Although this has a story in the heart of it, an account of the relationship of two friends which is, so far as I can judge, true except for the changing of names, this is a memoir, rather than a novel, although he describes it as fiction. Autofiction? But not really. In five parts, Barnes considers getting old and dying in a sort of meandering, digressive exploratory disquisition. He promises this will be his last book. Selected quotes:
- “My memory - that place where degradation and embellishment overlap.” (part 1)
- “Mostly I write fiction, which requires the slow composting of life before it becomes usable material.” (part 2)
- “Stephen was - is - was - tall and gangling. His trousers often seemed too short for him, flesh showing above his socks, and when he threw his arms about he appeared to be heading off in different directions at the same time.” (part 2)
- “Marriages are like kitchens. ... The first time you put a kitchen in, there's always something wrong with it. Sink in the wrong place, freezer next to the oven. Not enough drawers, too many shelves, and so on. ... Then the second time you rectify the mistakes of the first one, and get what you wanted.” (part 4)
- “An English suburban teenager ... My flesh didn't seem at all sad to me (or at least, only sad from under- rather than over-consumption).” (part 5)
- “When, in the plenitude of her existence, my wife was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor and was dead thirty-seven days later, I raged against the dying or her light, but I didn't imagine that some cunningly concealed fairness or justice came into the matter.” (part 5)
- “As you get older, you get hardened in your least acceptable characteristics.” (part 5)
- “You’re allowed to be old, but you’re not allowed to behave like an old person.” (part 5)
This review was written by
the author of Bally and Bro, Motherdarling
and The Kids of God- England, England: a comic novel
- The sense of an ending: a novel
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