By Battersea Bridge, By Janet Davey

The pains of real life; and the difficult art of keeping afloat

Emma Hagestadt
Thursday 30 May 2013 10:06 EDT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

One of the recurring themes of Janet Davey's fiction is how major crises are routinely absorbed into everyday life without fanfare or resolution. The art of keeping afloat also lies at the heart of her fourth novel – a subtle and beautifully written book that succeeds at the difficult task of capturing how real life actually feels.

Anita Mostyn, the novel's unformed heroine, seems to be marking time until some hurt subsides. She may be in her mid-thirties, but she is still consumed by memories of a scratchy but privileged childhood.

Brought up by driven parents to feel second-rate to her brothers, she imagines that if they were to form a still life, then Barney and Mark would be "the perfect apples in the bowl", while she'd be "one of those splashes of paint you peer at, wondering, is it a leaf, a shadow on the tablecloth, a mistake?"

Anita's pedigree might be grand; her adult ambitions are decidedly small-scale. Living in a small flat just off Chelsea's Gunter Grove, Anita has worked in bars and galleries and gone along with a series of love affairs, largely out of politeness. But it's her quietly toxic relationship with Nick Halsey, a friend of her brother Mark, that has long poisoned her already fragile sense of self-worth.

As ever, Davey evades conventional time scales and narrative payoffs. Throughout the novel, opportunities are missed, romance is thwarted and characters depart on journeys that only ever prove incidental to their real quests. Early on in the book, Anita is approached by Laurence, an entrepreneur and unlovely admirer, who flies her out to Bulgaria to scout for holiday properties.

This memorable London novel manages to feel both classic and freshly –minted. There might be references to skinny jeans and lattes, but her portrait of the humourless Mostyn clan is redolent of another age. While Anita fights to resurface, Davey implies that she might be the one lucky enough to have got away. But as in real life, there are no tidy endings on hand as Anita contines to make for theshore.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in