mondyboy 's review for:

Elmet by Fiona Mozley
4.0

The back cover blurb of Elmet by Fiona Mozley describes the novel as atmospheric and unsettling. I find it hard to disagree with that assessment. This is a book that, without fanfare or literary pyrotechnics, steadily ups the tension as the story unfolds. More than just offering a good example of rural noir, Mozley also has something to say about class, power and the ownership of land.

The events depicted involve Daniel, his sister Cathy, their father John and their back-to-basics lifestyle out in the boondocks of Yorkshire. John, who Daniel refers to as "Daddy" throughout the novel, not only built the family home with his bare hands but spends a good deal of the day foraging for food. Daniel and Cathy attend school initially, but when some bullying leads to violence, John has them both home-schooled by his friend (and possible lover) Vivienne. Through the course of the novel we learn that John is more than just a man who enjoys the independent life. He's also a well known pugilist whose fists have made wealthier, unprincipled men a great deal of money. After a period of peace, a period where John has been left to tend to his own, those same men, specifically a Mr Price, are now threatening to take away his land, his house, his family if he doesn't work for them.

Wikipedia tells me that Elmet was an independent Brittonic kingdom of the early Middle Ages located in Yorkshire. The Kingdom lasted for about a century until, in either 616 or 626, it was invaded and taken over by the Kingdom of Northumbria. Apparently it was notable for having held out longer than most against the expansion of Anglo-Saxon settlements in Britain. In the late 1970s poet Ted Hughes (the once husband of Sylvia Path) wrote some poetry about Elmet an excerpt of which forms the Epigraph of Fiona Mozley's novel. Title aside Elmet is referenced twice in the novel, and yet its hard to ignore the connection between Yorkshire's prehistory and John's struggle against Mr Price. He is Elmet (his son ever refers to him as the King) they are Northumbria and as history informs us John is playing a losing hand.

You don't need to have made the connection between John's struggle and the prehistory of Yorkshire to appreciate the key themes of the novel. This is a book that makes no bones about the fact that it's a commentary on the distinction between the disempowered and those who can command armies (or burly henchman). John is King of his copse because he is physically strong, because until Mr Price decides to pay a visit no-one in the town would be willing to face him down (not that anyone has reason to). John is aware though that physical prowess will only get you so far and so when Mr Price threatens to take his land, land that Mr Price claims to own, John begins to mobilise his own army of the disenfranchised and the poor. While success is not assured the suggestion is that labour, if it unifies, can threaten and even overthrow capital.

While class and power is a primary theme of the novel, the language of the book - in Daniel's voice - is steeped in the beauty and abundance of the natural world. I'm not someone who gets excited by description of trees and flowers and landscapes but Daniel and his family's passion for nature and their copse won me over. That includes the produce that comes from that land, the cooking of which is described in great, hunger inducing detail. By highlighting the quiet beauty of the area Mozley emphasises what Daniel, Cathy and John are set to lose. It also reinforces that division of labor and class. John works his own land, built his own house, rears and grows his own produce. Mr Price, on the other hand, hires people to work his land, to fight his wars, to make him money.

Elmer is a fine debut novel. As rural noir it elicits the right amount of menace and foreboding. As a commentary about class, power and the natural world it is mature and insightful, evoking the legends of Yorkshire, the remains of Elmet.

“Daddy was king. A foot taller than the tallest of these men, Daddy was gargantuan. Each of his arms was as thick as two of theirs. His fists were near the size of their heads. Each of them could have sat curled up inside his ribcage like a foetus in a mother’s womb. These men did not move Daddy, and when they began prowling in earnest, he knew how to respond.

The bailiffs started knocking on doors. At first they would concentrate on a few houses in a certain area. This made it easy for Daddy. Gary, our man from the potato sorting, had use of his uncle’s car and as soon as he got a call from any of the tenants he would drive Daddy over as quickly as he could. Daddy would get out and make his hulking presence known. The bailiffs would leg it.”