The Folding Star, by Alan Hollinghurst
The Folding Star by Alan Hollinghurst
pub 1994
Vintage edition 1998, £8.99
422 pages
Summary: Edward Manners, an English teacher, escapes to a Flemish city in search of a new life. Lolita-like he falls hopelessly in love with one of his pupils, the 17 year-old Luc, and is introduced to the twilight world of the 1890s Belgian painter Edgard Orst.
It's pretty significant that the narrator of this book, Edward, is thirty-three. Three is a recurring emblem throughout - for kick-offs he takes the number three tram very early on in pursuit of the object of his obsessive desire. Then, blond, laid-back Luc is part of a trio of beautiful young things - the other two being Sybille who may or may not be his girlfriend, and the well-endowed and handsome Patrick who goes to the school from which Luc has been summarily expelled. Another pupil's father is curator of the work of a minor Symbolist artist who obsessively painted a triptych. And the book itself comprises three distinct parts. There are possibly more expressions of three but I only saw those ones. I like that kind of stuff but couldn't be intelligent about why the author did it. The impossibility of three, perhaps? The sadness of it? Dunno.
Edward isn't a particularly sympathetic character, especially when he's following Luc around, spying on him and idly helping himself to his possessions because he can't/hasn't yet attempted to have him. However, he does have a mischievous sense of humour (that it's easy to miss since his rather stuffy narration at times cleverly covers it up). As far as the central plot went, I grew quickly bored with his obsession, couldn't understand why Luc attracted him so much, felt sorry for his other two off-and-on boyfriends and had a lukewam interest in the story-within-a-story of the artist Orst. However, the middle section of the book, when Edward returns home to England for the funeral of his former lover, was wonderful. I got to know Edward during these parts, felt genuinely moved by the loss of the lover of his youth, wished the whole thing had been set there. The most attractive character in the story, Edward's close female friend Edie, only features in this middle section and I enjoyed their relationship immensely, untrammelled as it was by any erotic charge.
I wouldn't call this an uplifting book, or even a particularly satisfying read. The themes of sexual obsession, love and death can drag at times. But the parts that are good are reeeally good. Raw, touching and atmospheric. Alan Hollinghurst was all over the broadsheet press in the UK while I was halfway through, due to the publication of his new novel The Stranger's Child, and being touted as one of our best contemporary novelists. Well I wouldn't know about that, but I will definitely be reading it.
pub 1994
Vintage edition 1998, £8.99
422 pages
Summary: Edward Manners, an English teacher, escapes to a Flemish city in search of a new life. Lolita-like he falls hopelessly in love with one of his pupils, the 17 year-old Luc, and is introduced to the twilight world of the 1890s Belgian painter Edgard Orst.
It's pretty significant that the narrator of this book, Edward, is thirty-three. Three is a recurring emblem throughout - for kick-offs he takes the number three tram very early on in pursuit of the object of his obsessive desire. Then, blond, laid-back Luc is part of a trio of beautiful young things - the other two being Sybille who may or may not be his girlfriend, and the well-endowed and handsome Patrick who goes to the school from which Luc has been summarily expelled. Another pupil's father is curator of the work of a minor Symbolist artist who obsessively painted a triptych. And the book itself comprises three distinct parts. There are possibly more expressions of three but I only saw those ones. I like that kind of stuff but couldn't be intelligent about why the author did it. The impossibility of three, perhaps? The sadness of it? Dunno.
Edward isn't a particularly sympathetic character, especially when he's following Luc around, spying on him and idly helping himself to his possessions because he can't/hasn't yet attempted to have him. However, he does have a mischievous sense of humour (that it's easy to miss since his rather stuffy narration at times cleverly covers it up). As far as the central plot went, I grew quickly bored with his obsession, couldn't understand why Luc attracted him so much, felt sorry for his other two off-and-on boyfriends and had a lukewam interest in the story-within-a-story of the artist Orst. However, the middle section of the book, when Edward returns home to England for the funeral of his former lover, was wonderful. I got to know Edward during these parts, felt genuinely moved by the loss of the lover of his youth, wished the whole thing had been set there. The most attractive character in the story, Edward's close female friend Edie, only features in this middle section and I enjoyed their relationship immensely, untrammelled as it was by any erotic charge.
I wouldn't call this an uplifting book, or even a particularly satisfying read. The themes of sexual obsession, love and death can drag at times. But the parts that are good are reeeally good. Raw, touching and atmospheric. Alan Hollinghurst was all over the broadsheet press in the UK while I was halfway through, due to the publication of his new novel The Stranger's Child, and being touted as one of our best contemporary novelists. Well I wouldn't know about that, but I will definitely be reading it.