Yorkshire Tales
A Review of Elmet by Fiona Mozley
Elmet was a surprise inclusion on the
shortlist of the 2017 Man Booker Prize.
Or perhaps, with hindsight, its success should not have been surprising
at all. It is, in fact, a genuinely
original debut novel.
The story is narrated by teenager Daniel,
who lives in a rural area of Yorkshire with his slightly older sister Cathy and
John, the man they call Daddy. Daddy is
a burly giant who has a reputation as a prize fighter and survives at the
fringe of legality. His fighting skills are put to good (for that read
“dubious”) use by debt-collectors and by organisers of illicit bare-knuckle fights. John
and the children lead a somewhat nomadic life, especially after the death of
the children’s grandmother. They move to
the Yorkshire countryside, where Daddy builds a house in a copse on land
belonging to local landowner Price. This not only attracts the unwanted attention of
Price (to whom Daddy seems to by mysteriously linked by past events) but also draws
the enmity of powerful businessmen who see John as a threat. Daddy resists, and finds himself thrust
forward as the champion of the downtrodden and exploited workers and tenants of
the area.
“Elmet” was the last Celtic kingdom of
England, which later became part of the West Riding of Yorkshire. The novel is headed by quote from Remains of
Elmet by Ted Hughes, which describes the area as a “badlands – a sanctuary for
refugees of the law”. The title
therefore juxtaposes the contemporary setting of the novel against a more
timeless, ancient landscape. There are
other elements which invite a ‘mythical’ reading of the work. The repeated reference to John as “Daddy”
suggest that he is more of an archetype than a flesh and blood character. The simple yet lyrical narrative voice suits
the teenage narrator, but is also redolent of the poetic language of legend. There are also clear references to tales of
Yorkshire outlaws, particularly “Robin Hood and his Merry Men”.
This contrast between the ancient and the new
is interesting but it also gives rise to some inconsistencies. John is often given a romantic aura – although a violent man, he seems to follow an ancient moral code, one which is, at heart, decent,
coupling a respect for nature and with attention to the needs of fellow man.
However, this supposed ‘code of honour’ sometimes sits uncomfortably
with the evidently leftist-liberal worldview of the novel, which is presented in no unsubtle terms. John’s children, for instance, very evidently represent
a contemporary view on gender - Cathy is a strong female warrior (literally) whilst
John is, it is strongly suggested, gay. On
the whole, it seems that John is fine with this which, frankly, does not seem altogether
credible. Indeed, in one of the initial chapters there is a passage that
implies that Daddy’s feelings towards Cathy verge on the abusive and which contradicts
the generally positive portrayal of this giant. And John’s moral code, despite his defiance of
the “bad guys” such as Price, is not too different from theirs, a "masculine" one in which disputes
are solved through violence.
In my view, the novel works
best if one reads it for its lyrical, narrative flow, and the sustained undercurrent
of tension and violence which explodes in the final pages. The ending is deliberately harrowing and graphic,
and I caught myself squeamishly looking away from the book. Yet, it fits the novel
and is by no means out of place.
Like Ghost
Wall by Sarah Moss, also set in North England, Elmet explores contemporary concerns
in a novel where the past seems to be continuously looking over our shoulders.
Paperback, 311 pages
Published August 10th 2017 by JM Originals
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