November
05
The Lessons by John Purcell
There is something very satisfying when I recommend a title to my book-loving (and book-blogging) 24 year old and she loves it as much as did. This is such a book, so regardless of where you sit on the age spectrum, The Lessons is one to note.
And because we are now chortling toward Christmas at the speed of light – and I have a tonne of books to blog about – I thought with each one, I’d give you the nod to pop it on your gift list – or – a warning to give it a wide berth (and you can send thanks my way as I’ve done you a favour, saved you some hard earned moula and you’ve avoided the pain of a dud, you lucky beast).
This one is absolutely one for under the tree especially if you are sorting your holiday reading in advance (as one should). All you will need is this book, a martini, a pool, a kids club if required and the hotel’s Do Not Disturb sign tucked very visibly in your togs.
Moving between 1961 and 1983, this is a story of Daisy. And Harry. And Jane. Each chapter tells their story – back and forth. I’ve recently learned that lots of people don’t like this style of storytelling but I happen to really like it, so a warning if it’s not your cup of tea.
When we meet a teenage Daisy she has just met Harry, the farm boy from a nearby property, they fall desperately in love, or lust, but class and education cast heavy barriers. Daisy’s parents, seeking to take the sizzle out of her, send her to live with her aunt Jane – the glamorous, bohemian novelist. It’s a terrifically intoxicating life with Jane (literally intoxicating as drinking and smoking are du jour from sun up to sun down) and Daisy, young and desperately wanting to grow up as fast as possible is swept up in it all …. and so, dear, delightful, sweet Harry is kicked to the curb.
Daisy eventually marries Simon, Jane’s rich lover who shared the house with them all while Daisy was in residence (Jane is married, forgot to mention) and they go on to lead a hedonistic life in the south of France and Italy – along with Jane, said husband and a tribe of glamorous hangers on.
It’s all so written beautifully. Halcyon, languid days poolside with nothing to do but revel and just be rich and beautiful. I could smell the suntan lotion on the breeze as I read. The relationships are complex – some endearing and some outright horrible because narcissism and alcohol are not easy bed-fellows.
Life moves from the coast to a large, splendid house in London which then becomes the centre of the party…on and on it goes…but in the shadows, Harry’s ghost is always haunting Daisy. He’s moved on and away (but not before sharing a kiss with Daisy’s aunt Jane in the local pub. Again, nice work Jane).
But then, on an ordinary day, Daisy vanishes and is never seen again.
Just like that.
Fast forward to 1983 and Jane, now a famous novelist has flown to New York to be interviewed about her new book. She’s written about the traumatic coming of age of a young woman who goes missing. Reporters and reviewers naturally think it’s about Daisy because her shock disappearance was so well documented. Jane refuses to admit it – but we all know it is because Jane is a selfish, hollow, narcissist so she has no problem exploiting everyone she knows – especially those she’s meant to love and protect. Her interviewer definitely knows and he’s unafraid to call her out in public.
This book is intriguing for lots of reasons. The people, their lack of morals, their self obsessions shaded with the heady veil of glamour. The superb locations, the bon vivant lifestyle and of course the dark desperation and betrayal of writers and people in general. It’s decadent, it’s wild so of course, it’s utterly captivating reading.
And look, if you don’t get around to reading this one (even though you should) I’d put money on it being made into a fabulous Netflix series lickety split, so you could wait it out, pour that martini and command the remote when it premieres. And there is a lovely twist at the end that will make you smile. A lot.
But that is just my 2 cents worth.
Readhead 