Fiction Reviews
Psalms For the End of the World
(2022) Cole Haddon, Headline, £20, hrdbk, 517pp, ISBN 978-1-472-28667-3
This novel pitches somewhere between The Matrix and Marvel’s latest take on Loki, with more than a hint of Philip K. Dick. And it’s not averse to taking a sideways lurch into Titanic territory just when you mistakenly think the narrative might be starting to make some sense. It’s clever, inventive, unsettling and often plain weird.
Grace, a waitress, falls for one of her regulars, Bobby, but Bobby’s not what he seems and soon he’s wanted by the FBI (who also aren’t what they seem, at least not all of them). Bobby can’t remember Grace, and he can’t remember planting a bomb in Pasadena either. And then he starts to piece it all together…
Oh, but this is a frustrating novel. It took an age to read – not because it is overly long (though it is quite long), and not because the prose is difficult or the writing poor (it isn’t, it’s silky-smooth and well crafted). It is because structurally – until you reach the end and see how it all twists together like an intricately balanced machine – it comes across as a hot mess (though, in the context of what the story’s about, the structure makes perfect sense) with multiple points of view and many diverse scenarios across time and (in some cases literally) space. So you engage with one part then have to shift to another, then another, and by the time you’ve emerged you can barely remember your own name, let alone some 12th century warrior with a limited shelf life and multiple played out scenarios. Following the thread of anything becomes impossible. So you break off to make a cup of coffee and watch Ted Lasso instead. Immersive it isn’t. Until, when you start to join the dots, it most certainly is.
The approach is very televisual, but it’s not always obvious where the connective tissue is, and the reason for some of the dramatic choices is often not clear. It makes it hard, in particular, to develop a feel for many of the (many) characters, or see how they slot into the overall narrative. But when you come across the aha! moments when you realise that a character in one part of the sprawling timeline connects, appears or echoes in another part of the story, you smile and persevere for more.
Some scenarios and timelines work better than others. The Bobby/Jones/Gracie timeline (early 1960’s, Pasadena and Tuscon) anchors the rest of the narrative and although it’s not without its head scratching moments, it’s engaging and inventive. The Keisha (1990s scriptwriter) timeline is interesting and well presented too, as are the multiple deaths in space subsections. If none of this makes any sense at first, welcome to the club. ‘The more the Perceived World around them didn’t make sense the more they went – yeah - loco.’ Jones says, in the middle of an existential conversation while having his feet massaged. Indeed.
It feels like you’re watching a bank of TV screens all tuned to different channels with the sound dialled high on each one, making it impossible to concentrate on the football. Fans of chaos and complexity will enjoy it. Me? I’ll take the blue pill.
Mark Bilsborough
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