I always thought that a pilgrimage was a religious journey, but Harold Fry's walk to save Queenie Hennessy is something quite different. Call me a sentimental old fool, but there is so much to enjoy in Rachel Joyce's debut novel. There are times when I thought the lump in my throat would actually produce a tear. In the early chapters I thought this is a nice easy read, a quite unchallenging story of a fellow retiree walking, sort of accidentally, from Kingsbridge in Dorset to Berwick on the border with Scotland. But as Harold is quite unprepared for his journey by foot, it becomes a trial of the human spirit.
As he walks, he thinks about his life with Maureen, almost an estranged wife for the last twenty years. Left at home, Maureen pours over the same heartbreaking existence. As Harold's walk progresses, so the story of their lives becomes clearer. These memories are interludes in the real time progress of Harold's journey. Not only are we surprised and elated by most (but not all) of the people he meets, but his unpreparedness gives way to some highly emotional scenes along the way.
The writing is straightforward, no literary tricks are needed here. That is probably why the book has missed some prize shortlists, and is at the same time so popular. However, there are dark times as well as good. The latter can propel you to heights that few books can do. And this is why it gets five stars from me. There is one big secret that is revealed late on that I guessed very early. But even this is not all that it seemed.
Harold walks in his "yachting" shoes. I actually own four pairs of varying age and perfection. I always thought they were "deck" shoes, but I find that "yachting" or "boat" shoes are equally accurate. Sorry about that. In the end, I guess the writing is pretty manipulative, but who doesn't like a bit of manipulation. Certainly not me.
I have to admit that I had had not heard of Elizabeth Bowen, but it turns out she was a highly respected novelist and short story writer. "The Last September" was published in 1929 and takes it theme from when the author herself was eighteen and living in her childhood home in Ireland in 1920.
The story of an English country house in the middle of Ireland at the start of "the troubles", is quite interesting. But the occupation of the British Army and the rise of the IRA only rumble in the background and hardly effect the lives or consciousness of the country house set. Danielstown is the home to Sir Richard and Lady Naylor and their orphan niece Lois, whose story this is. Also living there is Laurence, an unrelated nephew. There are many comings and goings, tennis parties, lunches, walks in the country, dances and visitors. So not much of a plot, but an undercurrent of how this can not go on for ever.
Lois is at a crossroads - "I must do something" as she has no future plans. Her romance with a young British officer seems a distraction more than anything. She is lacking in any real character, but then at eighteen with a sheltered upbringing, this is no real surprise. And that itself is a flaw in the book. The snobbish Lady Naylor could have been the one really interesting character, but she only comes into her own near the end.
What distinguishes this novel from any I have ever read is the prose. Never have I had to read the same passage twice so often. It seems to me that Elizabeth Bowen was writing in an ultra modern way for the 1920's. Sometimes it actually comes off, but more often I gave up trying to understand what she was trying to say: "the house became a magnet to their dependence" - "an apprehensive interchange with her own reflection". There are whole paragraphs that are far more ambiguous than these two extracts.
So I found this a frustrating read. Sometimes boring, occasionally startlingly brilliant, but overall the language frequently had me wishing to have done with it. I will be very glad to get back to a modern novel.
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