It would be all too easy to assume from the title of
Weldon's latest novel that it is a depressing read. However, I doubt that
Weldon could ever seriously be mournful, especially not when you have both
nurses and desire inextricably linked, as you have here. There's just a
brief mention of Blues hero Stephane Grapelli, but that's just about how far
the relevance goes. However, if you do know who Grapelli was, then you
may well be of Felicity's generation in this novel. The title's also
an oblique reference to Rhode Island Reds, a particularly fancied breed of
chicken at the moment. Apparently, these poultry are extremely easy to
rear. It's just Felicity's luck however, that she marries an American GI
who hasn't a clue about how to run his own farm. She's even more
unfortunate in that she believed his tales of a plantation mansion. Fifty
years later, the funeral of her son-in-law from this marriage leads to a
quite unexpected flirtation with romance.
Admittedly, parts of Felicity's life
story are quite grim. Sophia, her only living relative, works in
London as a film editor, whilst Felicity herself abides in Connecticut.
Felicity has had a minor stroke, and is coming to terms with the reality of her
advancing years. Sophia loves her grandmother - it's just that she feels
far more comfortable when the Atlantic ocean is in between them. Her
busy life as a film editor means that she cannot just drop everything and be by
her grandmother's bedside in Connecticut. Weldon is very perceptive in
relating how much guilt can taint love, and how uncomfortable the young can be
beside the old.
Sophia, and Charlie the chauffeur, tend to
view the world from the perspective of movies. When Sophia visits an aged
relative Weldon notes that this old lady tends to use references from the fairy
books of her youth in her conversation. Maybe what Weldon is saying here
is that the motion picture is now the dominant form of fiction.
Unfortunately, it really grinds my teeth to come across yet another character
in an English novel this year who works in the Soho media world. If
future readers ever come back to these novels, like Toby Litt's 'Corpsing', and
Amy Jenkins' dire 'Honeymoon', they might think that everyone in England was
working in film. The only writer who has a credible excuse for writing
about Soho is Christopher Fowler who actually works there. The impression
I get is that most young English novelists would really much rather prefer
writing for the movies, and I can't help but think that this is very sad.
Sophia mentions many films in her narrative,
whilst neglecting to mention the most obvious one: 'Harvey'. Okay,
so The Golden Bowl is an old peoples' home, but it does stand comparison with
the mental institution in Jimmy Stewart's movie. Okay, so you don't
get to see the invisible rabbit in 'Rhode Island Blues' either - it's the
interaction between the characters and the structure that seems quite
similar. You don't see the whole of this story from Sophia's viewpoint,
since Weldon chooses to flit between the main characters at times. It's
quite a jolt to suddenly see the world from Nurse Dawn's perspective, who seems
to be such a minor character otherwise. But then 'Harvey' also strayed
from Jimmy Stewart's suspect vision, into other smaller narratives, such as the
nurse's romance with the doctor. Although, this being Weldon, the
Doctor/Nurse relationship here is far more risqué.
Feliticty's mental health comes into question when
she starts seeing a gambling toy boy, and when the staff at The Golden Bowl
discover what we've known all along - namely that her Utrillo painting is not a
print. With insurance being such a premium in the litigatory States,
moves are made to ensure the safe removal of the Utrillo from the Golden Bowl's
walls (James Stewart's mental state in 'Harvey' was also brought into question
due to a suspect portrait). Unfortunately, Felicity has also let
slip to Sophia that she may have more family in England. Sophia, all
alone apart from a temporary fling with a film director of Kubrick's stature,
can't help but investigate her roots. She finds a couple of quite dull
cousins who eventually let her enter their lives. Felicity impulsively
decides to remarry at the tender age of 83. Sophia's cousins just as
impulsively decide to check out their newly found grandmother, and petulantly
join Sophia on her trip to the States. The question on everyone's minds
seems to be this: is such an old woman capable of looking after a valuable
Utrillo?
Ironically, Utrillo spent much of his own life in
and out of institutions, with painting his only therapy. From this point of
view, it's very fitting that his work should end up on the walls of an
institution like The Golden Bowl. Sophia recognises the name of the old
peoples' home as deriving from a passage in Ecclesiastes. No doubt it is
also a reference to the novel of the same name - that also featured a suspected
gold digger. What this novel seems to be about broadly, is the clash
between the new and the old: the disparities between British and American
culture, the contrast between the generations, and old and new forms of
fiction. Several novels this year have discussed a problem which troubles
Western culture: what to do with an ever aging population, from Will Self's
vulgar 'How the Dead Live', to Barbara Kingsolver's life-affirming 'Prodigal
Summer'. Weldon comes somewhere in between the two extremes. There
is something quite merciless about some of her observations, mostly concerning
the immigrant Charlie and his ever increasing family. But most chilling
and timely of all is Sophia's disquieting journey on Concorde. However,
Weldon provides us with a mixed dish here; not all of her prognosis is quite as
gloomy as this. The blues are there, but playing quietly in the
background with the reds.
authortrek rating 8/10.
Kevin Patrick Mahoney
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