Last Night in Twisted River by John Irving
Black Swan, $28.99
John Irving is the king of the long, multilayered novel. In the tradition of Dickens, he cleverly weaves together the intricate threads of cross-generational storylines.
This is best seen in his award-winning A Prayer for Owen Meany and the landmark The World According to Garp. And while the
ingredients are all here in this latest offering, Irving is unable to reach his own high standards: Last Night in Twisted River is more forced, more contrived and less captivating than his previous efforts.
Irving takes us back to his old stomping ground, New Hampshire. This time we are transported to the 1950s, and slap bang into a two-bit logging camp. Here, we meet "the cook" and "his son", who feed the men and try to carve out a life after the unexpected death of wife and mother. And then there is the rest of the motley crew: the Indian dishwasher, the cowboy, six-pack Pam, and the cook's oldest pal, Ketchum. Irving, it seems, feels compelled to give everybody a functional moniker.
The book opens with the death of a young Canadian, Angel, who is sucked under the logs and drowned. The death sits heavy on the characters, reminding them all of the death of "the cook's" wife. As the story unfolds it becomes obvious that it won't be the only unfortunate "accident" to befall them.
We don't stay in the logging camp long as they run from their past, meeting copious new characters and avoiding an old one as best they can.
This becomes the book's greatest flaw: just when we have invested time and energy in characters and locations, Irving burns out his story thread and we hit the road again - not to mention the time machine - churning not only miles but decades in our wake.
You know a novel is in trouble when the author adds an appendix to not only explain his need to write it, but also why he still uses his old-fashioned, 19th century style. He makes no apologies for this, and neither should he. The fact he mentions it at all, indicates he is aware that, stylistically, time is moving on.
It is this awareness, I think, that has had a detrimental impact on his storytelling - he is overcompensating, going beyond his normal scope, and has produced something that does not reflect the talents he possesses.
Steve Scott is an Auckland reviewer.
