Prentis, senior clerk in the 'dead crimes' department of police archives, is becoming confused. Alienated from his wife and children, and obsessed by his father, a wartime hero now the mute inmate of a mental hospital, Prentis feels unsettled as his boss, Mr Quinn, turns his investigation towards him - and his father.
Graham Colin Swift FRSL (born May 4, 1949) is an English author. He was born in London, England and educated at Dulwich College, London, Queens' College, Cambridge, and later the University of York. He was a friend of Ted Hughes.
Some of his works have been made into films, including Last Orders, which starred Michael Caine and Bob Hoskins and Waterland which starred Jeremy Irons. Last Orders was a joint winner of the 1996 James Tait Black Memorial Prize for fiction and a mildly controversial winner of the Booker Prize in 1996, owing to the superficial similarities in plot to William Faulkner's As I Lay Dying. Waterland was set in The Fens; it is a novel of landscape, history and family, and is often cited as one of the outstanding post-war British novels and has been a set text on the English Literature syllabus in British schools.
This grew on me. To start with, I found it disconcerting, even difficult - the first person POV being that of an unlikeable man, a bully, aware that he is being ghastly to his wife and children but seemingly unable/unwilling to do anything about it. The nature of his work also made for an oppressive atmosphere that persisted for the majority of this novel and made it less than pleasant to read.
But it was very impressively written, and for all the sense that I didn't like this man, I was compelled to read on and find out the reasons, the hidden aspects, the destination where all the stumbling was towards. It reminded me of Ian McEwan in a sense, the feeling that there was a great threatening problem, that misunderstandings and human flaws can make for dark absorbing intelligent narratives.
I am not often fond of great thumping masterpieces. Give me instead the compact, well-thumbed small favourites; the books that, like Goldilock’s third bowl of porridge, are just right. This novel is one of them. The imaginative alignment of the story is spot-on, the plot tight but unobtrusive, the main character flawed but entirely human.
Yet again I was right to ignore the critical reviews that some of Swift's novels get. I like him, and I liked this - I need to follow my own reading instincts. The plot was secondary for me, what I loved was the way he gets beneath the skin of his characters - similar to McEwan - and makes for quality time spent in their company. Not his best perhaps, but still good.
Should some secrets remain secrets? Can you live with keeping them secret? The main protag of the story works in the 'dead crimes' department under the somewhat tyrannical overview of his boss. Our 'hero' Prentis's home life grows increasingly strained as we seen his relationship with his wife and boys gradually disintegrate, though it was never 'right' in the first place. His relationship with his mute and sick father who lives in a nursing home is another enigma. Prentis becomes obsessed with a book written by his war hero father and I could see why. It was a compelling interior tale of imprisonment and escape. Swift's novel is about relationships, telling the truth, living with your conscience, the power of secrets and a whole lot more. Tightly written with characters you never really get to know and understand, but that was somehow the point. How can we know anyone? I enjoyed it.
I got this secondhand a while ago, after reading "Last Orders", but somehow didn't get round to reading it before now. (My TBR shelves are numerous!)
It is a curious mix of the confessions of a sadist who bullies and ill-treats his wife and two young sons, who tells us that he tortured his pet hamster when he himself was a child, and frequent quotes from a memoir written by this man's father concerning his exploits as a spy in occupied France during the Second World War. In addition the narrator works in an arcane "dead crimes" department of the Metropolitan Police archives, where things are seldom what they seem and mysteries abound. But is the narrator in any way reliable?
I was certainly drawn into the story and kept on reading, but I am not sure that the character of the narrator really works. Of course we have only his word for it that by the end of the book he has become a changed man who has won back the trust of his family ...
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
An engaging read about Prentis, a married man working as an assistant in the police archives section. Prentis’s father is now in a nursing home, fully dependent and cannot recognize his son. Prentis’s father was a World War Two spy who wrote a book about his war activities that sold well in the 1950s. Prentis learns from his boss that there are written allegations questioning the facts in the war book written by Prentis’s father.
A compelling read about identity.
This book was first published in 1981, the author’s second novel.
I found this book v mediocre. The protagonist, Prentiss, is wholly unlikable - a chauvinist (chapter 11 really irked me) and quite sadistic. The writing style was strange in that the writer used too many commas at times, disrupting the natural flow of the novel. In the latter half of the book I was more interested in the extracts from Pretiss’ father’s book than the main plot.
How is character formed? What is paranoia and what is real?
So many times I was ready to give up on this book, but I am so glad I persevered.
The protagonist is almost entirely unlikeable. He is weak, bullying, abusive and paranoid. But just because you are paranoid, doesn't mean they aren't out to get you.
As a novel, it isn't without flaws, but the denouement is worth it.
