Irish master storyteller William Trevor's novel is the best in what isa fine shortlist for this year's Man Booker Prize, writes Eileen Battersby, Literary Correspondent.
The Irish veteran master storyteller William Trevor stands out as strong favourite in a shortlist destined to be remembered as one of the better, if also least controversial, selections yet assembled by a Booker Prize panel.
Such is the quality of his beautiful new novel, The Story of Lucy Gault, that Trevor, now 72 and shortlisted for the fourth time, is capable of sustaining the powerful Booker challenge of another natural story-teller - the Canadian-based, Indian novelist Rohinton Mistry, who was also shortlisted yesterday with his third novel, Family Matters.
Trevor, however, not only represents Irish fiction at its finest, he is a world-class writer, a subtle understated artist, and the best of what is undeniably a shortlist of good novelists.
Two of this year's most obvious Booker omissions are John McGahern's shrewd pastoral, That They May Face the Rising Sun - which, having been well reviewed and widely praised, surprisingly failed to even make the 20-book long list - and John Banville's darkly elegant Shroud, part confession, part love story and a characteristically sophisticated master class in linguistic virtuosity, which proved a surprise faller yesterday. Trevor, however, is skilled at stepping in and out of both the Irish and British psyche, and possesses unusual and wide appeal.
His body of work spanning more than 40 years, remains consistent, surprising, unsentimental, quietly humane and, as is his Booker contender, evocative Irish social history.
The Story of Lucy Gault, his 13th novel, is at once simple and sinister. A young girl, whose parents are caught up in the upheavals of 1921 and are forced to abandon Ireland, refuses to leave her adored family home. Her protest is traditional, she runs away. But a bizarre twist innocently introduced by a friendly stray dog creates a tragic misunderstanding. Her parents begin a long odyssey through Europe, an escape which becomes a penance of sorts, while the child also believes she must atone for her actions.
The years pass, with Trevor throughout deftly describing the way a life is changed by a simple happening. Alongside Lucy's personal history, another story, that of a changing Ireland and with it, the passing of a specific culture, emerges. Family remains one of fiction's major themes as Mistry brilliantly demonstrates in Family Matters. On publication last April I felt this was a potential Booker winner - it still is. A former runner-up with each of his previous novels, Such a Long Journey (1991) and A Fine Balance (1996), Mistry is among the best of the very strong group of Indian writers inspired by the great R.K.Narayan. Mistry's prose is formal, almost old-fashioned, his approach is traditional, with echoes of Tolstoy, his characters invariably unforgettable and the dialogue often resounds with the comic exasperation which is a hallmark of Indian fiction.
Set in Bombay, the story centres on the physical decline of Nariman Vakeel. He is a gentle and remote man haunted by his mistakes and the moral cowardice that led to a tragedy. Nowadays, he is at the mercy of his middle-aged stepchildren, particularly the scheming Coomy who intends never to forgive him for her mother's suffering.
Life with Coomy and her brother Jal becomes increasingly difficult for Nariman when he breaks his ankle. Coomy cleverly engineers the old man's move from the spacious apartment he shares with his stepchildren to a much smaller one, that of his natural daughter Roxana. She tends him lovingly, but not without seeing her own family falter under the financial pressure. It is a big, large-hearted, character-driven narrative full of bickering and pain; shocking events and humanity and much humour. A worthy and deserving winner in any year, Family Matters presents Trevor's major threat.
Spanish-born and Canadian-based Yann Martel's Life of Pi is a gorgeously inventive and original novel, an adventure and an allegory. It is to the collective credit of the judges that this quiet novel, published in the UK by Canongate of Edinburgh, made the final six.
Young Pi is the son of a zoo owner. When the family decides to exchange India for a new life in Canada, the zoo must be sold and with it, the animals. Some of them, however, travel by ship in the care of the family. A disaster at sea changes everything. Alone of his family, Pi, at 16, survives and at first shares his life-boat with an odd collection of animals. Soon, only one remains, a Royal Bengal tiger named Richard Parker. The two engage in an incredible battle of wills. Pi is a likeable and compelling narrator with quite a story to tell and a quasi-philosophical aftermath worth pondering. Everyone should read this novel.
Carol Shields, previously shortlisted for The Stone Diaries that went on to win the Pulitzer Prize, has always been a perceptive observer. As expected, her latest novel Unless was selected yesterday. It is a very good book, ordinary and profound, sad and often funny and I believe, her best. Reta Winters, the articulate and convincing narrator, is a writer with an established reputation as a translator and editor, who is now becoming well-known as a light fiction novelist.
All should be well with her life, except her beautiful eldest daughter has dropped out of college, left her boyfriend and taken to sitting silently on a street corner with a placard bearing the word "Goodness" about her neck. As a study of loss, Unless operates on many levels; it is also a wonderful portrait of one character, Reta, confronted with things she cannot understand. Certainly one of the year's best novels, if not likely to pressure Trevor and Mistry.
Much the same could be said for Australian Tim Winton's hugely likeable Dirt Music, in which a not-quite-as-young-as-she-was heroine Georgie Jutland ends up isolated and confused in the company of equally isolated and confused characters. Trapped in one messy relationship with a no-hoper she does not love, Georgie moves on to an even worse set-up, with the local weirdo. Too long for what it has to say, Dirt Music is appealingly real-life and never pretentious. The fact it has helped keep novels such as Zadie Smith's irrelevant but over-hyped The Autograph Man, Jon McGregor's pretentiously trendy If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things, and William Boyd's tried and tested Any Human Heart off the short list more than justifies its nomination. Winton is a good writer, interested in character and always readable. But this time and in this Booker company, this casual, dreamy romantic novel suggests he is out of his class.
McGahern and Banville both deserved shortlisting, as did Anita Brookner and Janice Galloway.
Booker panels are often drawn to a big historical novel and it seemed Philip Hensher's richly vivid yarn The Mulberry Empire would be it. But Sarah Waters is included, with Fingersmith (to be reviewed next week), a long and at times over-cooked confection about life among the criminal classes in 19th-century London. The narrator is Sue Trinder, a variation of Moll Flanders, and a girl with a colourful personal story to tell. Energetic enough fare and no one could accuse Waters, this year's youngest contender, of pastiche.
Apparently determined to stand by conventional, modern English as spoken by the rest of us, Waters is a fluent storyteller. Still, two questions must be asked. First, why did she write an historical novel and ignore period linguistic conventions to such an extent? And second, although it is a competent, confident performance, why was it shortlisted?
Gripes aside, Trevor and Mistry should decide this, and look to Martel as a gifted dark horse.
The winner of the Man Booker Prize 2002 will be announced on October 22nd.
