It's been a few weeks since I read this new book by
Christopher Fowler, and I've been wanting to praise it. However, the very
nature of this book induced a sudden bout of writers block in me, of a
particularly persistent strain. Calabash is all about the internal life
of an adolescent called Kay Goodwin. Kay was not the name given to him by
his parents, for he was originally called 'Kevin'. Such was his shame
that Kay forced everyone to call him by his adopted name at a very early age,
and I can well understand that. Since Kay has grown up reading books
about fantastic lands, it could be that he chose this name from the hero of
John Masefield's The Box of Delights. Certainly the title of Fowler's
novel seems to be derived from the Tanzanian tale of The Calabash Kids.
Names are, after all, an important part of our identity. Kay chooses to
define himself, to be his own person, and not to follow what the crowd does in
his home town of Cole Bay. Like Kitete in the legend, Kay does his own
thing, and exasperates his mother, who thinks he's sitting around all day,
doing nothing... Fowler also makes great use of the calabash's
traditional properties as metaphor in his narrative.
If all this sounds unworldly, well, then it
is. And then it isn't. Some readers may be surprised by the fact
that Joanne Harris of 'Chocolat' fame has written the exuberant cover
blurb, since Christopher Fowler's previous work had seemed to be mired in the
seedy world of horror, whilst Harris' writing has recently borne fruit in the
literary marketplace. Yet, if you compare Calabash with Blackberry Wine,
Joanne Harris' latest novel, you'll see that there are similar themes.
The most obvious bridge here is that both novels feature the experience of
adolescence in the early 70s (although Harris' hero is younger). As
Fowler himself has written, this theme of growing up is very powerful, since
everyone can identify with it. No doubt most people will have felt
isolated and alone as they were going through their teenage years, whether they
were one of the legendary 'Quiet Ones', or not. Fowler also shares with
Harris a love of the fantastic, especially as escape from the mundane.
Since Joanne Harris also wrote the sublime Pre-Raphaelite novel 'Sleep,
Pale Sister', you can't help but think that she supplied the detail in
Calabash that Lizzie Rossetti, "unhappy wife of the artist Dante Gabriel
Rossetti... topped herself with an overdose of laudanum in 1862".
Harris and Fowler have also trekked deep into Tales from The One Thousand and
One Nights (Fowler calls the hotel in Cole Bay 'The Scheherazade'). With
a recent excellent television adaptation, it seems that these magical eastern
stories are now very much back in fashion. There's also a hint of Ray
Bradbury in Venice, California as Kay likens the Cole Bay pier to
"the bones of some great forgotten animal".
Although Christopher Fowler says that he is
attempting to forge some new ground in his writing, I don't think that his
themes have changed as much as his tone has. Admittedly, I'm only using
Soho Black as a comparison here, but this earlier novel also featured a
protagonist in an altered state of reality. As the title would suggest,
Soho Black was very dark and ugly. I must admit here that I have a
gnawing distrust of novels which feature Soho (i.e. - every other book I've
read this year seems to have featured Soho or Sohotype film execs). So
prevalent are these Soho fictions that I'm tempted to compare them with those
early nineteenth century novels which revolved around Bath, with huge contrasts
between lightness and dark (I'm willing to bet that 'Soho Black' will attain
literary immortality for so ably capturing the feel of the times).
Cole Bay is also a Victorian recreational town, a Bath which has fallen into
bleak disrepair because its inhabitants have lost their will to care, to
achieve, to make something of themselves.
Because his home town is so dire, Kay seeks
escape. He researches and makes models of the old cities of lore like
Babylon. Pursued by a bear, in the form of a bully from his school, Kay
arrives in the fantastic land of Calabash. In contrast to Cole Bay, this
sea city is built around a warm harbour. The people are friendly too,
especially the exquisite beauty known as the Princess Rosamunde. Not
only is Kay welcomed into the fantastic land of Calabash, but it seems that the
people there have been waiting for him, and might actually have summoned
him... Kay relaxes into his fantasy world, doing what he wishes, dropping
school. But is Kay really the master of this domain? Can he really
leave his life in Cole Bay behind?
Christopher Fowler should also be allowed to
escape the morgue which is currently known as 'horror', to be let out into the
mainstream, to flee the zombies he's been placed next to on bookshelves.
However, Fowler hasn't completely turned back on his roots. There's
a very powerful colonial theme residing in 'Calabash' which places this book
amongst the most imaginative of the Victorian Gothic period, like Haggard's
'She' and Stoker's 'Dracula', with the exception here being that Fowler is the
much more competent novelist. Cole Bay in the 70s seems to be at the very
nadir of the Victorian dreams of empire. What Fowler seems to be tackling
is that most stimulating of paradoxes: how can we use our imaginations in the
real world without subjugating the wills and dreams of others? For what
reason does the imaginary exist; for good or for ill? Why do we feel the
urge to walk through the wardrobe into Narnia? And why, like Harry Potter
and Hogwarts, are these dreams shared en masse?
Christopher Fowler questions our need for fiction,
and weaves a quite seductive answer. Like Kay, you'll find that Calabash
is very difficult to leave....
Authortrek Rating: 9/10.
Kevin Patrick Mahoney
Read our
Christopher Fowler interview
