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Untied Kingdom by James Lovegrove
Pub: Gollancz. 404 page enlarged paperback or hardback.
Price: £10.99 (UK-paperback) or £17.99 (UK-hardback). ISBN: 0-575-07386-1
(paperback) 0-575-07385-3 (hardback)
check out website: www.orionbooks.co.uk
or www.jameslovegrove.com
In
the current climate of political uncertainty with the looming prospect
of another Gulf War on the horizon as I read this, I was enthralled
by the prospect of reading a book with a subject matter that was
so unusually relevant to present events. ‘Untied Kingdom’ is set
in a fictional England that has become the victim of its own economy
and the interference of the International Community (the International
Community being a thinly disguised United Nations).
An
economic collapse has lead to a complete disintegration of the country's
infrastructure, centralised governmental rule has ended and the
land has returned to a semi-feudalistic state where individual towns
and villages scratch a living out of the dirt as best they can.
People survive without any of the conveniences we enjoy.
There is no power and very little fuel to power mechanical
equipment such as cars or generators. On top of this, the International
Community (lead by America it seems) have bombed much of the country
into utter ruin in an effort to control the chaotic situation that
presides over the nation. This effort only succeeds in increasing
the misery of England's citizens in an eerie parallel of what may
potentially currently befall the people of Iraq.
Into this turmoil, Lovegrove introduces the two main characters
whose stories will form the main narrative drive of the novel. Fen
Morris is a man who lives in a small village called Downbourne.
The town managed to cope with the crisis quite successfully by
establishing a strong self-sufficient community, centred on the
leadership of an enigmatic figure called The Green Man.
In return for goods and services, Fen aids the town by continuing
in his role as a teacher to a small group of children, whose parents
hope that gaining an education may still help their progeny to better
their chances in later life. Fen's situation is complicated by the
fact that his long-term marriage to Moira has fallen apart over
the last year. This is due to a terrible event that befell the two
of them, which seems to have irrevocably soured their relationship.
Shortly after, we are introduced to this community a band of thugs
from a London gang arrive in Downbourne. They kidnap Moira and many
of the other women from the village. Fen decides to go in chase
of them to get his wife back. From which point, the novel turns
into a road trip adventure as we follow Fen on his journey to London.
Occasionally, the narrative shifts to Moira's point of view, allowing
us a glimpse of the continuing struggles of the Downbourne women.
Sounds exciting, right? Unfortunately, the book never lives up
to its fascinating premise and quickly degenerates into a clichéd
and ultimately unsatisfactory attempt at speculative fiction, which
reads like a book that has been consigned to the bottom of the Booker
Prize reject pile.
The moment when the novel began to fail for me came when I was
assailed by a familiarly unpleasant sinking feeling as I realised
I knew what was going to happen next. For me, the mark of a true
storyteller is in their ability to confound your expectations of
what should happen and amaze you with what does happen.
Unfortunately, Lovegrove quickly falls into a highly conventional
style of narrative that fails to surprise almost as often as it
fails to entertain. Indeed, some of the episodes depicted are so
remarkably similar to each other that it was often an effort to
force myself to continue to read. This conventionality is enforced
by Lovegrove's persistence in using stereotypical archetypes to
depict everyone except his main characters.
The London gang that invades Downbourne are a bunch of skinheads
in football shirts straight out of an ITV documentary on hooliganism.
At one point, Lovegrove describes them bobbing their heads in unison
to 'rock music', for as anyone who has seen any modern films knows,
the bad guys always listen to heavy metal. Their leader is the only
one who is granted even a modicum of individuality, albeit of the
tired 'soft-hearted boss of nasty hard men' variety.
Even more reprehensible is the moment when Fen is placed in the
position of tutoring some children from an affluent background and
reflects on how much better it is to be given the opportunity of
teaching pupils who are of course universally intelligent, unlike
the poor common Downbourne kids he taught previously.
Lovegrove's attempts to stray away from this formula actually succeed
in making the book worse. There is one particularly laughable moment
when a dog pack hunts Fen down and Lovegrove switches to the narrative
perspective of one of the dogs themselves, a section that reads
like an unskilled parody of Watership Down.
There are moments of great promise however. The finale of the book
is successfully didactic whilst being simultaneously emotionally
moving, a difficult task at the best of times. It is an event that
almost makes it worth struggling to the end of the novel.
Lovegrove never actively bores and there were several moments when
I found myself chuckling at Fen's observations of the characters
he meets. Most importantly, Lovegrove's unfortunately rare comments
regarding the way the International Community has treated England
are incisive and thought-provoking and would possibly be a beneficial
read for the leaders of certain well-known western democracies.
Although the novel is far from being amongst the worst that I have
read, the neglectful way in which Lovegrove wastes such an interesting
idea leaves me feeling more antipathy towards it than I might have
done otherwise.
Where I wished for a greater expansion of the events that brought
England down, for greater detail of the world in which the author's
characters live, Lovegrove only provided tawdry and episodic vignettes
that consistently failed to impress.
A missed opportunity from a writer who could do far better.
Paul Skevington
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