Son of Nobody

 

Between the mighty ships of the two great kings,

Zeus-like Agamemnon's one hundred sea-borne

fortresses, and those of his brother, fierce

Lord Menelaus's sixty grand warships

rested on the sands the awe-striking vessels

of god-feared Diomédes, eighty in all.

And next to these, on the Agamemnon side,

lying in wait like a lion about to pounce,

crouched the forty proud ships of Midea,

on which arrived Psoas, the son of nobody.

"What a magnificent sight, our armada of

one thousand one hundred and eighty-six warships!"

said he. "We will make good of our time here.

To take from the rich Trojans, what a dream."

 

Kennedy is kind of having an "Odyssey Summer" — she has seen Christopher Nolan's movie on IMAX screens, twice; her book club read Song of Achilles; and based on my recommendation that it's the better book, she followed that up with Circe — so when I saw that there was an event at Stratford that would see author Yann Martel in conversation regarding his new novel Son of Nobody, I asked Kennedy if she would like to buddy read the book with me and come along to the event; she was interested, so that's what we did.

To begin with the new book: It was just okay. I did like that it was a retelling of The Odyssey from a commoner's POV — the bits that made up the "discovered" epic, The Psoad, were nicely done — but the counterpoint narrative of the academic who pieced the epic together was fairly heavy-handed and predictable; I found little artistry in it. I would give it three stars overall. Just okay.

But when we were done reading Son of Nobody, and before we discussed it, I asked Kennedy if she had ever read Martel's first big novel, Life of Pi, and since she hadn't, and because I was afraid it might be spoiled for her at the discussion because of some crossover themes, Kennedy read it last week, too. And she loved it, as did I back in the day.

We talked about both books as we drove to Stratford, and I asked her if she knew anything else about Martel. Since she didn't, I told her how honoured the author had been to receive a letter from Barack Obama, congratulating him on Life of Pi, because he had found it to be "an elegant proof of God" (which was the big metaphorical payoff that I was afraid would be spoiled for Kennedy at the discussion). And then I told her how, when Martel read that our own Prime Minister, Stephen Harper, was quoted as saying he didn't read fiction, Martel proceeded to send Harper a book, every two weeks for four years, and collected his recommendations (and accompanying letters) in 101 Letters to a Prime Minister. And while I 100% agree that reading fiction is mind-expanding and promotes empathy and understanding diverse POVs and experiences, even at the time, this felt like a smug stunt. I then told Kennedy how Martel had once famously said that Canada was just a "Grand Hotel" that people can check in and out of without needing to feel any responsibility toward or need to commit — a quote which our next Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau, used as proof that Canada is the "first postnational state in the world", and some would say, led to a drop in patriotism (a word now used negatively in Canada and mostly linked to far-right extremism and Albertan separatism).

So Kennedy asked if I actually like Yann Martel, wondered why we were even going to the discussion, and I replied that of course I like him: Life of Pi is a fairly perfect novel, and while sometimes an author really only has one good novel in them, I was very interested in hearing him speak in person.

The talk was interesting enough — Martel was a little smug discussing his artistic choices for Son of Nobody (which hadn't blown me away on the page; even his explanation for his main character's name, "Harlowe Donne", didn't really justify choosing something so disarmingly twee), and while the concept of adding a commoner's story to the foundational text of Western culture is admirable (we are mostly commoners after all), he did nothing to add women to the story, and as a matter of fact, Kennedy and I were both a little annoyed that Martel seemed to denigrate the recent, and celebrated, new translation of The Odyssey by Emily Wilson (the first published translation by a woman, and the source for Christopher Nolan's epic fim).

Now, before the event started, ushers handed out cards and pencils for the audience to ask questions in the Q & A portion, so Kennedy and I did some thinking on what we'd like to ask. She ended up asking if Martel had intentionally planned to have this novel release the same year as the film. And while the question wasn't read out, at one point Martel happened to mention that it was all a coincidence (which may not have seemed truthy; both projects were in the works for years.) Kennedy joked that I should just write, "Where do you get off?", but I did write: If, as you have said, Canada is just a "Grand Hotel" and citizenship nothing but "an act of faith", does it even matter if we become the 51st state?

In the course of answering audience questions, Martel often went off on political tangents, many times referencing the "madness" south of the border, so after one particularly scathing tirade, interviewer Ali Hassan held up a notecard and said, "I don't know if I should read this one, but it came from the audience, and it seems to tie in to what you were just talking about," and then he read my question. And the audience collectively gasped (Kennedy described it more as a groan, but I think we each heard what we expected, lol).

Martel sighed a bit peevishly and said that that quote had been taken out of context for years, but added that there had been a time when the idea of the ten Canadian provinces becoming part of the sixty United States of North America was an interesting one (why was I the only one who gasped at that?), and he went on to give a non-answer about how European countries had been good at extractive colonialism but not good at spreading Western values around the world, whereas the Americans had won the world-wide culture war through Capitalism (there are McDonald's restaurants everywhere!), but obviously, as their current President demonstrates (and he went on a tangent here about Ulysses S Grant), the American presidency has long been occupied by larger than life characters, whereas our own leaders tend to be boring and safe. In a way, it did feel like I had asked "Where do you get off?" and it felt kind of exciting to have made a small impact on the conversation.

Overall: I am really happy to have read the novel — and especially alongside Kennedy and her Odyssey summer — and also happy to have had this experience with her; Yann Martel is a globally respected author and a thought leader and I don't have to always agree with someone to learn from them. (Although Kennedy and I noted that we had a more enjoyable time the last time we went to one of these events — a discussion of Gothic Literature with Margaret Atwood, Mona Awad, and Naomi Alderman — that I used in a Halloween post, here; and not just because the testosterone levels on stage were a little lower.)

I acknowledge that this is no kind of book review, but I will record the fact that Son of Nobody felt like a three star read.