THE SUNDAY REVIEW | LANNY – MAX PORTER

 

I’ve heard wonderful things about Max Porter’s last novel, Grief Is the Thing with Feathers. It wasn’t a story that appealed to me, but I was curious about Porter’s writing because all the rave reviews talked about his linguistic ability. Lanny has started to generate similar praise, bolstered now by the book’s inclusion on this year’s Booker Prize longlist. I picked it up because it was one of the first books I got my hands on from the longlist, and, if I’m honest, the shortest. I was a bit reticent about it, particularly when I began flipping through it and saw the mixed media elements. But when I started reading, I was drawn in almost immediately.

This book is the story of a young boy and the people who encircle him – his parents, art teacher, neighbours and one rather esoteric figure from local mythology who appears to be a master of ceremonies and bemused observer of everything going on on his turf. In the first section we switch between four main characters – Lanny’s parents (as yet unnamed), Pete (the local famous artist cum art teacher to Lanny) and Dead Papa Toothwort, our mythical spectre. The latter’s sections are very odd and seem to be a mish-mash of his own thoughts and those of the townspeople. You start to get a creepy feeling in your spine, but it’s hard to suss out what his game is.

The writing is poetic. There are sections that seem more poetry than prose. I felt like every single word had been specifically chosen to best fit its purpose, and the result was a style that is spare, sharp and evocative. I normally like a book that allows me to quickly find my feet in its world (part of why I’m not big on fantasy and sci-fi), but that didn’t happen with this book. I had no idea where the story was going to go, what the deal was with Dead Papa Toothwort, and how to categorize the adult characters. But, oddly enough, I actually enjoyed that in this book.

I’m not sure how much to tell you about what happens in the story since it’s a short one, so let’s just say something happens in the village – we assume orchestrated by Dead Papa Toothwort – that turns the entire place on its head. This is when we switch to a rapid-fire series of largely anonymous thoughts and observations of the main characters, peripheral characters, random members of the village, visitors, rubberneckers and just people watching news coverage. Most of the time we don’t know who is saying what, but this means that what is said matters more than who is saying it. It also allows us to explore all the things people think when a horrific situation is unfolding but wouldn’t ever say – like that they’re enjoying the drama or that they finally got their few minutes on the tele. It shows the variance in human reaction, the goodwill of some and the truly nasty hidden sentiments of others. It was a brilliant literary device, and one I’ve never encountered before. It served to create a sense of chaos that echoed the situation in the village, and also made it feel immediate and intimate.

Then we get to the one part of the book I didn’t enjoy. There’s a sort of dream/nightmare sequence that brings Lanny’s parents, Pete and Dead Papa Toothwort onto the same stage. It is a turning point in the plot as it gives all three of them clues, but also seems to test the three of them to determine the outcome of their circumstances. I kind of understand the point of it, but I really didn’t enjoy reading it. It was full of uncomfortable imagery, straight up weird scenarios and honestly I just skimmed most of it. I’m not sure if it was just too far outside my wheelhouse, or if maybe an idea Max Porter had took on a life of its own and got away from him a bit.

The end pulled it all back together though, and it felt like Porter was back in the driver’s seat in full control. It left me feeling gratitude, love, hope and warmth. I adored the characters in this book and I was completely invested in them. I loved that Porter managed to do so much with so few pages. There wasn’t a word wasted, and he created fully-formed characters. But more than that, he was able to present a study of village life, with all its in-fighting, petty disagreements, whispered judgment and, yes, some community spirit mixed in. There were the eccentrics, the mischievous kids, the nosy neighbours, the misunderstood artist, the dislike of incomers. It’s all there in this pastiche that perfectly captures the minutia of a small community.

He also managed to perfectly capture, with the help of his stylistic choices, the confusion, voyeurism, fear, and judgment that comes with small-town crime of this type (I can’t tell you what exactly that type is without spoilers, but you will understand when you read it). The predatory news coverage, the outsiders who come just to feast on the drama and emotion and satisfy their curiosity, the suspicion that grows between the villagers as the whispering spreads. It’s a situation that brings out the worst in almost everyone. Porter captured this perfectly and I was blown away by how he managed to show rather than tell all this intricacy and undercurrent of threat and fear.

I was very surprised by how much I was touched by and enjoyed this book. It’s not my usual style, and I honestly went into it not expecting to make it very far. But I’m very grateful that, thanks to the Booker Prize, this made it onto my radar. It’s interesting, effective and innovative. Definitely worth a read, particularly if you enjoy experimental writing styles and an author who is willing to take risks with his work. I very much hope to see it on the shortlist. Bravo.


There’s a village sixty miles outside London. It’s no different from many other villages in England: one pub, one church, red-brick cottages, council cottages and a few bigger houses dotted about. Voices rise up, as they might do anywhere, speaking of loving and needing and working and dying and walking the dogs.

This village belongs to the people who live in it and to the people who lived in it hundreds of years ago. It belongs to England’s mysterious past and its confounding present. But it also belongs to Dead Papa Toothwort, a figure schoolchildren used to draw green and leafy, choked by tendrils growing out of his mouth.

Dead Papa Toothwort is awake. He is listening to this twenty-first-century village, to his English symphony. He is listening, intently, for a mischievous, enchanting boy whose parents have recently made the village their home. Lanny.  – Goodreads


Book Title: Lanny
Author: Max Porter
Series: No
Edition: Hardback
Published By: Faber and Faber
Released: March 5, 2019
Genre: Fiction, Experimental, Small Town, Family, Mystery
Pages: 224
Date Read: July 25-August 4, 2019
Rating: 8/10
Average Goodreads Rating: 4.22/5 (3,558 ratings)

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