The Mookse and the Gripes discussion

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The Lesser Bohemians
The Goldsmiths Prize
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2016 Goldsmiths Shortlist: The Lesser Bohemians, by Eimear McBride
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This is an often harrowing story with some sexually explicit scenes (quite a few of these, actually). Some of it put me in mind of A Little Life. McBride's writing style seems very suited to sexual intimacy.
I liked this a lot. This surprised me, given my feelings about her first book - I was all prepared to write a scathing review and feeling exactly the opposite about it has left me just a little bit confused.

Good to hear. I am summoning the courage to start and you may have given me the boost I need.

A Girl is a Half Formed Thing is one of the very few books in my life I have started and failed to finish. I found it unreadable.
However 75% of the way through Lesser Bohemians and like you have found it far more engaging than I expected.
Interestingly though I enjoyed the more conventional parts of the book whereas looking at reviews by fans of the first book this is what they found the weakest this time.
https://www.theguardian.com/books/201...
http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-ent...
I also found that the way to enjoy the book (and which I now wonder if I should try on A Girl is a Half Formed Thing) is to allow the text to wash over you as a stream of consciousness rather than to be analysed or re-read.

I completely agree. I found it best to read it aloud (well, aloud in my head, if that makes sense) and to let it work by building impressions rather than making perfect sense. Maybe that's where I went wrong on the first book!
I actually found the shift from the broken, scattered structure to the slightly more conventional narrative really helped with the story telling. Difficult to say much without spoilers, but the emotional journey the two main characters go on seems to suit a change in narrative voice. I also think she writes dialogue well even if I think the middle section was perhaps a bit too long.
The scene before the closing (very short) chapter was a bit controversial for me - interested to know what others think. No spoilers here, though. I liked where the story got to but wasn't sure that needed to be there.

With The Wake from the 2014 list, it definitely made sense to read it aloud. My then 7 year old daughter actually couldn't see why I thought it was hard to read, when I showed it to her, as vocalising new words was a more recent skill for her.
But with this one - albeit only 35 pages in - some of it simply doesn't seem to make that much sense - so I guess I agree with the second half of the sentence more than the first. And the associated issue, for me, is that it felt like word choice wasn't that important to her given her style.
So, initial impression is this will slot in 5th out of 6 - there are 4 others than manage to be innovative without needing to be quite so impenetrable/random.
But may still end up a 4 star or high 3 star book that I will be glad I've read and still better than 4 or 5 of the Booker list.

I have to admit that, even though I ended up liking it a lot, I did think I'd had enough of the style at a couple of points. But somehow, it rescued itself (at least, for me, it did).

I have to admit that, even though I ended up liking it a lot, I did think I'd had enough of the style at a couple of points. But somehow, it rescued itself (at leas..."
Although I think you have it below Hot Milk and Solar Bones in your rankings?

I'm debating where Solar Bones should end up. Both that and this, for my taste, got a bit flabby in the middle (I know how they feel!), so it's a close call. I really enjoyed reading "Like a mule...", but I've rated it lower because I don't see it fitting with the aims of the prize so well. If ratings were based on pure enjoyment of reading, "Like a mule..." would jump a few places. I'm about one third into Martin John and I think it has to rate highly on the basis of what the prize is about, but I'll reserve judgment on the pleasure side of things until I've finished it!

It's called Transit!
Neil wrote: " I'm about one third into Martin John and I think it has to rate highly on the basis of what the prize is about, but I'll reserve judgment on the pleasure side of things until I've finished it! "
My main issue with Martin John, which I liked a lot, was that it scored too highly on the pleasure side of things, which disturbed be rather given the subject matter.

A Girl is a Half Formed Thing is one of the very few books in my life I have started and failed to finish. I found it unreadable.
However 75% of the way ..."
I am currently reading A Girl is a Half Formed Thing and while I initially had some problems with it I'm now actually really enjoying it and I do find that I have just let it wash over me and not get too caught up in the sentence structure. I do admit though at about 10% my thought was "this novel is a half formed thing"


....
The scene before the closing (very short) chapter was a bit controversial for me - interested to know what others think. No spoilers here, though. I liked where the story got to but wasn't sure that needed to be there. "
Would be interested if you could expand on both of the above, and no need to worry about spoilers. We made a forum decision that we wouldn't get too hung on avoiding spoilers, and this prize is about as spoiler-proof as you can get (see Solar Bones).

