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withanhauser 's review for:
O Caledonia
by Elspeth Barker
For me, "O Caledonia" seems defined by its intentional incompleteness. From the outset, we know that the book ends with its protagonist's murder at 16; and yet, her death in the last half page feels so sudden--and somehow so unexpected--that, through it, Barker seems to be saying just as much as she does in the preceding 187 pages. What is the intent of such an abrupt ending? Is it to convey the brutal and immediate violence of men (and society writ large) as a force against non-conformity, to conveniently end the novel while symbolically demarcating the termination of one's youth, something else? It reminded me a lot of the end of "The Magic Mountain," by Thomas Mann--a (much longer) novel that also ends suddenly with the protagonist's death upon entering adulthood (and which, in doing so, comments on the futility of war).
The novel's abrupt ending is a double-edged sword--it works well (and I liked it), but it cuts the reader off from a book that feels like it's just starting to find its place. Barker is a good writer. Dark, a little weird, distinct. A slug found in a salad is squelched under a plate. 44. The perhaps inconsequential difference between forgetfulness and forgiveness is considered in passing. 106. The joy of discovering a new word-stillicidium--is immediately displaced by the absence of someone with whom to share that joy. 111. A jackdaw named Claws that, rather than saying, "Nevermore," says "Never mind." The book is skillfully understated--small scenes, small thoughts, that pack a lot.
In an Introduction to the most recent edition of the book, Maggie O'Farrell writes that "O Caledonia" is difficult to place in terms of genre--not bildungsroman, not YA, not gothic. I both disagree and agree. On the one hand, the novel seems to fit squarely into that group of non-conforming, misfit coming-of-age movies/books (e.g., Rushmore, Ladybird, Ham on Rye). But, on the other hand, its ending really puts it into its own genre--transforming it from a dark coming-of-age novel, to (arguably) a much darker commentary on how society can keep us from coming of age.
The novel's abrupt ending is a double-edged sword--it works well (and I liked it), but it cuts the reader off from a book that feels like it's just starting to find its place. Barker is a good writer. Dark, a little weird, distinct. A slug found in a salad is squelched under a plate. 44. The perhaps inconsequential difference between forgetfulness and forgiveness is considered in passing. 106. The joy of discovering a new word-stillicidium--is immediately displaced by the absence of someone with whom to share that joy. 111. A jackdaw named Claws that, rather than saying, "Nevermore," says "Never mind." The book is skillfully understated--small scenes, small thoughts, that pack a lot.
In an Introduction to the most recent edition of the book, Maggie O'Farrell writes that "O Caledonia" is difficult to place in terms of genre--not bildungsroman, not YA, not gothic. I both disagree and agree. On the one hand, the novel seems to fit squarely into that group of non-conforming, misfit coming-of-age movies/books (e.g., Rushmore, Ladybird, Ham on Rye). But, on the other hand, its ending really puts it into its own genre--transforming it from a dark coming-of-age novel, to (arguably) a much darker commentary on how society can keep us from coming of age.