Mr Toppit - Charles Elton
Ever finished reading a book and wondering, when you reached the end, why you bothered?
Usually, with library books, if I'm not grabbed by the first third, I return it. I didn't pay for it, so why put myself through it? I think I kept hoping that this would get good, that something would happen, that a likeable character would appear. It wasn't to be.
I know I rarely do book reviews, usually because I read brain candy. I have changed this pattern in the last couple of months, deciding I need something to read slowly and pay attention to, something that makes me think. To quote my friend Conor, "I've always been quite superior about not watching television because it's so passive, but I've realised the books I was reading were no better." Maybe paraphrase is more accurate than quote, but that was the gist. So, I've taken to reading Worthy Books, interspersed with brain candy when required. I've been quite enjoying this re-engagement of my brain and have taken to devouring a wide range of thing - art history, psychology, classics etc.
I've written this before reading any other reviews, except the blurb below - I am going to have my little rant then go see what proper critics say. I picked the book up because I had absorbed the impression it had received good reviews and was going to become a Modern Classic or some such thing. It was clear that whatever label was applied to it, it would be Important and feature Capital Letters.
In brief (lifted from Amazon):
And out of the Darkwood Mr Toppit comes, and he comes not for you, or for me, but for all of us. When The Hayseed Chronicles, an obscure series of children's books, become world-famous millions of readers debate the significance of that enigmatic last line and the shadowy figure of Mr Toppit who dominates the books. The author, Arthur Hayman, an unsuccessful screenwriter mown down by a concrete truck in Soho, never reaps the benefits of the books' success. The legacy passes to his widow, Martha, and her children - the fragile Rachel, and Luke, reluctantly immortalised as Luke Hayseed, the central character of his father's books. But others want their share, particularly Laurie, the overweight stranger from California, who comforts Arthur as he lies dying, and has a mysterious aganda of her own that changes all their lives. For buried deep in the books lie secrets which threaten to be revealed as the family begins to crumble under the heavy burden of their inheritance. Spanning several decades, from the heyday of the British film industry after the war to the cut-throat world of show business in Los Angeles, Mr Toppit is a riveting tale of the unexpected effects of sudden fame and fortune. Not since Jonathan Coe's What a Carve Up! has a novel managed to capture a family and a society to such wonderfully funny and painful effect.
I can't say the writing was awful, neither can I say it was particularly beautiful. I didn't find it amusing in the slightest, and am unsure where the "wonderfully funny" bits are. The family are dysfunctional, their friends are mostly awful, Laurie's character development from door mat to independent woman of means with a stellar career is rather the adaptation of a new mask, rather than any true development. There was a moment when I thought there was going to be some development of an interesting subtexts about codes and masks but it was a false trail.
Ironically, Mr Toppit plays the same role in relation to The Hayseed Chronicles that poor under-developed, detached and dull Luke does - the lacklusture, terribly ordinary child of someone quite brilliant. I think I kept reading in the hope because some of the glamour of the mythical Hayseed books rubs off onto Elton's book. It's as the buzz and mystery and intrigue of the Hayseed books rubs off onto the reader and one keeps ploughing through this depressing novel in a hope that there will be an answer, there will be some fantastic reveal. Nope.
Okay - now to read the official reviews and find out that it is a brilliant piece of art and I just didn't get it.
****
Oh, now *this* makes it a little more interesting, . "My father had got to where he was by climbing on my infant shoulders," wrote the grown-up Christopher Robin Milne .
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2009/feb/01/mr-toppit-review
However, both the Guardian and the Observer thought it was a good idea but shallow and poorly realised. Amazon reviews also quite disappointed, and "beware the hype" seems to be a common theme. Good to know that if there was something major to miss about this book, I wasn't the only one to miss it.
Usually, with library books, if I'm not grabbed by the first third, I return it. I didn't pay for it, so why put myself through it? I think I kept hoping that this would get good, that something would happen, that a likeable character would appear. It wasn't to be.
I know I rarely do book reviews, usually because I read brain candy. I have changed this pattern in the last couple of months, deciding I need something to read slowly and pay attention to, something that makes me think. To quote my friend Conor, "I've always been quite superior about not watching television because it's so passive, but I've realised the books I was reading were no better." Maybe paraphrase is more accurate than quote, but that was the gist. So, I've taken to reading Worthy Books, interspersed with brain candy when required. I've been quite enjoying this re-engagement of my brain and have taken to devouring a wide range of thing - art history, psychology, classics etc.
I've written this before reading any other reviews, except the blurb below - I am going to have my little rant then go see what proper critics say. I picked the book up because I had absorbed the impression it had received good reviews and was going to become a Modern Classic or some such thing. It was clear that whatever label was applied to it, it would be Important and feature Capital Letters.
In brief (lifted from Amazon):
And out of the Darkwood Mr Toppit comes, and he comes not for you, or for me, but for all of us. When The Hayseed Chronicles, an obscure series of children's books, become world-famous millions of readers debate the significance of that enigmatic last line and the shadowy figure of Mr Toppit who dominates the books. The author, Arthur Hayman, an unsuccessful screenwriter mown down by a concrete truck in Soho, never reaps the benefits of the books' success. The legacy passes to his widow, Martha, and her children - the fragile Rachel, and Luke, reluctantly immortalised as Luke Hayseed, the central character of his father's books. But others want their share, particularly Laurie, the overweight stranger from California, who comforts Arthur as he lies dying, and has a mysterious aganda of her own that changes all their lives. For buried deep in the books lie secrets which threaten to be revealed as the family begins to crumble under the heavy burden of their inheritance. Spanning several decades, from the heyday of the British film industry after the war to the cut-throat world of show business in Los Angeles, Mr Toppit is a riveting tale of the unexpected effects of sudden fame and fortune. Not since Jonathan Coe's What a Carve Up! has a novel managed to capture a family and a society to such wonderfully funny and painful effect.
I can't say the writing was awful, neither can I say it was particularly beautiful. I didn't find it amusing in the slightest, and am unsure where the "wonderfully funny" bits are. The family are dysfunctional, their friends are mostly awful, Laurie's character development from door mat to independent woman of means with a stellar career is rather the adaptation of a new mask, rather than any true development. There was a moment when I thought there was going to be some development of an interesting subtexts about codes and masks but it was a false trail.
Ironically, Mr Toppit plays the same role in relation to The Hayseed Chronicles that poor under-developed, detached and dull Luke does - the lacklusture, terribly ordinary child of someone quite brilliant. I think I kept reading in the hope because some of the glamour of the mythical Hayseed books rubs off onto Elton's book. It's as the buzz and mystery and intrigue of the Hayseed books rubs off onto the reader and one keeps ploughing through this depressing novel in a hope that there will be an answer, there will be some fantastic reveal. Nope.
Okay - now to read the official reviews and find out that it is a brilliant piece of art and I just didn't get it.
****
Oh, now *this* makes it a little more interesting, . "My father had got to where he was by climbing on my infant shoulders," wrote the grown-up Christopher Robin Milne .
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2009/feb/01/mr-toppit-review
However, both the Guardian and the Observer thought it was a good idea but shallow and poorly realised. Amazon reviews also quite disappointed, and "beware the hype" seems to be a common theme. Good to know that if there was something major to miss about this book, I wasn't the only one to miss it.