At its very core Angela Young's, Speaking of Love, is about the things we don't say to each other and what happens when they get stuck deep inside us. The novel is also about mental illness, schizophrenia to be exact, and how it wreaks havoc on families. I first came across this book via Simon. I always keep an eye on the books that get added to his "50 Books You Must Read, but May Not Have Heard About" list. I was curious when this one popped up last Fall, and just recently got around to ordering a copy (free delivery via The Book Depository, as I don't think it's yet available in the US). Serendipitously it was also chosen as Cornflower's next book group read. For once the stars were aligned, and I hope to join in on the discussion today (Angela Young will be there, and as I was reading I had many questions, though many were answered the further I got into the novel), as I've missed all her prior book selections.
The story is very cleverly told by three narrators; Iris, her daughter Vivie, and Vivie's childhood friend, Matthew. I'm always impressed when an author can tell the story of nearly a lifetime (or at least the most significant events of a lifetime) over the course of only a few days (the book is broken into four sections/days) and from various vantage points. This doesn't always work, but it worked well here. At the beginning all is normal, or nearly so. At least you think so. But as each narrator adds a bit of the story you begin to see that things are not normal at all. Iris is a gifted storyteller, a talent passed down from her mother. I'm not entirely sure what provoked her descent into madness, but stories helped bring her out of it and keep her firmly grounded after her illness. In between each section of the book is a story, a fairy tale really, and they shed light on the characters and narrative.
Vivie is the result of an impetuous affair that Iris has with a poet. She thought their love was real and forever, but Kit had other ideas. Left alone to raise her daughter with little help, only the support of kindly neighbors, it doesn't take long before Iris starts losing herself. Imagine being a young child left alone with a mother who can barely take care of herself let alone a child. The first time Iris is taken away to an institution, Vivie and her friend Matthew think they can make things right, but after a disastrous attempt at helping her mother, Vivie is crushed. Eventually she and Iris will become estranged, a wedge driven firmly between mother and daughter. The repercussions of Iris's illness will be felt further afield, too, as Vivie loses contact with her best friend as well. Vivie will carry around this baggage with her and not surprisingly it will effect her relationships and work in ways she never contemplated and finds life harder and harder to deal with.
I loved the way that storytelling was a theme in the novel and each narrator had his or her own story to tell. Each told his own history and the events worked up into a crescendo at the end when each story came together to complete the narrative--rather than the threads of a cord unraveling, in this case they came together. I only have the vaguest notions of what schizophrenia really means, and I didn't realize that it was such an important aspect of the novel. There were many aspects of the story that were surprising to me. Fitting together the different voices was a little like completing a puzzle, and each time I put together a chunk of it, I would feel like I was having a little epiphany. Although I was expecting the book to be good, I thought it was wonderfully creative the way Young handled such a delicate subject.
This is the fith book that Cornflower's book group has read. You can check out the list of books waiting in the wings on her right sidebar. It'll be interesting to see which book is chosen next. In the interim I need to pull out my copy of Dreaming in Cuban by Christina Garcia that the Slaves of Golconda will be reading later this month!