KEY POINTS:
The other day a publisher told me that Katie Fforde's new novel Going Dutch had outsold the entire Booker shortlist. On one level, that's fine. There's nothing wrong with books that unashamedly set out to entertain. But I suspect that, to many readers, the words Man Booker Prize might be a turn-off; that they carry the suggestion of worthy literary works that are more of a chore than a pleasure to read. Most likely some of the people who buy them leave them in an impressive stack beside their bed or posing on shelves and never stain their pages with bits of egg or spaghetti sauce because they're so engrossing they can't bear to put them down.
Happily, Lloyd Jones' Mister Pip (Penguin) actually is that engrossing. While it may have missed out on the ultimate literary accolade, it still deserves to be on bestseller lists not just in New Zealand, but in every one of the 27 countries it's being sold in (it may be 28 soon as Romania has just made an offer).
On the face of it this is a simple story. It's narrated by a young woman from Papua New Guinea and Jones, a 52-year-old man from Wellington, absolutely nails the challenge of truthful first person writing. He never falls back on any of those literary gadgets many writers love, like clever similes. In fact, this novel isn't about showing how clever Jones is at all.
Set in Bougainville during the civil war in the early 1990s, its narrator, Matilda, is a young woman growing up in a village where people are struggling to lead a normal life despite the conflict. There is no one left to teach the young people, so an elderly eccentric New Zealander, Mr Watts, agrees to help out. His classes consist of reading aloud from Charles Dickens' Great Expectations and gradually the story of the orphaned Pip, the beautiful Estella and the ruined Mrs Havisham captures the children's imagination.
Some literary elitists, the ones who want good literature to be only for them and not for the masses, declare themselves bemused at the success of Jones' book. Well, let them tie themselves up in knots about it.
This novel has many layers and can be read on different levels, all of them valid. It's not a perfect book - some of the imagery in the scenes between Mr Watts and his wife jar a little. And it's not sheer entertainment by any means. But it's accessible, transports its readers to another time and place, and gets them thinking. Most of all it's a story about the power of books and the importance of storytelling. Brutal and violent at times, it is ultimately hopeful. And even Katie Fforde would likely enjoy it.
- Detours, HoS
