On his eightieth birthday, English author Julian Barnes released his final book Departure(s) (2026). Currently being treated for a rare blood cancer, Barnes had one last book to write and has crafted a curious hybrid work of fiction and memoir about aging and the problems of memory.
Departure(s) begins with an exploration of memory - the Proustian involuntary autographical memory of madelines dunked in tea which transport the author back to an earlier time, the importance of forgetting unwanted memories, and the wonder of the human mind. Barnes plays with his reader, inserting himself (or a fictional version of himself) in the tale, and promising that this will be an unreliable story filled with gaps.
The first part of his story takes place at Magdelen College Oxford in the 1960s, where Julian is reading modern languages. Here he meets Stephen, a fellow student, and introduces him to Jean, a girl from Julian's Russian class. Stephen and Jean engage in a brief relationship while students, but then go their seperate ways. Forty years later, when Julian, Jean and Stephen are in their sixties, they are reunited, with Barnes again enabling the couple's meet-cute. This time they wed and, during their marriage, Julian is their confidant and sounding-board.
Amidst this tale of love, is one of aging and death. Barnes' diaries are used to explore his diagnosis and treatment. His body is failing and he grasps on to recollections of his past. He is preparing to depart but still has some wisdom to convey.
I have always liked Barnes as a writer. His wonderful novel The Sense of an Ending (2011) won the Booker Prize and prior to my blogging days, I enjoyed his A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters (1989) and Flaubert's Parrot (1984). I had the good fortune of hearing him speak and meeting him at the 2016 Sydney Writers' Festival where he signed a copy of The Sense of an Ending for me.
While the story was different, Departure(s) reminded me of Richard Flanagan's genre-defying Question 7 (2023) which blended autofiction, memoir, history and philosophy. As I read Departure(s) I initially wondered what parts were fiction and which were memoir, and then I realised it doesn't matter. This is Barnes' departure, leaving behind his brilliant career on his own terms, and giving his readers a gift with his contemplative musings.