The painter Terry Godden was on the brink of his first success. After a violent crisis, he finds himself outcast.
In his fifties, and with little money, he retreats to a small island. Arriving in the winter, the island at first seems a desolate and forgotten place. As the seasons turn, Terry begins to see the island's beauty, and discovers that he is only one of many people who have sought refuge here. These independent outsiders, all with their own considerable struggles, have made a precarious home.
The island is owned by the business man and art collector Alex Kaplan. His decision to enforce a rent increase as he seeks to improve his property looks set to destroy this community that cannot afford to lose the little they have left. As an artist, Terry believes making the invisible struggles of the island visible to the world will help - but will his interference save anybody other than himself
Howard Cunnell was born in Eastbourne, East Sussex, and lives in London. He has worked as a scuba diving instructor, lifeguard, and labourer. He is the editor of Jack Kerouac's "On The Road- The Original Scroll", and is a Leverhulme Research Fellow at the University of Sussex. "Marine Boy" is his first novel.
It’s notable (or perhaps it isn’t) that with this and Rose Ruane’s This is Yesterday, we’ve now seen a couple of novels that are at least tangentially involved with the venality of the British art world. Both Ruane’s Peach and Cunnell’s Terry Godden have been exploited (admittedly in different ways) by the art world and both novels have some fascinating things to say about the role of art in society and, in particular, how those from a working class background are only given limited and highly conditional access to this world.
Cunnell’s novel is a lot more visceral and direct in its anger than Ruane’s and at points reminded me a little of Hubert Selby Jr in its levels of compassion and moral certitude. It also disconcerted me initially because for some reason I was expecting a gentler, more indulgent, read and in many ways The Painter’s Friend is a brilliant dismantling of the (largely middle class) trope of the artist in retreat to ‘find’ or ‘recentre’ themselves. This is not a luxury that Terry, nor any of his companions, are ever likely to be afforded.
The inhabitants of the island to which Terry retreats after being cheated by art dealer Evelyn Crow are society’s outsiders, the forgotten, the rejected. Their lives are hard and they are precarious and there is little that is romantic or sentimental about them. And yet, they have formed a diffident community of sorts, held together not only by their common need for survival but of the role of various forms of creativity and art in their lives.
At its heart, this is a novel about the destructive forces of gentrification and yet it is often an oddly beautiful and even poetic one. In many ways, it’s reminiscent of Fiona Mozley’s Elmet and possesses the same sense of elemental wonder at the natural world and humanity’s place in it, especially when compared to the morally impoverishing demands of late capitalism. It might perhaps be too early (or too idealistic) to hope that both novels represent a new sense of communal anger and resistance in a UK literary scene that’s been too long dominated by a solipsistic sense of individuality and narcissism.
But like Elmet, the novel contains an inexorable sense of dread in the unfolding of its narrative. From fairly early on, it’s clear that there is going to be no happy ending for Terry and his friends and Cunnell seems to share Mozley’s sense of bleak nihilism. Nevertheless, this is a vital and haunting read and one that can’t come too highly recommended.
Excellent read, gives a real insight into the idea of living on a boat through the seasons through the eyes of a group of people that are looking to escape from a personal tragedy or just life itself. Add property developers and rich art gallery owners into the mix and the plot starts to heat up. Altogether a great read with a sense of foreboding that builds to the end.
Long after I closed this book, I'm still thinking about it. I love stories about artists (real or imagined). The writing style is very spare, with abbreviated sentences and phrases. But the sentences are beautifully observed, as they would be by an artist who encounters the world visually.
Cunnell employed an experimental approach to writing this novel, short yet pungent sentences which served well to how the story was told (and the character in which was telling it).
It was hard to get into, but it is worth digging into the core of this book as it is spectacular and so alive on the pages.
I rated it 3 stars as I think due to the way it was written there were moments and characters that got lost within the writing style - I sometimes struggled with knowing who was who and what they did when. I think this is a book I could see myself coming back to and re-reading in a year or two because the plot line is electric and the protagonist (and other significant characters) are easy to root for.
Its sharp and mesmerizing, if you enjoy a book that highlights the relationships between people, land, money and all the things we hide from, then this novel is for you!
Perhaps I am naive but I wanted to believe that humanity, kindness and community would bring about some good for Terry Godden and the people of his small island. I suppose that's what I need out of what I read these days, even though I am well aware that it is sadly not the way the world seems to work.
I'd be interested in reading other works by Cunnell to understand whether the unique, almost poetic, stream of consciousness prose of this book is characteristic of his work or should be attributed to Terry as a character, as this was written in first person.
I found this book hard to follow due to the writing style, intermittently referring to characters by different names and characteristics and the sometimes odd speech. Despite that, I found aspects of it very affecting or moving and there's an underlying sadness and quiet rage that makes for an interesting story. I found the ending both dramatic and "nothingy" and think the pacing didn't quite work throughout.
Honestly I can see why this book has such mixed reviews and a low rating. Read this as a pallet cleanser, but found myself feeling a bit slumpy at points during my time with this. I'm a little disappointed and confused by the ending, so I may end up rereading it, (the ending at least) but at the same time I'm not going to force myself to. There were only a few characters I cared for, one being a dog. The other - spoilers - dies.
This book is drawn from Cunnell's real life experiences. It is a joy to read once you get used to his style of writing, lots of short sentences that somehow seem appropriate . Thoroughly enjoyable novel.
Thought I was going to love this book. Some of it was great, and the artistic descriptions were amazing. But got very confusing to follow at times so it wasn’t quite what I’d hoped it would be.
A really lovely book, which felt incredibly true to life, whilst also feeling like walking through a foggy dream as the seasons change on the boat. The descriptions paint like art, and you could almost feel the characters wrapping you up in blankets when you were cold. Took a hot minute to get into though, as the sentences were so short in the first 20 or so pages, and the lack of quotation marks threw me for a loop a little.
Fascinating characters, an experimental writing and an astute critique of gentrification, land speculation. A tad too ambitious in style but an strong story line and ending.