Tuesday, February 04, 2014

'The Bright Side of my Condition' by Charlotte Randall - review by Maggie Rainey-Smith


'The Bright Side of my Condition'
by Charlotte Randall
Published by Penguin Group (NZ)
RRP $30.00

Charlotte Randall is one of my favourite New Zealand authors, and so I was delighted to be sent her latest novel to read and review.   She doesn't disappoint.   I had just read a quite different novel to review which was entirely plot drive, although very well written and it set me to thinking about the writing of Randall, whose work is very much driven by characters.    Her work is characterised by intelligence and imagination.  She makes the reader work a little for results, and although this novel  is exceedingly readable and easy to digest, it is not fast-food.  You get to savour the delicious flavours when you read Randall and to marvel at her creativity.
                I listened to the author speaking with Lynn Freeman about the novel, just before I began to write this review and at the moment I had just finished reading the novel.   It's funny how we imagine the author to somehow be something like the characters we like - for how else can the narrator in 'The Bright Side of my Condition' be so intelligently, interestingly, philosophical.   And yet I heard the author declare she would most definitely not behave in the way her narrator does - she practically admitted on air, she would 'murder' someone out of absolute frustration if abandoned in similar circumstances.  She also sounded so very matter of fact, and this novel is full of wondrous imaginative meanderings and philosophies on nature and life.  
                Randall also admitted that she doesn't really like historical novels or doing historical research. How fascinating, for this novel is based on the true story of four escaped convicts from Norfolk Island who end up spending almost a decade on one of the Snares Islands in the 19th century.  No, I'd never before heard of the Snares, and nor had I heard of these four convicts.   But what a lively tale.   And the author told Lynn Freeman it all began when she wanted to write a novel from the point of view of someone falling to their death.  Splendid - she does, and we even get to fall with him.
                I read and reviewed 'Hokitika Town' and loved it for the audacity of the author to create her own 'patois' and sustain it throughout, so that we lived the Hokitika gold rush through the eyes of Halfie, the Coin Boy.   And too, prior to that, 'The Curative' has always been one of my No.1 Book Group's, favourite and most 'remembered' reads.   This new novel reminded me of 'The Curative' but this latest work is much funnier while still being intelligently thought provoking.   Again, you have men, stranded with each other, this time partly through choice, and their characters and flaws explored in detail. The characters have nicknames such as Gargantua, Toper, Slangam and the narrator is Bloodworth, but Gargantua is also called Fatty or Flonker. Each as their own particular back-story and personal traits that they bring to the narrative.   Toper is a superstitious Irishman and the cook. Slangam is humourless and assumes ascendancy over the group, driving them to work to maintain a sense of purpose. Gargantua has travelled abroad as far as Persia and dealt in arty-facts. He can recite poetry and 'know everything about all writing that were every writ, all stories and poems that were ever told'.
                There's an interesting moment early on in their isolation when Bloodworth steals some potatoes to eat and they have to decide on a suitable punishment.  It illuminates their characters and also the struggle for a sense of morality when really there are no rules except the rules they make for themselves.
                Bloodworth, the narrator is the observer for obvious reasons and he separates himself from the other three by exploring the island - the others are less imaginative and can't understand why he needs to go off on his own into the unknown. He sits for hours and watches the penguins and the albatrosses.   Out of these contemplative moments come lovely observations about the nature of life and good and evil, morality and survival. Eventually, the others become suspicious of his forays across to the other side of the island and begin following him, and watching him.  It's a fascinating look at four men in isolation, truly imagined, because it appears there are no records or details of these four convicts other than that they were eventually found by the fabulously named (and this is true evidently), Captain Coffin.   Bloodworth is by far the most important voice as narrator and his discovery of self in isolation is terrific (even if the others think he has gone mad).

                Another great read, from Charlotte Randall, surely one of our most imaginative and intelligent New Zealand writers.


About the reviewer:
Maggie Rainey-Smith is a Wellington writer and regular reviewer on Beattie's Book Blog. She is also Chair of the Wellington branch of the NZ Society of Authors.  

1 comment:

Qtnqtee said...

Absolutely loved this rip roaring tale. Beautifully crafted and so evocatively written - you can almost smell the salt air, hear the seagulls, the wind howling, the heaving ocean crashing against the rocks, the strands of bull kelp matted and broiling. The narrator Bloodworth is hugely personable, insightful, intelligent and gentle. Over time he becomes at one with the physical, and develops an understanding of his place in it. His musings into the natural world and life in general are poignant. You get a sense he's a decent man, and his longing to get away into the wilderness, away from human company and the complexity of relationships struck a deep resonance with me. Whilst the other men bicker and drink, it's only Bloodworth who can see the folly, and he ends up ostracized and living alone in a cave apart from the other men. But here, he finds he is truly happy. There's a visceral compelling honesty about the characters in the book. This book is superb reading, and I thoroughly enjoyed the RNZ production of it, expertly read by the appropriately gravelly voiced Brian Sergent, who conveyed all the gruffness and language of the time so brilliantly, it made for compelling listening. Thank you Charlotte Randall, and also to RNZ, whose production of it would not have otherwise led me to read the book. Kind regards, Duncan Hollebon