Callum Saunders 05 December 2010
Along with the rhythmic opening stanzas, 'C's nomination for the Booker Prize confirms that this is a unique piece of fiction that challenges conventions of the contemporary novel. 'C' is the story of Serge Carrefax and his short life; yet in so many ways, not about that at all.
Set in England at the turn of the twentieth century, Serge is born into a world where radio technology is coming to the fore and starting to shape a new world. As radio technology matures, so too does Serge and indeed, the novel. We follow Serge through childhood at his parent's school for the deaf, onto a clinic in Europe and then to wartime France, where Serge is a pilot. Further events see him indulging in a hedonistic lifestyle in London, before finally moving to work in communications in Egypt.
The fabric that weaves all of these events together, and indeed that of the novel, is the allegory of radio – communications; transmissions; interrelation; connectivity; something that Serge is aware of with almost crippling effect. And it's this that is 'C's real focus, rather than the story of a character who is, in reality, rather anonymous.
The beauty of the book lays in this literary aspect. Readers of the contemporary novel are used to being led down a linear path – a journey from initial question to ultimate answer, resolution, appeasement. But 'C' seems to delight in the telling of the tale, rather than the actual tale that is being told: with 'C', the beauty lies not in what is 'going' to happen; but, rather, what 'is' happening – we are being shown a world through a person's eyes – not that person.
The entire novel is written through Serge's eyes; yet he remains an anonymous character that we know little about. Rather then detracting from the novel's ability 'as a story', this style emphasises the novel's poignance: as the reader, we are immediately 'in' Serge's shoes, looking out at this changing world through 'his' eyes – yet McCarthy paints this picture so subtly, that the reader is unaware that, in fact, it is us looking out at the world around us.
The author's literary ability is also clearly evident in this captivating and absorbing book. Poetic prose is sown through the novel akin to the omnipresent radio waves alluded to; yet unlike authors attempting similar effects, this is not at the cost of 'readability'.
In summary, if you are looking to invest in a novel – and by that, I mean engage with a novel whose beauty lies in being 'read', as opposed to 'telling a story', then 'C' is perhaps one of the most rewarding books of recent times. Clever; poetic; skilful; haunting; beautiful and thought-provoking, 'C' is a modern classic that challenges the reader to question their perception of what 'the novel' really is.
And that, surely, is what good literature is all about.