A review by bennyandthejets420
Lanark by Alasdair Gray

5.0

Really quite impossible to describe. One could throw words at it like "big, generous, expansive" but those fail to encompass the woven strands of fantasy, science fiction, children's stories, class commentary, satire, and metatextuality throughout this book (or four books, rather). Being a book that is in some fashion a tragic bildungsroman about an artist, one could also throw words at it like "canvas, diptych, chiaroscuro, painterly," but those would fail to capture how this book is acutely aware of words and they spell they can cast over us. They can make us dream, they can hurt us, they can soothe us against pain, they can offer escape or a sense of purpose. One could call it "gripping," but it also incredibly patient, building up its worlds one stroke (there are the painting words again), one chapter at a time. One could also call it an "epic," but this fails to encompass how the core of the book, the two books of realism nested between two books of heightened fantastical allegory, is a tale of everyday life in industrial Glasgow. It is all of these things and much more than them.

A few words about our hero Duncan Thaw or Lanark. Lanark is the name of a town in Scotland which is thought to come from the word "clear space, glade." Duncan of course is the king in Macbeth but his name comes from the Gaelic personal name Donnchadh, "composed of the elements donn ‘brown-haired man’ or ‘chieftain’ + a derivative of cath ‘battle’" Finally, thaw means of course to become warm and active after being cold and inert. So Duncan Thaw's destiny might be construed of as a "man becoming king" and Lanark's as "a man finding a clear space where he can see the light." But that would be too easy. Duncan Thaw/Lanark is prideful, petty, jealous, self centered, cold, and single-minded. He is both our hero and somebody we would rather not get stuck talking to at a party. I found him both useful as an audience insert and unpleasant as a hero of inaction, merely buffeted along the winds of history, guiding us through this book one fumbling step after another. Bu here I am left thinking that this is most likely the point: being a hero of a fantastical realist story, Duncan is both heroic and pathetic, both larger than life, and ordinary. We're all searching for the light, for the open space in the clearing, and Lanark seems to suggest that we can do it by blending our realism with fantasy.