A Room with a View

Over the past few days I escaped lockdown in Sydney and was transported to Florence, Italy. I wandered the cobblestone streets, explored magnificent art, ate delicious meals and was welcomed by a group of fascinating people who made me laugh, cry and feel like part of their family. A truly joyous trip courtesy of Sarah Winman's Still Life (2021).

In August 1944 Ulysses Temper is a young British soldier driving his Captain through the Tuscan Hills surveying the impact of the war. The Allies had advanced and were on the verge of reclaiming Florence. On the roadside, Ulysses meets Evelyn Skinner, a British woman three decades his senior. Evelyn is an art historian there to survey the damage to cultural artefacts. The trio spend the afternoon together in the ruins of a villa drinking wine, eating cheese, and talking about art and beauty. Ulysses and Evelyn feel an immediate connection, an instant familiarity. At the end of the day, they go their seperate ways, not knowing whether they will ever see each other again.

Ulysses returns to London at the end of the war to work at the local pub. Here we meet his wife Peg, young Alys, publican Col, piano man Pete, nature-loving Cressy, a quick-witted parrot named Claude, and a cast of other memorable characters. All unique, flawed and realistic. This ragtag group become family and over the years support each other in genuinely touching ways. 

The story that follows takes place over the next four decades in London and Florence as the cities rebuild after war and social changes come about in the 1960s. The characters evolve and change with the times, but remain ever connected. The memory of their first encounter lingers, with Ulysses and Evelyn endeavouring to find one another again.

There are obvious parallels here with E.M. Forster's classic A Room With A View (1908). Indeed Forster himself is a character in the novel, albeit briefly, when he meets Evelyn at a pensione overlooking the Arno. But Forster's influence looms large over this story and we can see in both Evelyn and poet Constance Everly, more than a touch of Miss Lavish.

There is something about Florence. The history, art, architecture and landscape welcomes you and seeps under your skin. I have such fond memories of my travels there in 2012 and long to return. As I read Still Life, I followed in the footsteps of the characters on a map of Florence and spent a lot time researching the artworks, churches and other things they discussed. 

When I finished this book I literally cried. It was such a beautiful novel and I was bereft leaving these wonderful characters after being welcomed into their world. I haven't had such a strong emotional feeling about a novel since I read Maggie O'Farrell's Hamnet. Like that novel, Still Life is one I will be gifting and recommending to friends and loved ones. 

The Ponte Vecchio over the Arno. (June 2012)

The Book of Regrets

Nora Seed has a lot of regrets. She regrets letting down her father when she decided not to continue her athletic career. She regrets becoming estranged from her brother and leaving the band they had formed together. She regrets breaking off her engagement, just days before the wedding. She regrets not travelling to Australia with her friend Izzy. 

The weight of these regrets are too much for Nora and she is genuinely unhappy with her life. When she loses her uninspiring job at a local music shop, and her beloved cat dies, she decides she has had enough and the world would be better off without her. Nora tries to kill herself, thus beginning her journey to the Midnight Library. 

The Library exists in the place between life and death. Here she meets the librarian who hands her a personalised book of regrets. Nora can chose any regret and go back to see what life would be like should she have made a different choice. Would she have been happier in any of these lives? Is there a life worth living for?

Matt Haig's The Midnight Library (2020) ponders 'what-could-have-been' like so many books and films before. Nora has many sliding doors moments where the choice she has made has led her on a certain path, thereby letting the many alternative paths fall by the wayside. Some of Nora's alternative life choices lead to fame and fortune, but most are pretty ordinary. 

For the most part, I enjoyed The Midnight Library but I didn't love it. The concept of the library was great and I liked the opportunity to explore the road less travelled. While exploring depressing topics like suicide and addiction, the book is ultimately uplifting with the hopeful message of finding happiness in the little things. However, after several journeys to Nora's alternative lives, it became quite tedious and predictable. Nora was a frustrating character, continually not knowing what she wants and always thinking the grass is greener elsewhere. I could not connect with her and didn't really care what path she chose, I just wanted her to pick something to stop the cycle of returning to the library.

Having finished the book I have read reviews online and so many people loved this novel in a way that I did not. While reading the novel, I also listened to the audiobook narrated by Carey Mulligan. Mulligan did a great job of personifying Nora and I think without her compelling narration I may have given up on the book without regret. 

I, Robot

When the Booker Prize longlist was announced last week, only a handful of titles sparked my interest. I grabbed Kazuo Ishiguro's Klara and the Sun (2021) off my teetering stack of books to be read and absorbed this beautifully written novel over the past few evenings. 

The story is told by Artificial Friend (AF) Klara, a highly perceptive, lifelike robot. When we first meet Klara she is in a shop with other AFs. The manager moves stock around the store, giving Klara a turn in the window display where she can observe the passers-by and soak up the rays of the sun. One day Klara is purchased by a woman as a companion for her 14 year old daughter Josie. The girl is critically ill and Klara provides Josie with much needed friendship, while Josie provides Klara with the opportunity to see the outside world. As Josie's illness worsens, Klara becomes convinced that the sun will provide the nutrients needed to counter her condition. 

Klara is a fascinating narrator. She is naive but with a great capacity to observe and learn, discovering the ever-changing moods of a teenager. She takes her cues from those around her, knowing when to give privacy and when to interact. Klara has great faith and spreads her hope for Josie's wellbeing to those around her.

The world in which these characters inhabit is a version of our own, perhaps in the near-future. Ishiguro hints at technological advancements that have allowed robots to displace workers, genetic engineering that sees some children 'lifted' and others left behind, environmental degradation, and the disposable culture in which we replace things as soon as a newer model comes along. He never explicitly describes the world (as the story is told through Klara's eyes) but gives the reader enough nudges to imagine what is happening. 

This is a slender novel, but there are many complex themes running through it posing significant ethical dilemmas for readers to ponder. We meet interesting characters along the way - Josie's unlifted friend Rick, his mother, Josie's absent father, and the strange Mr Capaldi. 

To detail more of the story would give too much away. Suffice it to say, I loved spending time with Klara and was heartbroken when the story ended. I will be thinking about Klara for a long time.