An elderly gentleman confronts the darker forces beneath his seemingly tranquil existence in this novel of hindsight and self-awareness. As the victim of a debilitating stroke, the man finds solace in reliving his time spent working in Japan, a euphoric period in which he was surrounded by an assortment of intriguing figures, including his unhappy wife, his efficient research assistant, and his inscrutable houseboy. Now that his condition has left him partially blind, he ironically begins to see past events with renewed clarity, and his idle musings are suddenly shattered by a shocking realization that hurls him into oblivion.
Francis Henry King, CBE, was a British novelist, poet and short story writer.
He was born in Adelboden, Switzerland, brought up in India and educated at Shrewsbury School and Balliol College, Oxford. During World War II he was a conscientious objector, and left Oxford to work on the land. After completing his degree in 1949 he worked for the British Council; he was posted around Europe, and then in Kyoto. He resigned to write full time in 1964.
He was a past winner of the W. Somerset Maugham Prize for his novel The Dividing Stream (1951) and also won the Katherine Mansfield Short Story Prize. A President Emeritus of International PEN and a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, he was appointed an Officer (OBE) of the Order of the British Empire in 1979 and a Commander of the Order (CBE) in 1985.
The 28th of King's novels for me to read; his 31st (penultimate) one, from 2007.
Amongst King's novels, I seem to cotton most to those with a darker, more sinister side to them. This is probably his bleakest of all of them I've read, so far. It concerns an unnamed English narrator who has suffered a stroke, and the chapters alternate between the present-day struggles with his recovery, and a time some 40 or 50 years previously, that he spent as a scholarship student studying Japanese prints in that country with his wife and new baby. Slowly and inexorably, he begins to remember and unravel the strange and ultimately violent circumstances that may have precipitated his illness. Not for the faint of heart, but so cleverly plotted and deftly written, it might be my favorite of his works.