Phil Smith’s Profile

Gormenghast is the sequel to Peake's earlier work Titus Groan. Despite the deaths and disappearances of many of the previous book's cast, life in the castle continues: like a colony of insects, the system is far more important than the insects that m

Gormenghast is the sequel to Peake's earlier work Titus Groan. Despite the deaths and disappearances of many of the previous book's cast, life in the castle continues: like a colony of insects, the system is far more important than the insects that make it up. However, things are not well.

There is a disease and its name is Steerpike. Throughout the book he contrives to climb even higher than he managed in Titus Groan. He has his sights set on the Earldom. His plan involves many steps: firstly, to kill Barquentine and take his position, thus gaining control of the rituals by which Gormenghast is run. Though his murder is successful, Steerpike is burned and disfigured by the act, and this has dire consequences later on. While delirious and recovering, he lets slip the clue 'and the twins will make it five', rousing his former master Doctor Prunesquallor's suspicions.

Seducing Lady Fuchsia is the next part of his scheme: thus he hopes to gain her support and legitimise his claim to power, using the threat of scandal to keep her at bay. Boldest of all is his plan to kill Titus. He sets about this task with all the audacity of a Fantômas or Zenith the Albino, but all it takes is for one thing to go wrong and the whole plan unravels. Luck is not on his side.

But what of Titus? In the last book we saw him grow from a baby to a toddler. In this book we see his childhood and adolescence, and the development of a young rebel. His resentment of the role his birthright has thrust upon him is tangible: the rituals seem increasingly tedious and pointless and his desire to be free of it all grows throughout the book.

Meanwhile, Steerpike grows increasingly unstable. Though he has taken Barquentine's position, Prunesquallor and Titus's mother are thoroughly suspicious of him. Flay's secret return to the castle to watch over Titus makes Steerpike's life and schemes even harder.

Unsurprising, then, that things go wrong for him. His attempt to seduce Fuchsia backfires and his deeds are found out. Forced to go rogue, he brings his bid for power forward, attempting to murder Titus and evading capture. Only when the castle is flooded are they able to corner him, and Titus manages to kill him, more by luck than judgement.

The body count continues to climb throughout the novel: Nannie Slagg, Flay, Cora and Clarice, Barquentine; small wonder that at the end of it Titus wants to put it all behind him. The book closes with Titus abdicating and riding away from the castle.

So much for the plot.

On the whole it's a gripping read, much like the book that came before it. The same evocative language, the same vivid images: it's one of Peake's most famous books and deservedly so. Although I didn't mention it in the summary of the plot, my favourite part of the story is Irma Prunesquallor's manic pursuit of a husband. Her decision to court the professors is one of the most hysterical things I've read in a novel; with two people in their late middle years, who, owing to the cloistered nature of their upbringings or professions, have had a bare minimum of contact with the opposite sex. Bellgrove is one of the more likable characters in the book, and seeing him try to handle his insolent staff is always good for a laugh.

I'm still a bit ambiguous about The Lord of the Rings. On the one hand, it's set in a very detailed universe, without so much as an atom out of place (apart from Tom Bombadil, who was meant to be an anomaly). Everything's thought through in exhaustiv

I'm still a bit ambiguous about The Lord of the Rings. On the one hand, it's set in a very detailed universe, without so much as an atom out of place (apart from Tom Bombadil, who was meant to be an anomaly). Everything's thought through in exhaustive detail and there is a terrific sense of time and place about the whole thing. On the other hand, it's long. I could almost say it's overlong, but then my version of this book is an enormous one-volume paperback and that could easily influence my opinion. Although it's an exaggeration to say that Tolkien will spend a page describing a rock, there are times when that exaggeration doesn't seem all that drastic.

The books have plenty of high points. The encounters with the Ringwraiths, Saruman, Gríma and Gollum are among my favourites. The Fellowship's arduous journey through Moria is very dear to this old dungeon-crawler's heart. But at the same time there's stuff that makes me cringe.

The religious imagery might not be immediately obvious, but once you're clued into it (lembas wafers / Eucharist, Gandalf's resurrection, Gandalf calling on Théoden to cast aside his stick) it does grate a little. This might be my own personal prejudice getting in the way again, though: don't let that put you off.

Similarly, the hobbits themselves aren't really to my liking. Don't get me wrong, I like the bits of characterisation that Frodo, Merry, Pippin, Ted Sandyman and arguably Gollum get, but the rest of them? What was it Moorcock said? The only good hobbit is a roast hobbit. I'm inclined to agree. With a few brush strokes, most of them are painted as stereotypical stolid yokels who 'don't hold with wearing ironmongery, whether it wears well or no'. It's a nice line, but it's so cheesy that I could grate it up and serve it on a baked potato.

All the same, it's not a bad read. Tolkien was determined to get his vision across, took his time, and tied up all the loose ends he could. He was a man very much in love with language. It shows. Pace yourself and you may well find something to enjoy.

If you haven't the patience, though, pick up the 1981 BBC Radio adaptation. It's wonderfully acted and the late Michael Hordern is the definitive Gandalf. I'd rate it over the movies any day.

Certain books have got me through various phases of my life. My first year at high school, fraught with all its just-pre-pubescent worries? 1984. The fourth and fifth years, replete with exams and adolescent frustration? Terry Pratchett's Discworld b

Certain books have got me through various phases of my life. My first year at high school, fraught with all its just-pre-pubescent worries? 1984. The fourth and fifth years, replete with exams and adolescent frustration? Terry Pratchett's Discworld books. Michael Moorcock saw me through the wilderness years of sixth form.

As for university? The only books I really remember reading during those wasted years were by Peake. Although I didn't plan to do so, I read Titus Groan in my first year, Gormenghast in the second and Titus Alone in the third. I wish I'd read them sooner.

Anyone who found C.S. Lewis preachy or Tolkien ponderous could do far worse than look to the Gormenghast trilogy. His castle is populated with grotesques, from the obese Swelter to the skeletal Flay. Each has his own role to play in the ritualised and ordered realm of Gormenghast, and few dare question it, even though their quirks have catapulted them from being merely eccentric to a state of damn near instability. With a few skillful sentences, Peake puts together a wonderful landscape, which for all its lack of wizards and goblins, is a million times superior to and more fantastic than any bog-standard fantasy world you could care to name. I may be resorting to hyperbole here, but it's the truth and I'll spank anyone who says different.

Still, into this world come two outsiders: the first is a baby, the titular Titus Groan, heir to the castle, title and everything else; and the scheming Steerpike. Condemned to work in the kitchens, Steerpike contrives to escape from the role fate has assigned him. He ingratiates himself with Fuchsia, Titus's older sister, becomes the assistant to Doctor Prunesquallor, but there is no limit to his ambition. He has bigger plans in store.

Steerpike is very much the star of this book. A cold, calculating sociopath, the sort we all love to hate. A magnificent bastard of the highest water. He quickly works out a plot to depose the current Earl of Gormenghast, influencing the Earl's vacant and greedy sisters to set fire to the Earl's library and drive him insane. This gives Steerpike a chance to play the hero and thus gain more power and influence.

By the end of the book the Earl goes mad and offers himself to the castle's vicious owls, his servant Flay is banished, Sourdust the secretary is burnt to death and young Titus has been made Earl, even though he is still a toddler. Steerpike's star is very much in ascendance...

I fail to do the plot justice. The descriptive text is first rate, the characters engaging and weird, the dialogue scintillating and the whole one of the greatest works of an author snatched from us well before his time. Read it now!