It's an impression rather than a scientifically deduced fact, but the book had 3 different narrative styles for me. There was the broken, staccato, almost jumbled style as in her previous book (although more poetic in this one, I thought), there was the dialogue and there was a more "normal" writing style. By "normal", I don't mean exactly like other books: it is still clearly McBride, but it has more of a flow. And I saw these styles in different bits of the book. At the start, Eily was unsettled and in a turbulent relationship (and there was lots of sex and drugs). The broken structure suited this instability and insecurity, I thought. The long (perhaps too long?) middle bit about Stephen's childhood and early adulthood was mostly dialogue. Apart from it being long, I thought she wrote dialogue really well. It is noticeable less broken than the text that precedes it, but it still jumps around exactly like any conversation, especially between people who know each other well. Then, after Stephen's revelation, there is a mixture of trauma and a gradual settling into a more comfortable and secure relationship. I liked the way the text settled down at the same time and felt more natural to read. As I say, it's just an impression, but it seemed to suit what was happening to the characaters.
With reference to the final scene, and here comes the spoiler, I am talking about the oral sex scene at the end of the main story. I understand the point is that she was unable to do this earlier in the story and it now illustrates that she has given herself to him. But I couldn't help thinking that if a man had written that scene he might be accused of misogyny or similar. I'd be really interested in a woman's view on that. I understand why it was there, I just wasn't sure about it.

It's an impression rather than a scientifically deduced fact, but the book had 3 different narrative styles for me. There was the broken, staccato, ..."
Thanks
Very helpful
On the switch in styles it is indeed quite marked, particularly when the dialogue starts. My initial impression was rather negative, and I wondered if her courage/writing ability had let her down when it came to conveying more specific facts of what Stephen (*) had suffered. But you've made me consider it in a different and more positive light (Gumble's Yard made a similar point to me).
Although on the style at the back end I wasn't sure if I had just got more used to it so it seems more settled/natural.
And I can see your point re the final scene. I'd agree it seems designed to show that he has helped her overcome her trauma, but it does seem a rather odd "trauma" to "help" someone overcome.
* This is the 2nd book on the shortlist (Transit the other) to use the device of withholding the key character's name(s) until late on in the novel. There are other stylistic similarities as well amongst the books. Much as I love the Goldsmiths, being Devil's advocate one could argue that there are boxes that must be ticked in the same way as you can't get a Michelin star without amuse-bouches.



But to confirm your point about the change in style, McBride herself has said:
"With The Lesser Bohemians, as with A Girl is a Half-formed Thing before it, I just sat down and began putting words on the page. There was no plan for how it would be written or even what it would be about. Both books grew from nothing. I was always a little surprised by the opinion that the style couldn’t work in other contexts. It seemed perfectly adaptable to me and that whatever uniqueness it possessed related to its symbiosis with the subject matter. I thought that, as long as I could allow it to evolve in line with different characters living out their experiences in different times and places, it could remain a useful tool. Girl is very much a closed circuit while The Lesser Bohemians isn’t. It has two central characters which meant the style had to change and open as the story progressed and the relationship required a deeper level of interaction between them."
Source: http://www.foyles.co.uk/eimear-mcbride
This is also an excellent review of the novel http://www.lrb.co.uk/v38/n18/jacqueli...

As to the final oral sex scene, it was a bit disturbing also, although I did understand the underlying necessity for it. Regardless, I didn't ever really 'enjoy' this and have placed it sixth in my rankings, until something even less impressive knocks it higher!

