|
Reviews
Other
|
|
FASTYNGANGE
By TIM WYNNE-JONES
(M&S; 1988)
Another novel for those who think they’ve heard it all, it being the
story of a talking hole. Yes, a hole, or rather an oubliette,
which not only serves as the story’s chief driving force but also
narrates the thing.
It begins with a drunk happening upon the oubliette in
a dark alley. Glad to have someone to chat with, the hole tells the
drunk its story, which is actually the story of Alexis, a Toronto
resident who travels by herself to England in a bid to escape a
traumatic divorce. She finds herself inexorably drawn to the ruins of an
age-old castle named Fastyngange, which houses the oubliette. Also
lurking in the area are a score of ghosts, all of people who lost their
lives, or at least their sanity, by falling down the hole. Among them is
Alexis’ ex, who went mad upon seeing what lay at the bottom of the
oubliette, meaning a part of him remains in the area as a disembodied
spirit.
Alexis becomes determined to make her estranged husband
whole again, but the only way she can do that is to bring the hole to
him. This situation turns out ideal for both Alexis and the oubliette,
as Fastyngange is scheduled for demolition.
Alexis imbibes the hole and carries it within her on a
cruise ship bound for Canada. The ghosts, however, follow. Inhabiting
many of the ship’s flesh and blood residents, the spirits make life on
board difficult, and force Alexis into a most unexpected act to get rid
of them.
Speaking of unexpected, the narrative takes an entirely
different turn in the final third. Here Alexis returns to her hometown
in Toronto, where we learn through a lengthy psychiatric session that
the preceding may have all been a WHITE HOTEL-like hallucinogenic
reverie based on Alexis’ sexual hang-ups (yes, the carnal connotations
of a malevolent talking hole are noted and explored). It can’t
be, though, because, again, the hole narrates the tale--and undergoes
several more changes of venue before it’s done.
The Canadian Tim Wynne-Jones is a prolific children’s
book author. FASTYNGANGE is apparently something of an anomaly in his
oeuvre, as claimed by the author himself, who now says he can “hardly
believe I had written” this “dark and gloomy adult novel.” The novel is
indeed dark and gloomy, and quite adult in conception, but also
strangely appealing. It’s an arresting feat of sustained weirdness that
loses its footing at times (I question the wisdom of giving a peripheral
figure from the early chapters a major part in the final ones, as by
then I’d totally forgotten the character), but remains a compelling
oddity, and a minor classic of dark imagination. |