If
there is anything we have an evolving relationship with in life it is
time. Small children essentially ignorant of the concept and the
elderly perhaps all too aware, our perception of time changes
throughout our lives. Sometimes by sub-conscious degree and other
times as the result of dramatic events, who we are—our
identities—are closely linked to our understanding and relationship
with the clock. (How was that for a Proustian review intro?)
Engaging with this evolution in highly intriguing fashion is
Christopher Priest’s 2016 The Gradual.
Alessandro
Suskind has the misfortune of being born in the country of Glaund. A
totalitarian, oppressive country persistently at war, many of its
best sons are whisked away in the military draft, including his
brother, Jacj, and never seen again. Due to a lull in the fighting,
when Alessandro comes of age he avoids a similar fate and is able to
develop his true passions in life, music and composing. Finishing
university and getting his feet wet in the field at an early age, it
isn’t long before he has some success. Publishing a couple of
minor symphony and orchestral arrangements, his name becomes known
even beyond Glaund. Asked one day to participate in a ten-week
musical tour to a group of neighboring islands, Alessandro gets his
first taste of life outside his oppressive Glaund and sees for
himself the Dream Archipelago—the far off inspiration for some of
his music. His troubles immediately set in, however, upon his
return: his wristwatch not matching Glaund time, Suskind has a few
pieces of his life to pick up.
Though
the novel begins in fully realist mode, Suskind’s return to Glaund
upon the completion of his musical tour of the Dream Archipelago
makes it known that it is not as such, however. Mode operating
somewhere within the fuzzy bounds of surrealism, magic-realism, and
slipstream, Priest pulls the white veil of innocence over the
reader’s head and gently begins removing it as realization of the
story’s reality is revealed one tantalizing step at a time through
Alessandro’s journey. The seemingly innocuous wooden stave he is
given while on tour becoming something much more meaningful, not to
mention symbolic, as his life moves forward, Priest marries a truly
interesting plot device with theme in suspenseful, unique fashion.
Another
piece to the tapestry, The Gradual is a novel set in Priest’s
Dream Archipelago setting. Setting a strong word in this case,
Priest has used the vast island group as a playground for personal
growth or understanding throughout his career. There are some
commonalities (the backdrop of war, the one-degree difference to
reality, the spread of mystery, etc.), but overall Priest once again
capitalizes on the notion.
Priest
has always been known for writing precise, revelatory prose, and
nothing changes in The Gradual. One defined word, one lucid
sentence, one considered step at a time, he takes the reader through
the life of Alessandro Suskind—its complexity deceptively simple
due to the effortless manner in which the prose rolls clickety-clack,
one perfectly crafted sentence after another. One minute the reader
is reading of the life of an ordinary man, and somehow the next they
are caught up in an experience that has Suskind questioning
fundamental realities of his life through music, family, and the
exigencies time places upon us whether we want them or not-and can’t
wait to continue reading. (And the conclusion is everything as
subtly surprising as we sub-consciously knew it would be.)
The
Gradual garnered a minimum of recognition upon its release, and
the reasons are reasonably clear. A staid, human novel lacking the
explosions and laser fights so many genre readers seek, it’s a
novel best appreciated by the more sophisticated, literary reader who
makes no distinctions for genre. Someday perhaps I will write an
article about the sad niche of ‘literary fantastika’ and the love
its writers must have to continue writing in the vein without selling
out, but for now, suffice to say Priest is, and has long been, one of
the niche’s main inhabitants. Highly recommended.
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