More like a 1.5, but I'm feeling generous - and any novel that ends with a graphic blow-by-blow (sorry!) description of fellatio (complete with swallowing!), deserves an extra half-star! I almost bailed on this during the first 30 or so pages, however, since the stream of consciousness choppy enigmatic style (along with the British colloquialisms and references that had no resonance for this Yank), just wasn't doing it for me.
Although the story itself got better thereafter, and thankfully the author more or less abandoned the gobbledygook after the first 100 pages, I can't say I enjoyed this much - although I have some grudging admiration for it anyway. It actually should have been entitled 'Sex, Drugs, Tears and Vomit', since those seem to be the major themes ... and it often veers perilously close to soap opera territory, especially that treacle-y ending, with the two lovers gazing longingly from a hillside onto twilit London (AFTER aforementioned fellatio, that is), which unfortunately reminded me of the even more dreadful 'Serious Sweet'. Gag me.
Another of my disappointments is that from the précis, I was expecting a lot more about the heroine's drama school experiences (McBride herself matriculated at The Drama Centre at 17, so one would expect this to be at least semi-autobiographical). But apart from a few brief mentions, the plot mainly concerns her affair with an equally fucked-up older actor, with both of them suffering from clichéd (danger: semi-spoilerish-ness ahead) childhood physical and sexual abuse.
Anyway, I'm not entirely sorry I read this one, considering McBride's debut novel seems even more off-putting, but I don't expect to find it in my best of the year pile ... or remember much about it in a week's time.
PS Does ANYONE think this relationship has a chance in hell of succeeding long-term? I'd say the chances are about as good as a certain GOP candidate winning our current American presidential election! :-)

More like a 1.5, but I'm feeling generous - and any novel that ends with a graphic blow-by-blow (sorry!) description of fellatio (complete with swallowing!), deserves an extra ha..."
I would agree that the relationship has almost zero chance of surviving, but in a way that justifies the otherwise rather treacle-y ending.


Yep, you are absolutely correct, mea culpa - it's on p. 230: "Sometimes people get so upset so nothing LESS than two years ago, alright?" ... and so I've deleted it from my review.
My confusion came from the fact that whenever I've taught or seen the exercise done, the idea is to be able to access clear memories, hence the caution to use something in the more recent past (as unless one is remembering something horribly traumatic, memories tend to be extremely vague after a few years). But apparently here the idea is NOT to summon anything too upsetting - which makes me question even further the instructions. AND, to be even a bit MORE curmudgeonly, I doubt anyone COULD remember something from the age of five as adroitly as Eily seems to! :-)

In return, I'm astonished anyone could award this 5 stars! But then you loved the equally abysmal soap opera-ish 'Serious Sweet', so... no accounting for taste! (I'm including my own in that, BTW!) :-)


Indeed, Ladbrokes has DNSWHN as the favorite to win at 2/1! And it was # 2 in my rankings, behind 'Hot Milk'. So there ya go!

Tempted to put some serious money on The Sellout as an emotional hedge (wish I had done that with Dylan).


I've yet to brave Girl is a Half Formed Thing but there is already a recording of her reading that so I'm now planning to get the book and the CD and listen and read simultaneously.


But I would still say worth getting the CD. Unlike most authors (certainly 9 of the other 10 on the Booker and Goldsmiths, Moshfegh the honourable exception) her reading adds a lot to the book.

If yesterday's Goldsmiths shortlist gathering awarded the prize for the quality of the reading, and its effect in attracting interest in the book (the point of the exercise) then Eimeer McBride wins at a canter.
A couple of the candidates read very poorly though Goldsmiths added to the pressure by positioning the speakers at a lecturn whose light source was pitiful. Some of the authors were forced to contort themselves in their efforts to read out their passage (the Royal Festival Hall Booker was also far from impeccable on the physical layout)

True! Although actually reading from a paperback book is never really an easy exercise - they could have done with an autocue.
Although I'd have to give the quality of reading award to Sarah Ladipo Manyika for her video'd contribution, complete with improvised dialogue not in the book. Although I was a tad uneasy with the comedy Palestinian accent.



Eimear McBride rightly won plaudits for her debut novel A Girl Is A Half Formed Thing. Written in stream of consciousness, it had a Joycean quality to it.
The Lesser Bohemians looks to be a bit of an encore, employing the same stream of consciousness approach. This time, we meet a young woman who has come across the water to study drama in London in the mid 1990s. She discovers bedsits, houseshares, squats, seedy pubs and sex. Oh yes, there's plenty of sex. In fact, the first half of the novel is basically a stream of consciousness narrative of sex with a 40-something minor celebrity actor who still lives in a bedsit. Everything else is pretty much filler - it's all about the on-off, up-down, and in-out-in-out relationship of this pair.
Then, at the halfway mark, we have a change of pace and change of narrative style. The actor tells our heroine all about his long and sad life to that point. Whilst he may latterly have found some success, it came on the back of a miserable childhood, broken relationships, alcohol and drugs. He is a lonely man with a car-wreck of a personal life.
And then, three quarters of the way through, we get back to the stream of consciousness narrative, this time punctuated liberally by the use of the two characters' names that have been so consciously withheld up to that point. Is this supposed to be a sign that the pair accept one another as people now, not simply as bodies?
Overall, the setting is (intentionally) dreary and the couple are not scintillating. That makes the novel a bit of a trudge and whilst the actor's soliloquy provides welcome and fast-reading relief from what has started to become quite monotonous, it nevertheless breaks a spell. Indeed, the spell is broken so completely that the reader's heart sinks when we get back to the student's narrative.
Certainly, The Lesser Bohemians bursts any misconceptions that actors live glamorous lives. We see brief and soulless periods of feast interspersed with long stretches of famine. The era is captured well and the world doesn't feel a million miles away from that depicted in The Crying Game - people living in Bohemian squalor in the mistaken belief that it is glamour. There is much to commend The Lesser Bohemians, but I do wish the pacing had been a bit different, and perhaps if the actor's story had not come out in a giant single splurge in the middle but been built up more gradually. And generally, if the whole thing had been shorter...
***00

