Oystercatchers by Susan Fletcher

Susan Fletcher’s Oystercatchers takes the reader to a more uncomfortable place than its award-winning predecessor Eve Green ever does. It would be easy to call it a ‘dark’ book, but that adjective doesn’t convey anything useful in itself. The discomfort experienced by the reader is rooted not in obscurity or the deliberate withholding of information, but rather in the disclosure of truth; the sadness in the story comes from the contrast between darkness and light. Ultimately, it is a bleak exposure, a driving away of shadows, that gives this story its drive, as the narrator slowly reveals her secrets at the hospital bedside of her unhearing, comatose sister. At the end we are left in possession of all the facts, but with no real answers.

The language has a distinctive style, subtly different from that of Fletcher’s first novel but of a piece with it, and if the writing is less obviously polished in comparison, it feels more assured, and is more likeable. There are roughnesses and tiny inconsistencies which make the world in Oystercatchers vivid and realistic, and breathe life into the character of the narrator. For a novel like this to succeed the author must understand, inhabit, even, her main character completely, and veracity is critical. Happily, Moira Stone is a real and believable creation. She is very human, and flawed, but it is from her imperfections that the entire narrative flows.

She is so flawed, in fact, and makes mistakes with such unfortunate repercussions that it’s easy to feel like we’re not really supposed to like her, but despite this, we do. She is honest in telling her story to her unconscious sister, which is really a way of telling her story to herself. This leads to an interesting knot at the heart of the book: the only person who can pass judgement on Moira is Moira herself. And whilst she can justify all her actions, detail the ratiocinations that lead her to make her mistakes, provide so much evidence in mitigation, she is never lenient and she shows herself no pity. The reader cannot help feeling sympathy for one who is so truthful about their own failings.

If I have any criticisms, they are of minor points. The narrative occasionally digresses into an oblique discussion of the two cultures debate, Art vs. Science, a pretty broken-winded old hobbyhorse, and her ugly sister Faith vs. Reason rears her head a few times too. I found these little sub-themes distracting, but they never take over the story or remain central for long. Some of the secondary characters are bare sketches of people, but this too is hardly a serious fault, particularly when the main character is so well realised. There are also a couple of sentences that look a bit like someone failed to proofread the MS properly, but I’m sure they’ll be picked up for the paperback.

Nitpicking aside, Fletcher has definitively proved that she has more than one decent book in her. The audience that bought Eve Green won’t be disappointed, and if they find it a slightly more testing experience this time round they should feel rewarded in corresponding measure. It is equally a more difficult and a better novel.

[For the purposes of this little criticism I pretended that I don't actually know Sue, and that this novel is like a book by any other author. Otherwise I would just have been going on about how ace she is and that would have been boring. More boring, I mean.]

1 comment 2007-02-01 21:24 Categories: Books, Reviews