♣ The Dead School
Wednesday, 6 June 2007
Right, I just finished three Philosophy exams yesterday, and I have a fair old amount of time until I have to get back into revision proper for the last two exams on the 22nd. Therefore, I thought I would add a little zing to things by including a new rewiew. Of a book. But which book? I haven't read a huge amount recently because of revision, which is a shame, but still managed to find a bit of time to go through one or two, and so today it is the turn of the quintessentially Irish sounding, Patrick McCabe, and his novel, The Dead School.
Reading the rather distinguished blurb on the back of the book, I can see that the Times Literary Supplement, which is often very spot on thought it was an, 'appallingly funny story...horribly memorable,' and once again, they are very apt in their description. It's been cited as a foundational example of 'Bog Gothic,' i.e. a specialist Irish Gothic, and so it's no suprise that elements of both comedy and the macabre sit side by side. McCabe uses a fairly traditional device as the basis of his novel; two men who have no connection, brought up in very different enviornments in Ireland find their paths cross, the result of which ultimately leads to the two men's mutual destruction.
Now, I consult Wikipedia in order to get past the summary, which is never paticularly fun to write:
The charachters which populate the novel are it's treasures. Not just the main two charachters, but the narrative voice as well becomes an increasingly evaluative speaker on the events of the text. My favourite charachter of all though is The Dummy, a product of Malachy's fractured reality, a resident in a stereotypical, picture perfect Irish village that Malachy dreams of living in. An ever smiling, yet dumb charachter, the dummy is hilarious in how integral to Malachy's faux-village he is, yet horrifying in his marrionatte, dumb state, always wondering about with his 'melon-slice grin.' When the Dummy commits suicide, in a manner very reminiscent of Malachy's own father's death, we sense that Malachy has become so absorbed in his fantasies, that his reality has been so fractured he loses the ability to distinguish what's real and what is not. Raphael, although continually a hilarious charchter throughout, especialy when we see his intense paranoia, fear, and competitive instinct levelled against a feminist parent of a school child, he truly outdoes himself in dark humour when he takes up his post at the Dead School. Slowly losing his links to his former life, he disassociates from his own, self-awarded position as Headmaster at the Dead School, and plots how to kill 'The Headmaster'. With the brilliant inclusion of a list of potential ways to rid the school of its mastermind, drawn in the increasingly childish hand of Raphael, we come to understand that Raphael has become both Headmaster and pupil, dominant and submissive, and inevitably trapped then in a cycle of lording power over his 'pupils' whilst at the same time, deeply resenting the power of the Headmaster.Malachy Dudgeon comes from a small suburban Irish town, from a dysfunctional family, existing under the guise of happiness, using the facade of happy Sunday mornings, whilst the adultress mother and suicidal father continue to make devastating blows to their son, from which he never truly recovers, and chooses to escape into his world of imaginations, dreams and Americanisms.
On the other hand Raphael Bell comes from a small rural Irish town, and is the apparent picture of perfection. Raphael constantly seeks attention, from singing: "Wee Hughie" at any available moment to succeeding at school. However Raphael's world is gravely affected when Black and Tan soldiers shoot his father in the chest before his eyes. From this moment on Raphael strives to uphold the virtues and traditions of old Ireland, and it is innevitably this innability to transgress and adjust into modern living that leads, unsurprisingly to his suicide.
The two protagonists become inextricably linked when Malachy joins the teaching staff at Raphael's prestigious boys boarding school, which he sees as his whole life's worth. An unfortunate science trip leads to the drowning of school boy, Pat Hourican and the unravelling of both Malachy and Raphael. Malachy loses his job, and then his girlfriend, Marion, to a wild member of a rock-band, and Raphael loses his job and mind, and then subsequently his wife, Nessa dies.
Whilst Malachy becomes a waster and alcoholic and moves to London, Raphael opens what he calls 'The Dead School'. With black bin bags at the windows and an uncontrollable amount of mess and disorder. He begins to teach imaginary classes about his own life, as madness becomes inherent in his everyday life.
As the novel concludes, Raphael's suicide occurs, as does his unattended funeral. Malachy returns to his hometown to care for incapacitated mother, whom he once loathed, and there is a general air of depression, as the golden age of Ireland which Raphael had once loved is exchanged for stripjoints and graffiti.
It's a triumphant novel, and one of my favourite things about it was its sheer economy. There seem to be very few words here which don't serve some purpose. In paticular, I think that McCabe needs to be applauded for how long he keeps the initial meeting between Malachy and Raphael from taking place, choosing to spend a large amount of time focusing on the experiences that shape bothe men's lives. I'm sure this must have taken a fair amount of discipline, but it gives the final section of the book an incredible inertia, a sense of horrific momentum which draws reader and protagonists into a manic freefall. The same thought has been given to the actual structure of the text as well. Throughout the earlier sections of the book, the chapters tend to taker a resonably regular and binary format, one chapter being devoted to Raphael, and the next to Malachy. This tends to give the whole novel a kind of increasing crescendo, the feel of a dual piston, propelling the story forward. Increasingly towards the end of the book however, this structure breaks down, revealing the breaks in the charachter's own lives, and the destruction of the regualr, considered chapters only helps integrate the reader.
A fantastic book, and well worth it. Will leave you thinking about it for days. As a result, five stars!
Labels: books
posted by danny @ 11:07,
1 Comments:
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At 6 June 2007 at 12:48,
Unknown said...
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A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination [Leviticus 10:10], it is a lesser abomination that homosexuality. I don’t agree. Can you settle this?
Leviticus 20:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here?