I also found the dissonant pacing a list offputting, but interesting that we also had opposite views above. McBride herself has, I think, suggested that change of tone (eg use of names) in the last quarter is indeed intended to signal them moving on.
She remains though, I think, a very interesting writer.

No one has mentioned the occasional interjections in smaller font. Are these perhaps deeper thoughts that don't quite reach the surface?

I enjoyed LB very much, and came to it having not read, nor read reviews, of any Eimear McBride work including “Girl is a Half Formed Thing”. So my impressions are unaffected by the second novel syndrome, and the broadly favourable reception that Half Formed Girl has received.
I have three separate but distinct reflections on LB.
1. This is a story in which childhood sexual abuse is the significant theme. There seemed to me to be so many relevant comparisons with Hanya Yanagihara’s “A Little Life”. Both share unequivocal descriptions of, unusually, male physical abuse. In both books the physical importance of sex becomes secondary to deeper, more complicated, emotional responses, to sex and to gender.
2. LB is a book of two almost distinct parts. Eilis dominates the first half, and Stephen the second. Both life stories are well described, but I felt an absence of true interaction between the two of them.
3. Streams of consciousness. Significant parts of LB are written in this style. Eimear McBride openly acknowledges her epiphany as a writer after reading James Joyce. So LB enables her to explore her consciousness style. I really liked this, and LB is relatively soft way to get into this writing style (which is not easy for the occasional reader). LB is somewhat more accessible than, say, Will Self (or, indeed, Joyce).
My main criticism of LB would be the “happy” ending. Life is complicated, and flawed, and inconsistent, and duplicitous, and this came out in the Camden Town and Britain of the 1980’s and 1990’s as described. In the last few pages of the book there was just too much personal and emotional reconciliation when set against the dysfunction described in LB.
I think LB does satisfy the Goldsmiths designation for fiction that breaks the mould or extends the possibilities of the novel form, and it’s the strongest contender of this year’s short list for me so far.

"My main criticism of YB would be the “happy” ending. Life is complicated, and flawed, and inconsistent, and duplicitous, and this came out in the Camden Town and Britain of the 1980’s and 1990’s as described. In the last few pages of the book there was just too much personal and emotional reconciliation when set against the dysfunction described in YB."
Absolutely agree and this is the one serious weak point in a largely excellent novel. The same issue blights A.M. Homes's otherwise excellent 'May We Be Forgiven'.

Have to agree, Ang! Didn't get on with A Little Life at all...

https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...?

http://www.newstatesman.com/culture/b...
“From a few male critics I heard the sound of petrified gonads retracting in distaste"
Books mentioned in this topic
The Wake (other topics)A Girl Is a Half-Formed Thing (other topics)
A Girl Is a Half-Formed Thing (other topics)
A Little Life (other topics)
2016
320 pp
Upon her arrival in London, an 18-year-old Irish girl begins anew as a drama student, with all the hopes of any young actress searching for the fame she’s always dreamed of. She struggles to fit in—she’s young and unexotic, a naive new girl—but soon she forges friendships and finds a place for herself in the big city.
Then she meets an attractive older man. He’s an established actor, 20 years older, and the inevitable clamorous relationship that ensues is one that will change her forever.
A redemptive, captivating story of passion and innocence set across the bedsits of mid-1990s London, McBride holds new love under her fierce gaze, giving us all a chance to remember what it’s like to fall hard for another.