Aldous (Gus) Cotton—the asthmatic hero of Ferdinand Mount's critically acclaimed series A Chronicle of Modern Twilight, including his recent Booker Prize–nominated novel Fairness—has a problem: Its name is Harry, a carouser, an amateur jockey, a compulsive gambler, a charmer with an unfortunate penchant for excess. He also happens to be Gus's father. Dead set on detaching himself from any paternal and all real-life responsibilities, Harry begins his descent from the heady realm of the racing set—which afforded him the sweet experience of riding Ampersand, the legendary Gold Cup winner, and champagne by the magnum—to an unglamorous but not undramatic existence in a grim world of lice-infected brothels and gambling houses. At the same time, Harry is thrown into the maelstrom of the Second World War, where comedy meets tragedy to ill-fated effect. In all, Harry's career vibrantly reflects the downward spiral of a once-vigorous nation, and leaves the sometimes amused and frequently appalled Gus trying very hard to love his father.
Ferdinand Mount was born in 1939. For many years he was a columnist at the Spectator and then the Daily Telegraph and The Sunday Times. In between, he was head of the Downing Street Policy Unit and then editor of the Times Literary Supplement. He is now a prize-winning novelist and author of, most recently, the bestselling memoir Cold Cream. He lives in London.
This is a very odd book indeed. A son's somewhat episodic history of his father, a man I don't think he particularly loved or even liked. The episodes are interesting in themselves and very well set, but without a through line, it is hard to get one's head around his character. And that may be the point. Sons don't really know their fathers' lives, just what they glimpsed or heard tell of as anecdotes from dad or his friends.
The writing is quite good and the author is the nephew by marriage of Anthony Powell whose Dance to the Music of Time is equally episodic, but somehow hangs together of its 12 books more coherently that this 250 page novel did for me. Still, I found myself wanting to keep reading it for the good bits and hoping that a theme would emerge and yet not dissatisfied when none did.
Also, this is the first novel in a series Mount called A Chronicle of Modern Twilight.
My good friend PB is an avid fan of Ferdinand Mount. Obviously, I don't share her enthusiasm - about 60 pages into this dated period piece, I wanted to stick knitting needles into my eyes rather than continue.
And yet some people rave about this writer. De gustibus.. and all that good stuff.