THE GREAT FIRE

Leaving Brian Talbot to his lunch in the common room, Leith loped across the spongy upward ground into which the weightless house seemed, that day, to be scarcely set. When he came in shrugging the storm from his shoulders like any Westerner and slapping his cap against his leg, his coat was at once removed by light hands: a gesture seeming to relieve coat as much as owner. But the house itself would not enclose him or identify. Translucent structures are not welcoming in cold rain.
The day had been unfortunate, all omens adverse; and the man himself at odds with the eagerness that quickened his step.
It was now, however, that his luck – if that’s what is was – turned.

Last week, my new book group had its first proper meeting. Our book was The Great Fire (2003) by Shirley Hazzard.
Very briefly: 32-year-old Aldred Leith, a decorated English war hero, is in Japan to report on the aftermath of the Hiroshima bombing. Staying with a repellent Australian couple, he befriends their two children. Benedict is dying of a rare disease and his younger sister Helen has become his comforter and carer. Aldred falls in love with Helen – they are separated by her parents and his work – they reunite in the end. There are many other minor characters, backstory showing Aldred’s troubled relationship with his father, his love affair with the mother of a dead friend and his failed marriage. A sub-plot features Peter Exley, Aldred’s Australian friend, trying to investigate war crimes and negotiate post-war life in Hong Kong.

I’d read Hazzard’s 1980 The Transit of Venus when I was a young woman and remembered enjoying it, so I thought this novel would be a safe bet.

Well, no, not really. I didn’t like it. I finished it because I felt I had to. And it turned out that some members felt the same. A couple gave up on it. Only two felt they’d read it with genuine pleasure, and interestingly they were ex-English teachers who were armed with all sorts of analytical skills that I lack. Both of these members actually read it twice. That’s dedication!

So, do I mark it down as a book group fail?

Not at all. I’d come prepared with all sorts of generic book group discussion questions, but the session just ran itself. The book elicited so much discussion, so many differing opinions and from some of the readers, such strong feelings that I’d have to count it as a success. One reader loved all the detail and description; another felt it dragged the story down. One person found the writing style brilliant; another kept having to find words in the dictionary. Two readers just hated it! As for me, I could admire much of the writing and the skill with which Hazzard manipulated the intertwined strands, but the effect was detached, even cold. And a bit too Henry James at times. One of the group described Hazzard as ‘a writer’s writer’, and I did think that if perhaps I read more carefully, my appreciation would grow. And at some future date, I will give The Transit of Venus a whirl.

We all agreed, however, that the central love story between 32-year-old English officer Aldred Leith and the 17-year-old innocent Helen Driscoll was problematic. Poor Helen, sensitive, intelligent and so totally innocent. She talked like a book and seemed like someone for Aldred to project his dreams onto rather than a real person. Aldred himself was a wooden hero; the flawed Peter Exley was much more interesting.

And times have changed. Aldred was an experienced man in his 30s; Helen had only just turned 17. The scenes where they skulked around in the gardens of her parents house, lying on his coat fondling and caressing gave me the creeps. Ugh.

I’m looking forward to our next book group meeting. It will be much less interesting if we all agree!