When We Were Romans

This is going to be the least helpful book post I've possibly ever written about a book that has readily earned a constellation of star ratings here for that extra special buzz factor. I can't describe this add-on je ne sais qoi thing, it's quite intangible but I know it when I read a book that has it.
It's a feeling that just surfaces as I read.
When We Were Romans by Matthew Kneale arrived a week or so ago and the first thing to mention is the book's unusual size.
It's tall and narrow. Usual width but about 2cms extra on the height and now I'm trying to think of a reason for that, perhaps there isn't one but I'd hate to think I'd missed something, like it's trying to be a lego brick or a brick out of the Coliseum or something clever like that.
That aside Lawrence and his little sister Jemima find themselves uprooted and off to a new life in Rome with their mother who has decided they must leave England. Life becomes a catalogue of sofa-surfing homelessness and uncertainty for the family, with all the hopes and anxieties of the children acted out in a city dominated by its history.Lawrence embraces that history with the schoolboy enthusiasm that he also reserves for his galaxies of information on the solar system.
As is my wont I didn't read any detailed reviews beforehand, just plunged straight in and this is ABSOLUTELY WHAT YOU MUST DO.
Don't read any reviews, ignore all those literary critics who dig deep and say "the underlying themes in this book are of course....it's not a book about this....it's a book about that..." just start reading because the gradual unfolding of events is part of the effect of the book.
Have no fear, you'll know what it's all been about by the end.
It was important for me to read seven year old Lawrence's first person narrative as if I was him and only with his degree of belief in what was happening and his understanding and interpretation of it all.
So you see there is so much I could wax lyrical about because there's so much more going on, but I'm sorry I just can't tell you. I couldn't bear to spoil the complete When We Were Romans experience for you.
The childish spelling was a high risk strategy in my mind and my initial thoughts were of the heart-sink variety, but it paid huge dividends and constantly worked to increase my immersion in the book.
I can't begin to imagine how young Matthew must have felt after a long day's writing and thinking like a seven year old. It's all pitch perfect so I expect he had to go off and play with his fort and toy soldiers for a while to just wind down and get out of character. Probably a bit of foot-stamping and sulking helped and a nice bowl of ice cream might have put everything right.
Hats off to Matthew Kneale who has pulled off something quite remarkable with this book and now I'm wondering what I may have missed in not reading English Passengers.
Now I'm going to be bold because the Booker approacheth and I have sensibly made not a single prediction about possible longlisters but I'm feeling really rash so I'm going to suggest two and there's going to be an almighty muddle and a mix-up if perchance they both make it but here goes....
When We Were Bad by Charlotte Mendelson
When We Were Romans by Matthew Kneale
And the caveat, even if they don't make it...after all who knows, some madness may have meant they weren't even entered, but for goodness sake read them anyway, oh yes and then read the literary critics or we'll be in terrible trouble again here in litblogland, and I'm off to get my hands on English Passengers.

Comments

[Harriet]

I picked up English Passengers in a charity shop on Saturday, gazed at it for ages, and then walked out without buying it. Now I'm really regretting it!

[Karen]

Just one of the many hugely impressive aspects of English Passengers was Matthew Kneale's ability to assume different "voices". It was quite stunning, so I'm not surprised to hear that he seems to have pulled that off again in this book. Shall add it to the list!

[Simon Smith]

I really enjoyed English Passengers and agree with Karen that the multiple voices are all impressively believable, individual and each has its own charm too. I was recently reminded of English Passengers (and Kate Grenville's The Secret River) in reading a rather obscure novel called Carpentaria by Alexis Wright. The thing that most excited me about Carpentaria is that Alexis Wright is an Australian aboriginal author writing with a beautiful, lyrical and authentic vernacular. Whilst English Passengers and The Secret River write aboriginal characters and into historical fiction, reflecting on their disgraceful treatment at the hands of white settlers, Alexis Wright's fiction is set in contemporary aboriginal communities and all the more illuminating for it...
sorry - that turned into more of a post than a comment... I've been meaning to post about it for a while, but this just about covers it really.

[John Self]

I thought English Passengers very impressive and admirable but, as is sometimes the way with these things, didn't really *enjoy* it very much. It seemed to take rather a long time to say what we already knew, which is that the English, given half a chance, used to sail across the world and nick other people's countries, often in the belief that they were doing them a tremendous favour. I also didn't enjoy, and didn't think it impressive or admirable, Kneale's recent collection of stories, Small Crimes in an Age of Abundance. However, your recommendation for When We Were Romans is almost too good to pass up.

I'd agree that the similarly-titled When We Were Good should be in for a shout at the Booker longlist at the very least, and my other prediction on that front is Peter Ho Davies' The Welsh Girl (see review on my blog: not sure how to do links in the middle of a post like this). I reckon even people who don't like it will see how it has 'Booker nominee' written all over it: and you can take that how you will.

I'd also like to see Jim Crace's The Pesthouse make it, but along with Kneale and Mendelson, that would be three Picadors, which might be statistically unlikely.

Oh and the unusual dimensions of the Kneale book sound similar to those of Cormac McCarthy's (Picador-published) The Road in hardback. There, it helped accentuate the tall trees in the cover image. Variety is the spice and all that.

[Ann Darnton]

I missed out on 'English Passengers' as well but I'll add this to the pile.