(published in Woman's Weekly Fiction Special April/May
issue 8)
For those hungry to read more of Joanne Harris, like
myself, it's a relief to find that you don't have to go too far to read her new
fiction. The only difficulty for a bloke is due to the prospect of having
to purchase such a girlie magazine. I bolstered my machismo by
buying a copy of the Guardian at the same time, but I'm sure no one else was
fooled by the deception. Having said that, I have bought a few copies of
this magazine in the past, since it would appear to be the biggest selling
short story mag, which publishes both famous and unknown writers, thus suitable
material for Authortrek.
Joanne Harris' story has a topic which has much to
do with the marketing of such periodicals: "My son Tom calls every
fortnight with my magazines". I too have done this, bought copies of
'People's Friend' and inoffensive editions of 'Story Cellar' to my
great-grandmother in hospital. "But he isn't much of a
conversationalist" - Harris gets top marks for that observation, it is
incredibly difficult to say anything meaningful to an aged, frail and
institutionalized relative, especially since you feel that they're completely
cut off from the outside world, with not even their choice of radio or TV to entertain
them. You're only left with that most embarrassing of conversations - the
weather. The shame of this is enough to shut anyone up.
Faith and
Hope are two old ladies in Meadowbank Home (where Pog Hill Lane used to be and
where Joe Cox resides in Harris' novel 'Blackberry Wine'). Like Joe Cox
and his National Geographics, Faith finds escape through the pages of
magazines, and mental stimulation from former Cambridge academic and fellow
inmate, Hope. Life is not a rose-tinted panacea; there are the nurses,
who are good and bad, but mostly indifferent: "They get that look, even
the brighter ones - that nursery-nurse smile which says, 'I know better because
you're old.'" How easy it is to succumb to the temptation of
treating old people like children.
There are those in the home who are fully
signed-up to the escape committee, going beyond imaginations stirred by
magazines, but not quite stretched to the digging of tunnels under the kitchen
stove:"Mrs. McAllister - ninety-two, spry and as mad as a hatter - keeps
escaping. She thinks she's going home". When Faith and Hope
make their bid for escape, it is with an ingenious and hilarious plan.
They make their way to London, despite their various handicaps, to the home of
luxury, Fortnum and Mason, with Faith's dream of escape revolving around a pair
of ruby-red shoes... "He was carrying them, carefully, all sucked
sweet shiny and red, red, red". Delicious. But is
this the land of Oz where all dreams come true?
So, 'Faith and Hope go Shopping' is very much
a Joanne Harris story, with most of her usual ingredients. But you
can't help wondering if she has had to blunt her sting somewhat to get
published here, to tally with the perceived view of what is suitable for such
magazines. After all, I only gave my great-grandmother copies of
'People's Friend' because it was so inoffensive. But I was very grumpy
that although Joanne Harris got the first story slot, she wasn't given quite
the same billing as Colin Dexter, Philippa Gregory, or Rosamunde Pilcher.
Boo! Hiss!
AuthorTrek Rating: 8/10.
Kevin Patrick Mahoney
