I’ve linked these two very different novels via the theme of compromised freedom, partly because that’s how I feel myself right now. In the first, an elderly widow frees herself from pity by casting a stranger as her grandson but fears being found out. In the second, women are magically freed from misogyny at a cost of losing the men and boys they love.
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Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont by Elizabeth Taylor
Newly widowed, and not wanting to be a burden on her daughter, Mrs Palfrey takes up residence at a London hotel. Rather like the care home she is at pains to avoid, she finds herself in the company of other older people whom she’d never choose as friends. With empty days, they have little conversation apart from the predictable dinner menu and boasts about relatives who rarely visit.
Keeping up appearances being of paramount importance, when Mrs Palfrey’s grandson fails to appear, she grabs the opportunity to pass off as kin a young man she meets when she takes a fall outside his flat. As a budding writer, Ludo sees her as material and is happy to play along. It’s an unusual friendship, but it seems to work, being the source of the novel’s wry humour, rendered plausible by the author’s skill.
I’d seen book bloggers praising this novel for some time, but hadn’t got round to reading it. I’m so glad I finally picked it up. First published in 1971, it’s a lovely story of ageing, friendship and the small deceptions that can support us through tough times. Click on the image for a blog post about other novels with older characters. If this appeals, you might also like my own novel about an older woman in an institution making the best of a sorry situation.
Keeping up appearances being of paramount importance, when Mrs Palfrey’s grandson fails to appear, she grabs the opportunity to pass off as kin a young man she meets when she takes a fall outside his flat. As a budding writer, Ludo sees her as material and is happy to play along. It’s an unusual friendship, but it seems to work, being the source of the novel’s wry humour, rendered plausible by the author’s skill.
I’d seen book bloggers praising this novel for some time, but hadn’t got round to reading it. I’m so glad I finally picked it up. First published in 1971, it’s a lovely story of ageing, friendship and the small deceptions that can support us through tough times. Click on the image for a blog post about other novels with older characters. If this appeals, you might also like my own novel about an older woman in an institution making the best of a sorry situation.
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The Men by Sandra Newman
Jane is camping with her husband and young son when the pair of them go missing. Locked in fear and grief, she searches for them for days. Yet, when she drives down the mountain, she discovers she’s not the only one strangely bereaved: every male has disappeared.
At first there’s chaos, as it turns out the infrastructure was largely run by men. Yet, freed from the male gaze, and despite their pain at losing people they’ve loved, the women are more relaxed. Perhaps they can build a better world.
Soon they discover strange footage online showing ranks of men and boys marching like zombies through a devastated landscape. Some watchers become addicted. Others swear it’s a scam. But when they recognise their own loved ones on-screen, they can’t give up.
Meanwhile, Jane has connected with an old friend, Evangelyne, a promising politician, already famous for her book On Commensalism. The two become lovers. Both have interesting back stories in which they have committed crimes through being abused by men, although Evangelyne has been hurt more by racism than misogyny.
Having enjoyed the author’s previous novel, The Heavens, I was prepared for another thought-provoking, zany and sometimes confusing narrative. A strange cli-fi dystopian novel about gender and racism. Thanks to British publishers Granta for my advance proof copy.
At first there’s chaos, as it turns out the infrastructure was largely run by men. Yet, freed from the male gaze, and despite their pain at losing people they’ve loved, the women are more relaxed. Perhaps they can build a better world.
Soon they discover strange footage online showing ranks of men and boys marching like zombies through a devastated landscape. Some watchers become addicted. Others swear it’s a scam. But when they recognise their own loved ones on-screen, they can’t give up.
Meanwhile, Jane has connected with an old friend, Evangelyne, a promising politician, already famous for her book On Commensalism. The two become lovers. Both have interesting back stories in which they have committed crimes through being abused by men, although Evangelyne has been hurt more by racism than misogyny.
Having enjoyed the author’s previous novel, The Heavens, I was prepared for another thought-provoking, zany and sometimes confusing narrative. A strange cli-fi dystopian novel about gender and racism. Thanks to British publishers Granta for my advance proof copy.
 | With my ongoing health issues, I’m finding it hard to tune into this week’s flash fiction prompt of freedom. While it’s great to be free of the hospital, and to be definitely getting stronger, and not free of disease. Apologies for another blast of narcissism. |
It’s just a bigger cage
It was over a month since she’d sat behind the wheel. Would her limbs remember what to do? She’d never associated driving with freedom, except as the means to find more beautiful places to walk.
Yet it felt good to join the procession of traffic, of people fit enough to go to work. In the car, she could move as fast as they could, although she might not be travelling as far.
On her previous journey down this road, her ailment was a mystery. Now she mourns the health she’s lost as she collects a new pack of pills.
It was over a month since she’d sat behind the wheel. Would her limbs remember what to do? She’d never associated driving with freedom, except as the means to find more beautiful places to walk.
Yet it felt good to join the procession of traffic, of people fit enough to go to work. In the car, she could move as fast as they could, although she might not be travelling as far.
On her previous journey down this road, her ailment was a mystery. Now she mourns the health she’s lost as she collects a new pack of pills.
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