Showing posts with label humour and satire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humour and satire. Show all posts

Friday, 15 February 2019

Mirth in Venice: Antal Szerb's "Oliver VII"





"Oliver VII" by Antal Szerb

A book review


Having encountered Antal Szerb through his best-known work Journey by Moonlight and its companion piece, the non-fiction travelogue The Third Tower: Journeys in Italy, I was initially surprised at the high spirits of this novel, especially since it was written whilst World War II was raging, changing Europe's landscape forever. True, there were humorous passages, as well as an underlying gentle irony, in "Journey by Moonlight", but Oliver VII is an all-out comic novel, with a convoluted plot worthy of opera buffa.

The eponymous protagonist is the monarch of the fictional European realm of Alturia, in an unspecified period "before the War". Rather than conclude a dubious treaty with a neighbouring state (which includes a royal marriage into the bargain), Oliver sets up a coup against himself and escapes from the country. Against the backdrop of a "stagey" Venice, described as a theatre set "where the whole scene sometimes seems to wobble", Oliver joins a group of seasoned con -men and, after several twists and turns, ends up impersonating himself. The novel is peopled by farcical characters, mistaken identities, hilarious set-pieces and even a walk-on part for a panto dame. At times, I felt that the book was midway between the old-world comedy of 
P.G. Wodehouse and the more biting satire of Evelyn Waugh. Perhaps it is no coincidence that the dialogue in Len Rix's brilliant translation contains a number of Bertie Wooster-ish exclamations, and that it is the appearance of a journalist on the scene (think Scoop) which propels the plot to its upbeat denouement.
 
As the novel progresses, one starts to realise that it is closer to the darker "Journey by Moonlight" than appears at first glance. Surely it's no coincidence that, like Mihaly in the earlier novel, Oliver escapes to the back streets of La Serenissima in a bid to discover "real life". The parallels between the two books (and their autobiographical aspects) are explained in greater detail in the translator's afterword. The work acquires greater poignancy when one discovers discover that this work was the last written by Szerb before, as a Catholic with Jewish ancestry, he was murdered in a labour camp.

This book is another winner from the "Pushkin Collection" series.

Sunday, 3 February 2019

Family Comedy : "The Altruists" by Andrew Ridker







Charity begins at home... A review of Andrew Ridker's "The Altruists"


I do not envy comic novelists.  Besides the challenges facing any novel writer, they have to elicit a smile, chuckle or smirk from their readers at regular intervals.  Then, if and when they get it right, they face the risk of seeing their work dismissed as ‘(s)light’ fare.  A case in point, in my opinion, was Andrew Sean Greer’s Less, which I greatly enjoyed and which I think really did deserve the Pulitzer, but which was slated in some quarters, including by friends and reviewers whose opinion I greatly respect.

It is therefore great news that a fresh talent has now joined the ranks of comic novelists.  Andrew Ridker was born in 1991, and his debut novel The Altruists is published later this year. Admittedly, on the cynicism/bleakness scale, this novel is closer to Richard Ford than to Andrew Sean Greer, which might make it more palatable to the literati.   Indeed, it’s already attracting glowing advance reviews.  As for me, I admired most of it, although I find it harder to actually like it.

The protagonists of The Altruists are the Alters, a Jewish middle-class family  from St Louis.  The mother, Francine, haunts the novel, despite being dead for most of it. Indeed, it is her inheritance which serves as the catalyst of the plot.  Incensed at the fact that her sixty-something professor husband Arthur has taken up a much younger lover whilst she is dying of cancer, Francine bequeaths a secret fortune to her two children, Ethan and Maggie.  Faced with the prospect of losing his girlfriend and also his heavily mortgaged house, Arthur invites his children back to St Louis for a reconciliatory weekend, hoping to convince them to bail him out.  But Ethan and Maggie have their own problems.  Ethan (whose homosexuality Arthur has never quite accepted) is out of a job, and is now living off his mother’s money in Brooklyn, whilst trying to sort out his messy love life.  On her part, Maggie is a hard-headed would-be altruist, whose obsession with causes and ideals often leads her to actually overlook the needs of the people who surround her. Although Arthur’s plans seem to be failing miserably (but quite entertainingly for us readers), they do lead the Alters to come to term with their history and to understand that they are possible more like each other than they like to think.


To be honest, I found it hard to symphatize with any of the characters, who seemed to have few, if any, redeeming features.  There are likeable rogues, but Arthur is certainly not one of them.  And his children are, frankly, chips off the old block.  This ultimately detracted from my enjoyment of the novel.  At the same time, however, there is much that is brilliant about The Altruists – it is an undeniably insightful work, it has some crisply humourous dialogue, and memorable set pieces.  I particularly enjoyed the final showdown between the Alters and Arthur’s young lover, and the Zimbabwe episode feels like something out of Evelyn Waugh.     

Hardcover320 pages
Expected publication: March 7th 2019 by Jonathan Cape 

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