Canvey Island

James Runcie's Canvey Island is a quiet, thoughtful work of fiction that shows how the character of average people is shaped by the most difficult circumstances of their lives, much like the battered British coastline, which his protagonist tries so desperately to preserve, is inevitably worn away by the ravages of the sea. As a young boy, Martin witnesses his beloved mother's death by drowning in a terrible flood on their island home. His father Len, in the meantime, is out dancing on the mainland with Martin's floozy aunt Violet and her husband George, a man who lost his sanity during a grisly battle in WWII. As an adult, Martin becomes a water engineer, studying England's rugged shore in hopes of understanding, containing and controlling the very sort of catastrophe that took his mother from him. The book is written in short chapters narrated by all the principle characters - Martin, Len, Violet and George, as well as the two women in Martin's life - his first love, Linda, and his wife, Claire. It's an ingenius method of storytelling that allows readers to get everyone's viewpoint, and in their own words. And while some characters, most notably Aunt Violet, at the outset seem irredeemable, by the end of the book their rough edges are worn as smooth as the sea stones lovingly collected by art student Linda. They are like the malleable shoreline continually battered by the relentless seas, victims of their own experiences and, as their past is revealed to us, the characters become more human, easier to understand, somewhat likeable and, in certain respects, even quite valiant. Some critics were exasperated by the protagonist Martin because they found him to be too passive. For me, this was a large part of the book's fascination and most certainly its main point - that humans, by our very nature, are reactive more often than we are proactive. Martin, like the other characters, has been shaped by the events of his life. And his attempts to break free prove mostly futile. Particularly in light of the fact that what he's trying to escape is the inevitability of decay and death. After his wife, Claire, goes off on a lengthy, women-only protest against the installation of missiles silos in the UK, he drifts back into an affair with Linda, his high school sweetheart. But ultimately, he hasn't the fortitude to choose between the women and instead takes the path of least resistance, breaking Linda's heart once more. A similar choice, we later learn, to the one made by his Aunt Violet so many years earlier. Runcie has created a loving portrait of post-war England and her people, worn down after the battering of WWII. As the story progresses, and he slowly reveals their secrets, each of his characters acquires the burnish and richness of authenticity and all of them win our sympathies utterly. A truly rewarding read.

This novel begins with tragedy, a seminal incident that alters the life of a young boy who loses his mother in the Canvey Island flood of 1953. The flood haunts the lives of those left behind when Lily drowns, separated from her son Martin as the rushing water swirls around them. But time wears away the most painful memories for characters that bear the fresh weight of that loss. Life goes on, the family adapting to Lily's death. Martin is most affected, forever doubting himself, wondering what he might have done differently. When the flood hits, mother and son are home alone, Lily's husband, Len, enjoying a few careless hours of dancing with her sister, Violet and his sister-in-law's shell-shocked husband, George, who watches distractedly from the sidelines. These are not a people of means, with limited resources and imagination, class a great determinant in post-war Britain. Len and Vi address their own demons as the years pass, but it is Martin who suffers the scars of his early brush with nature's intransigence. Quiet and tentative, Martin carries the burden of that transformative memory, of his helplessness. Focused on his career as a water engineer, Martin seeks to avert other such tragedies, compelled to make up for past mistakes. Martin's ambivalence and difficulties with relationships are revealed in alternating chapters, a rogue's gallery of characters and motivations, Len, Violet, George, Martin's first serious girlfriend, Linda and his feminist wife, Claire, a vicar's daughter. Reacting to the vast social changes of the era, Martin is caught between his history and an England reeling from the rebellious 60s to the banal 80s. Runcie captures the uneasy aftermath of tragedy, the personal reactions of survivors in a stark portrait of simple people flummoxed by a random and irreversible act of nature. Beginning with the night of the flood, the author burrows deeply into the psyches of his characters, particularly Martin, their all-too-human reactions and self-justifications, the boy's confusion and horror at the reality of his loss. In a contrast of character, social class and aspirations, Canvey Island mirrors society at large, a drama of love, loss and a need to make peace with a lifetime of mistakes. And like life, what begins with sturm und drang ends with the quiet acquiescence of man vs. fate. It is time's attrition that Runcie captures best, a social commentary revealing an intimate acquaintance with human nature and its flaws. Luan Gaines/2009.

Canvey Island is a good book about "ordinary" people living "normal" lives (in quotes because I don't believe there really is such a thing). This book reminds you that there is a story inside everyone's life. What makes it especially interesting is that while Martin (the boy who lost his mother in the flood at the beginning of the book) is the main character, the story is told from the perspective of several characters. This technique can often be distracting, so I was surprised to find that each character, even the women, had an authentic voice. As a woman, I admire a male writer who can write a believable female character, even if, as in this case, their motivations and histories are not explored as deeply as is the main character, Martin. This is a simple, well-written story about the jumble of love, loss and home and how they blend together in the cocktail of life - often with interesting or unexpected results. I probably would have rated it higher if there had been a little more humor in the story. It felt a little one-sided in its portrayal of the "seriousness" of life without enough of the joy.