This was a nasty little story with shades of the moral ambiguity of Camus' L'Etranger only this protagonist is a wife and child beater justifying his own abuse. Totally horrible but told with great craft.
Wow! I won’t forget this is hurry! Beautifully narrated by James Wilby. Sinister and compelling, I was glad when it was over even though I thought it was a fabulous and memorable book.
The main character was very unlikeable - a bully to his family & what would now be described as domestic violence. The storyline seemed to be about the impact of inter generational trauma & secrets. It won the Booker prize in 1981 but don’t think it would win anything today.
This is, to my mind, the weakest of Graham Swift's novels. Following his strikingly accomplished debut, The Sweet Shop Owner, this book promises much but suffers from trying to satisfy too many roles. On the one hand, it's a cramped, paranoid thriller set in a mysterious record office; on another, it's a meditation on identity and the relationship between fathers and sons. The difficulty comes in reconciling the two and, in this, Swift is only partially successful. Perhaps it would be churlish to criticise an author in his thirties embarking on his second novel for his inability to fuse two vastly different forms, but Shuttlecock is a victim of its creator's ambition. Swift would go on to write many better book-including the subsequent Waterland-but it would take him almost a quarter century to successfully use a work of ostensible genre fiction to convey a deeper meaning in The Light Of Day.
Any one wanting to investigate Shuttlecock will find a well-written book with a convincing main character which struggles to meet its intriguing premise. It probably suffers a little from having come out between two of the finest books of the late twentieth century but the likelihood is that, had Shuttlecock not been written by an author of Graham Swift's standing,it would be forgotten today.
The biggest pitfall of the book is, I think, its structure, a classic Nabokovian confession of a loquacious, grandiloquent, self-conscious monster riddled with appeals to the audience, placing readers as jurors. Once you make that particular structural choice, you set a bar rather high, and I don't think this novel ever reaches the expected level (although Swift's other novels might). While it did some interesting things with confessions within confessions, possibly setting up the extra level of tension between the readers' and the protagonist's judgment, it still fell a couple of inventive twists short of what I expected.
(Oh, and of course, the whole business of confessions is tightly wound up with the ways we read etc., partly because of the Nabokov factor, no doubt, but some of it - like references to pathetic fallacy - were extremely out of character for the protagonist.)
An oddity of a novel: a bullying father and husband fixated unhealthily on his employer, the mysterious Quinn, and his war hero father, is given the opportunity to discover whether that father was actually as heroic as he claimed or rather a traitor and liar. Is it better to know the whole truth regardless of consequences or should some secrets be left untouched? The narrator's decision, we are asked to believe, solves his marital and parental problems and elevates him to the powerful position previously occupied by Quinn.
A difficult one. I want to hate the lead character as he’s basically a bully and a coward. However, I thoroughly enjoyed almost every part of this story (apart from the hamster bit which I personally hated). I found the story engaging, despite not that much actually happening! I also didn’t expect the ending, of the connection between the three main themes of the book; his home life, his work life and his father. I’d definitely read this again.
See raamat meenutas väga Dostojevski "Ülestähendusi põranda alt", ainult et tegevus toimub 1970. aastate Londonis. Kuid muidu väga sarnane vaimne argiklaustrofoobsus. Organite perifeerses allüksuses töötav peategelane Prentis on üdini tšinovnik, vaat et rohkemgi oma lähedastega suheldes ja nende elu korraldades, kui tööl. See on tema haprat ego edasi pressiv põhiolemus. Prentis on ikka väga kuri ja halb inimene, kuigi erinevalt Dostoka peategelasest ta enda kohta üldse nii ei arva. Ei mingit enesereflektsiooni. Hoopis vastupidi. Süüdi ja halvad on ju ikka kõik teised.
Väiklaste despootide argielu on üsna tänuväärne materjal ilukirjanduse jaoks. (Päriselus on see muidugi üsna õudne asi, mida läbi elada...) Aga seda materjali peab oskama õigesti vormida. Ja kui pagana hästi on Swift seda selles enamvähem lühiromaani mõõtu romaanis teinud! Raamatu esimene kolmandik on üdini ängistav sissevaade peategelase ellu. Iga peatükk on nagu... no kuidas seda öelda - lugeja visatakse justkui paadilt merre ja ta siputab seal ja mõtleb, kuhu suunas nüüd õieti ujuma hakata, et kuhugi jõuda. Ja siis peatüki viimases lõigus või lauses tuleb haikala...
