Cussedness
The natural cussedness of things in general.
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Hotel World by Ali Smith
Whoever chose the cover for Hotel World wants shooting. It looks like something in which the shoe descriptions will have had more attention from the author than the characterisation or plot. If it wasn’t for the fact that I really enjoyed The Accidental, I’d never have gone near it. Hotel World actually deals with death and grief and a host of other non-chintzy themes; those expecting the sort of fluff that would be in keeping with the artwork are in for a bit of a shock, as you can tell from the Amazon reviews. I suppose marketing can chalk up a few extra sales, but they’re hardly going to get repeat custom that way.
It’s a shame, because this is easily one of the best books I’ve picked up in a long time. In many ways it’s more like an extended poem than a novel, formally dazzling and technically brilliant, but the narratives unfold so smoothly that you’re never overwhelmed. There are five main characters, all convincingly realised and differentiated, linked together by events in the hotel of the title, and each has a section of her own; this device creates a symmetrical structure quite separate from the story itself. Writing a book like this can’t be easy, but Smith has no problems tying everything up and you never get lost. She makes it look effortless.
Whilst the story isn’t cheerful, and the characters are by no means idealised, this isn’t a depressing book. It has an underlying optimism rooted in the genuine love Smith seems to have for her creations, even when they do something unsympathetic. She cares about what happens to them, and their actions and reactions are true and credible because of this. The story is concerned with moving from its rather dark opening to a conclusion in which nothing concrete is resolved, but where opportunities for moving on are discovered, and the future is brighter despite the fact that barely anything material has changed. Smith doesn’t pull any obvious omniscient authorial tricks either, preferring instead to let her story tell itself, allowing the reader to become immersed in the the world she describes for us.
I thoroughly enjoyed this novel, and I shall definitely be tracking down the rest of Ali Smith’s work as soon as I get through the next few books on my pile (one of which is Bleak House, so it might take a little longer than might otherwise be expected).