“Did you know in Tudor times all the brothels were south of the river in Southwark and it was only much later that they moved up this way to Soho. Stews, they were called then.”
“Yes, you have told me that before.”
Like her Booker-nominated novel Elmet, Fiona Mozley’s followup — Hot Stew — concerns issues of identity, ownership, gentrification, and those on the margins who get pushed out as the ultra-rich move in. But where Elmet was set in an idyllic and seemingly ageless hinterland, Hot Stew occurs in the seethe of modern-day London, mostly focussing on one crumbling Soho townhouse and the goings-on therein. Along the way, Mozley explores classism, gender politics, sexuality, and money, money, money. The social commentary is still pretty black and white this time around (the poor are good and the rich are evil), but there are some surprises around who holds the ultimate power and there are some nicely funny bits. This was an easy, character-filled read and shows an author building on her strengths; but perhaps not in the direction of more literary awards. (Note: I read an ARC through NetGalley and passages quoted may not be in their final forms.)
“It’s named for the sound the men and the animals made when there was hunting afoot,” the Archbishop states. “A so and a ho from man and beast. A so ho, a so ho. That’s what they shrieked when they got on their horses and chased deer through the forest. Before there were bricks and windows and sewers, there were grasses and roots and trees and deer. Deer deer deer that brought the men out of the city on horses with a so and a ho.”
In this centuries-old Soho townhouse, there’s a trendy French restaurant on the ground floor, the upper stories serve as illegal flats and a brothel — the highest floor and roof garden are occupied by what may be considered the “main” characters in this book of many; the Nigerian sex worker, Precious, and her “maid” and companion, Tabitha — and the unfinished cellar is peopled with drug addicts, kooks, and other discarded people. All live in a sort of communal harmony until Agatha — the upperclass businesswoman who owns this building, having inherited it along with the rest of her billionaire gangster father’s fortune — decides it’s time to “blank-slate” the building (blank-slating meaning “evicting people from their homes or businesses, gutting the buildings and employing a fashionable architect to redesign them from the inside-out”). Most of the plot involves Agatha’s efforts to evict the tenants, and those tenants fighting back.
Roster puts on the handbrake and turns off the engine. He speaks from the front seat without turning his head. “The business might be taking a new direction, but the world is much the same as it ever was.”
It was interesting to see Precious approach her sex work with dignity — although there is mention of sex-trafficking, pimps, and other forms of exploitation elsewhere, the women in this building have power, choice, and agency; this is simply the work they choose to do and are grateful they have a safe place to practise their arts. More heavy-handedly, we also see an actor getting his big break playing a Medieval brothel-keeper in a Game of Thrones knockoff (and the actresses in this television show seem more debased than Precious and her friends), a heroin addict from the cellar bears the scars of what she has done for her fixes, we learn that Agatha’s mother was a Russian emigre who has supported herself (from the age of fourteen) as the mistress of very wealthy men, and even college girls might turn to escort work in order to pay their fees. There are several upper-class characters trying to figure out how to live a meaningful life, old men trying to forget the past, and while everyone is chasing money as the pinnacle of happiness, no one seems to be able to find love. All of this was highly interesting — if a bit too pat in the end — but it wasn’t terribly deep or insightful. Still, an overall enjoyable read; I’ll round up to four stars.