Pärast esimest kolmandikku tuleb järjest enam mängu peategelase hullaris olev isa, kes on kirjutanud kunagi raamatu, ja tekst hakkab keskenduma rohkem paranoidsetele tagasisideahelatele, mis peategelast nii kodus kui tööl ühtviisi endasse lõimivad ja sel moel kõik lõpuks kokku üheks suureks häbiväärsusest haisvaks mädamülkaks sulatab. Mõnes mõttes tundub peategelase enesekeskne piiratus täiesti ulmeline, ent samas on see kõik üdini ja viimseni usutav. Swift on ikka väga hoolikalt kompleksides meesterahva alateadvuse kõige räpasematest nurgatagustest ainese kokku otsinud... See isa ja tema raamatuga aset leidev on ka tore ("tore" muidugi jutumärkides ja samal ajal ilma), eksole, aga raamatu esimene pool meeldis mulle rohkem - see puhas õõv, et mida see Prentis järgmiseks välja mõtleb. Alateadvuse tumedast vaimsest elurikkusest pulbitsev tekst. Uhh! Swifti "Viimsed korraldused" meeldisid mulle väga nii paarkümmend aastat tagasi, ja nende põhjal tehtud film samuti. Ja ka "Vetemaa" oli võimas elamus, kuigi sedasorti romaanid mulle üldiselt üldse ei istu. Ent kuidagi olin ma tema kõige teravama teose toona kahe silma vahele jätnud. Aga nüüd on see viga parandatud.
I’ve come late to Graham Swift’s 1981 novel Shuttlecock. I’d bought it on paperback release when I was studying psychology with the Open University, as it was labelled ‘a psychological thriller’; but I never got round to reading it then.
The book is narrated in the first person by Prentiss who works as a senior clerk in the ‘dead crimes’ department of the police archives.
There’s a Kafkaesque tone to it, a dreamlike quality that lingers even after the last page is turned.
We’re not exactly sure of the narrator’s reliability regarding his observations and conclusions.
His boss is Quinn, who remains aloof and has a tendency to psychologically and verbally bully the office staff. Then Prentiss begins to realise that some files once requested by Quinn are never returned, while others are tampered with.
Prentiss is a bit of a bully himself, domineering towards his wife and hypercritical of his two sons, Martin and Peter. It is possible that this is relevant to his childhood. He makes twice weekly visits to his father in a mental institution, following the old man’s breakdown. Prentiss is obsessed about his father’s wartime memoire, Shuttlecock, about his spying exploits in France for SOE and his subsequent capture and torture. Gradually, Prentiss questions his father’s alleged bravery, perhaps recognising that he himself is a coward. But he finally plucks up the courage to confront Quinn about the missing files.
The narrative is riveting, despite the unappealing nature of Prentiss, and offers insightful parallels about father and son relationships. It is not all grim; there is humour to be found, notably his references to his sexual antics with his wife Marian, though nothing graphic. An editor might have pointed out the possible reader confusion of using two female character names beginning with the same letter, Marian (his wife with pert breasts) and Maureen (she with big breasts from the typing pool), but that’s of no real consequence.
This is not a thriller, but that dubious description is no fault of Swift but rather the publisher. Certainly it is suspenseful and continually intriguing with countless behavioural observations.
I’m not really sure what Swift was aiming to do with this short novel. It begins as an introspective first person narrative, written by a frustrated husband, father and civil servant and the reader is led to believe we will be looking at his life and the possible breakdown of his mental state. However the central character’s own father, now a totally non-communicative dementia sufferer, becomes equally central to the narrative, through the medium of a book he wrote about his exploits as a hero / spy in World War 2.
Prentis Junior accepts the fact that he is not made of heroic stuff, like his father, but bullies his wife and children into some sort of submission to him in a pathetic attempt to give himself some kudos, at least within his own small family circle. By a far-fetched coincidence Prentis is working in a secret section of the Civil Service, which has censorship rights over historic files. One of these appears to rather debunk the myth which has been built up around Prentis Senior.
Prentis Junior has to wrestle with his conscience and his immediate boss to decide whether the incriminating files should be destroyed. A rather disappointing novel from a writer I have previously thought of as excellent.
I read this book because I was researching books that were similar to my all-time favorite novel, Fowles "The Magus" and this was recommended.
I think I might've liked this novel better if I had read it without comparing it to my favorite (or any) book. It definitely stands on its own, but does not, in my opinion, compare favorably with "The Magus". That is not this book's fault; it's the fault of the person/site suggesting the similarities. Yet there ARE similarities so they weren't wrong.
This book just feels different. It's missing the first person narration that makes the reader feel like they're part of the action. Reading it in the 3rd person creates too much distance which de-personalizes the book; you don't have the relative comfort of an unreliable narrator when the book is told in the 3rd person. In "The Magus", the narrator is cut some slack for their poor actions because they can explain it away, at least to themselves (and us the reader). In the 3rd person narrative, thoughts are presented objectively so poor behavior like spouse or child abuse is horror that cannot be explained away.
