Lean Fall Stand
by Jon McGregor
A book review
Are authors better off writing from experience or relying solely on their imagination? It’s a thorny issue, and there’s a lot to say in favour of writers not being constrained by the parameters of what they’ve lived through. However, I’ve always felt that sensations and events are important to provide raw material for artists to work upon.
Jon McGregor’s latest novel, Lean Fall Stand takes its inspiration from two real-life experiences – a trip to Antarctica as part of a writers and artists programme run by the British Antarctic Survey and supported by the Arts Council, and a spell attending a self-help group for aphasia sufferers as part of the research for this novel. These two subjects may appear unrelated, but McGregor masterfully weaves them together into a work about communication, or the lack of it.
The title refers to the tripartite structure of the novel. Lean, the first part, is set in Antarctica. Newby geographers Luke and Thomas are out on the ice with their guide Robert “Doc” Wright when they are suddenly overcome by a storm. They are driven apart and desperately try to contact each other by radio. In the second part, Fall, the protagonist is Doc, now recovering from a stroke which has affected his speech. He tries to express his memories of the Antarctic but finds it close to impossible to do so. In the third part, Stand, Doc remains one of the main characters, but the narrative takes a wider angle as it describes therapy sessions for aphasia sufferers which Doc attends.
In an interview for The Guardian, McGregor admits that in Lean, Fall, Stand, he knowingly upends the readers’ expectations by creating a sort of genre-crossing hybrid. The first part of the book skirts thriller territory, with its staccato delivery and Boys-Own-style action. But, as McGregor declares somewhat condescendingly in the interview, he is no Lee Child and has no intention to be. This is evident in the second and third parts of the book, where there is a noticeable gear-change.
Perhaps McGregor
succeeded too well in his endeavour to create the anti-thriller. The scenes set in Antarctica are nail-biting
and gripping; the second part less so, but it still holds the reader’s
attention with its innovative ways of portraying the challenges faced by an
aphasia sufferer (and his carers). The
third part, however, I found terribly boring.
Or rather, let me rephrase that.
It is interesting enough, but only if read as the equivalent of a “true
story” magazine article on aphasia patients – one of those articles with the
disclaimer at the bottom that “names have been changed for privacy”. There’s no denying the sense of authenticity
throughout the novel, and in the right mood it is probably a moving read. In my
case, I couldn’t wait to move on to my next book.
No comments:
Post a Comment