What’s it about then?
Well, that’s tricky.
This is the basic ‘spoiler free’ description that you should use if you want to read the novel and preserve its impact. If you want to find out more about the key issues and events then you can jump to the Spoilt page.
Tragic
For those of you who are still here, then, the first thing that I should say is that Falling is a tragedy and, as with all traditional tragedy, you know that it’s a tragedy. You know that bad things are coming but the interest is in trying to understand what brings them about.
Aristotle defines a tragic character as one who evokes “a sense of pity and fear in the audience. He is considered a man of misfortune that comes to him through error of judgement.” This is sometimes called a ‘fatal flaw’; something that’s wrong in the character’s personality that leads inevitably to the tragic outcome.
The poison at the root of that personality is there in the first section of the book, when our characters meet and first attempt to engage. It then ripens into something more destructive and sinister in the second part, set thirteen years later.
Two Acts
The action is presented in two acts. The first is fast-moving and light-hearted, reflecting the joy and idealism of young people just embarking upon adult life. In the second, life has become more difficult and storm clouds are gathering.
Weighty
It’s a weighty tome but then it’s really two distinct novels. I did think about separating them but decided that the first part was not enough on its own and, whereas the second part could technically survive the separation, it thrives much better in the context of the first. Being lighter in tone, the first part serves as a counterpoint to the second.
It’s weighty in theme as well, but not in tone. The issues that it addresses are not easy or comfortable and indeed I wrote it specifically to highlight and address those issues. Although a glance through a synopsis would reveal some grim subject matter, those who have read it have found it easy going and enjoyable and many have rattled through it in a matter of days.
One of my favourite novels is Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernieres. Set during the Second World War, it deals with fighting and dying in the freezing temperatures of the Albanian front, a German invasion and subsequent massacre, and the subjugation of a peaceable and peace-loving community. And yet for all this, the writing is infused with a joy and a frivolity that makes it dance in the reader’s mind, and one is left with visions of the extraordinary light of a Cephalonian summer and not the dark, brooding clouds of oppression and death. I’m no Louis de Bernieres, but I mention this to show that grim subject matter does not necessarily make for a grim read.
Provocative
I do, though, want to provoke thought. The issues that Falling brings to light are emotive and visceral and they tend to evoke strong, knee-jerk reactions that can swamp more nuanced reflection. This is comfortable. Right and wrong are clearly delineated for us by our emotional responses, and we don’t need to trouble ourselves with deeper engagement. I hope to be able take the reader beyond this binary thinking. There’s too much at stake not to engage with these issue more thoughtfully, and tragedies like that portrayed in Falling are evolving all around us.