Intellectually, i'd be curious to explore the intersection of the 2 disparate works, but enjoyment wise, this novel doesn't hold a candle to "The Magus"...
Many years ago when it wasn't really easy to get books in English over here in Germany, i was in a book shop in Bonn and found a paperback of Learning to Swim by Graham Swift. Short stories are a dying art and i really enjoyed them.
So when i saw this in a charity shop, i thought i'd give it a go. The blurb didn't really give much away, but the front announced that Swift won the Booker prize in 1996 for Last Orders and i had heard he is a literary writer, so why not risk a few pounds?)
I don't really know what to say about this. Prentis, the main protagonist, is thoroughly unlikeable. I found the description of how he had sex with his wife unnecessary and annoying. His children and wife were rather 2D characters, as was just about everyone else who got a mention.
The descriptons of his work, the files, the chats with his boss were painfully boring because there is no real idea of what his job actually is. And the ending was rushed and unsatisfactory.
So why finish reading the book when i clearly didn't like it? Well for one thing i did want to know if it would improve, and then i was too far in not to want to know the ending. And the writing is very clever. I don't think i'll hang on to it, someone else may enjoy it.
Even though it has only been a little more over two months ago since I finished Graham Swift's Shuttlecock, the only plausible thought that comes to mind goes along perfectly well with the "It was ok" two-star rating. In the process of reading this little novel, my head was only filled with frustration towards the main character and stress to finish it in time. In addition to this, another academic requirement took away the opportunity of enjoying the book as a whole: the composure of the book's difficult vocabulary made me as a reader search more for words, rather than anything else. Nevertheless, only the scenes in the Château stood out in the never-ending mess. It caused these pages to be flipped in a heartbeat, only to return to a story that had already lost my interest.
A very clever story that interweaves a family drama with a story written by the father of our narrator, Prentis. He was a spy in WW2 but was captured near the end of the war. But was this all true or not? The author writes about how truth is sometimes elusive, especially when someone has the power to distort it or hide it away. Again, I loved the conversational structure ("The small mammal house at Regent's Park Zoo. I can recommend it") as Prentis tries to make sense of his relationship with his family and the mystery that is his father.
I'm trying to read mix with some less-recently published literature. I loved Mothering Sunday and cant deny that some lines pack a punch but I really disliked the narrator in this. I am aware his behaviour to his wife is supposed to be unacceptable but it was nasty to read and that she didnt change things. My favourite parts were him visiting his Dad and his interactions with his sons. I was disinterested in his dad's old writing or the case with Quinn. I don't regret reading it but not convinced I got a lot out of it.
I listened to this and was impressed by the quality of the narrator's voice. I am never sure of how the experience of listening rather than reading affects my opinion. To my view the most interesting section was the reading of Shuttlecock, the journal written by the father of our protagonist , Prentice. The cruelty and mystery of his father's imprisonment and torture by the Germans in occupied France at the end of WW2 made for a powerful and suspenseful tale. Linking his father's incarceration to Prentice' work as an archivist in the Police Dept was a little too far- fetched for me.
Prentis is not a very likable character- a bully to his wife and children, rather spineless in his interactions with his overbearing boss and rather miserable in his low self- esteem. Nevertheless, as the plot unfolds he becomes a more sympathetic character as he interacts with his catatonic father and begins to delve into the mystery of what is going on at work. Like his other novels (Last Orders comes to mind in particular), Swift gradually reveals the whole plot and gives us insight into the human condition. A little odd but worth reading.
The main theme is one man's urge/desire to have power over another eg. relationship between Prentis (main character) & his sons, Prentis & Quinn, Prentis' father & his readers. Prentis, a very unlikable man who lives a controlled life, struggles with finding a way to deal with power. As the novel develops we learn that the ultimate power comes from language and when there is no faith in language you'll lose all power.
Het weten en het belang van het weten, dat is de kern van dit boek. Een aanrader dus? ’t Zal wel zijn. En dan heb ik het enkel nog maar over de inhoud terwijl ik tot slot de woorden van August Hans den Boef uit De Volkskrant over Waterland kan aanhalen, ik vervang alleen beide titels: “Vederbal is niet alleen een enerverende mengvorm van persoonlijke en sociale geschiedenis, de manier waarop Swift vertelt maakt de roman uiterst boeiend.”
Deftly interweaving, on the one hand, the protagonist’s struggle with the disempowerment of his work and family life and, on the other, a surprisingly gripping spy story, this is a novel about the concealment of truth and the power and redemption that this can bring. The spareness of Swift’s prose allows his deep understanding of human emotions to come to the fore, which something that I really like about his writing.