiness alluded to above) means that it is harder to suspend disbelief when the final events occur.  And they are not explained.   Well of course, only a very simplistic literal person like me would expect to understand the ending!  For heavens sake, this is where the reader has to do the work, provide the narrative, probe their worst fears etc.

If the story is not the narrator's then it is his brother's, but we do not see his mind, only his brother's view of him, indeed, this is why the characters are so "operational" because we are only see them from the narrator's 15 or 16 year old point of view, and he is only interested in certain things about them, we do not know the rest.  His mother is astonishingly 2D though, but then again, I doubt whether either of my sons at that age would have formed anything like a nuanced view of their mother.  She is transformed at the end, in his eyes, but oh, I don't know.  She is transformed from 2D priopriety and piety to 2D happiness, so it's not something heartfelt.

There is a sort of pathos in the description of the "shrine" and the damage to the church, which does add to a doomy sense.  On some level you may expect this anti-Christian (or simply anti-Catholic) activity to be diabolical, but it doesn't go that far.  It fails to be melodramatic, and that's a good controlled thing, but I still want to know: WTF happened?  How TF did he get cured?   In this unresolved mystery I am reminded of similar annoyance with Waters' The Little Stranger and Jessie Burton's The Miniaturist.   I love a supernatural element in a book - but it needs to be explained, rather than sketchily hinted at, or shown and withdrawn.   And I could start on the apples.... but that's another thing.




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