The Versions of Us by Laura Barnett
I’d heard a great deal about The Versions of Us before I read it. Described on the cover as ‘One Day meets Sliding Doors’ I liked the concept: three versions of the same love story. In 1958, Eva and Jim are students at Cambridge. One day in October, their paths cross. And from that moment onwards, the book takes us down three different accounts of what happened next.
To give you a flavour, in Version One, Jim invites Eva for a drink. They fall in love, she drops her luvvie boyfriend David, and they end up getting married. In Version Two, Eva marries David, and she and Jim don’t meet again for some time. In Version Three, they get together, briefly and passionately, but Eva goes back to David.
As the years progress, the reader is presented with chapters alternating between the different versions. In each version Jim becomes an artist and Eva a writer, although with varying degrees of success. Again, in each account their paths continue to cross, with considerable overlap in each of the three strands.
It’s a clever idea, if not a completely original one. As well as One Day and Sliding Doors it reminded me of Lionel Shriver’s The Post-Birthday World. In one story, Jim paints a triptych called The Versions of Us which he describes as being about the many roads not taken, the many lives not lived. And in version One, their meeting is even brought about by a swerve to avoid a rusty nail. The symbolism is obvious: for want of a nail, a kingdom was lost, as the old proverb goes.
It’s a likeable book, cleverly executed and was an enjoyable and absorbing read. However, I confess at times to struggling to keep track of the different versions. Which man was Eva with – and which were her children in this narrative strand? Unlike in Shriver’s version, where there were two distinctly different stories, beautifully brought together at the end, I’m still slightly muddled about who/what/when. There was almost too much overlap in each story. As a result my emotions were never quite as deeply engaged as I would have liked. Perhaps it would have been easier to read each version separately.
It’s an assured and impressive debut. Certainly the publisher made a big splash with The Versions of Us and it has been widely and extravagantly admired. For myself, I’d say an enjoyable and entertaining read, but perhaps a book that didn’t entirely deliver on its promise.
The Book of Strange New Things by Michel Faber
To my slight shame, I had never read Michel Faber until recently. I knew of him by reputation, and then encountered him at a literary festival last year where he was talking about The Book of Strange New Things and his life in writing. He’s the internationally acclaimed author of the bestseller, The Crimson Petal and the White, amongst other titles. But this novel, published in 2014, will be his last, he insists.
Once he started talking about his life – and especially the loss of his beloved wife, Eva – the reason for this unusual decision became clearer. He’s a fascinating man, with a somewhat tortured life story, and gave a talk that was both entertaining and acutely sad. He lives in a remote farmhouse in northern Scotland. The reason? His wife fell in love with the view, and moved her entirely family (including her ex-husband) across the world from Australia to take advantage of it.
But I digress. After hearing him speak, I felt I must read The Book of Strange New Things. The central character is Peter, a devoted Christian who is called to the mission of a lifetime, to take the Good News to a planet far away from his beloved wife, Bea. Peter sets off on his travels and soon becomes immersed in the mysteries of his new environment. His work introduces him to a native population struggling with a dangerous illness and hungry for Peter’s teachings—his Bible is their “book of strange new things”. But news from home is troubling: Peter receives increasingly desperate messages from home. A series of natural disasters is devastating whole countries, and governments are crumbling. Bea’s faith, once the guiding light of their lives, begins to falter.
I found this book masterly. It is highly accomplished, utterly convincing and a real page-turner. Faber insists that he has no religious faith, but inhabits the world of the Christian missionary (a dramatically reformed sinner) with conviction. I found it extraordinary and mesmerizing – and quite unlike anything I have ever read before.
I’d heard a great deal about The Versions of Us before I read it. Described on the cover as ‘One Day meets Sliding Doors’ I liked the concept: three versions of the same love story. In 1958, Eva and Jim are students at Cambridge. One day in October, their paths cross. And from that moment onwards, the book takes us down three different accounts of what happened next.
To give you a flavour, in Version One, Jim invites Eva for a drink. They fall in love, she drops her luvvie boyfriend David, and they end up getting married. In Version Two, Eva marries David, and she and Jim don’t meet again for some time. In Version Three, they get together, briefly and passionately, but Eva goes back to David.
As the years progress, the reader is presented with chapters alternating between the different versions. In each version Jim becomes an artist and Eva a writer, although with varying degrees of success. Again, in each account their paths continue to cross, with considerable overlap in each of the three strands.
It’s a clever idea, if not a completely original one. As well as One Day and Sliding Doors it reminded me of Lionel Shriver’s The Post-Birthday World. In one story, Jim paints a triptych called The Versions of Us which he describes as being about the many roads not taken, the many lives not lived. And in version One, their meeting is even brought about by a swerve to avoid a rusty nail. The symbolism is obvious: for want of a nail, a kingdom was lost, as the old proverb goes.
It’s a likeable book, cleverly executed and was an enjoyable and absorbing read. However, I confess at times to struggling to keep track of the different versions. Which man was Eva with – and which were her children in this narrative strand? Unlike in Shriver’s version, where there were two distinctly different stories, beautifully brought together at the end, I’m still slightly muddled about who/what/when. There was almost too much overlap in each story. As a result my emotions were never quite as deeply engaged as I would have liked. Perhaps it would have been easier to read each version separately.
It’s an assured and impressive debut. Certainly the publisher made a big splash with The Versions of Us and it has been widely and extravagantly admired. For myself, I’d say an enjoyable and entertaining read, but perhaps a book that didn’t entirely deliver on its promise.
The Book of Strange New Things by Michel Faber
To my slight shame, I had never read Michel Faber until recently. I knew of him by reputation, and then encountered him at a literary festival last year where he was talking about The Book of Strange New Things and his life in writing. He’s the internationally acclaimed author of the bestseller, The Crimson Petal and the White, amongst other titles. But this novel, published in 2014, will be his last, he insists.
Once he started talking about his life – and especially the loss of his beloved wife, Eva – the reason for this unusual decision became clearer. He’s a fascinating man, with a somewhat tortured life story, and gave a talk that was both entertaining and acutely sad. He lives in a remote farmhouse in northern Scotland. The reason? His wife fell in love with the view, and moved her entirely family (including her ex-husband) across the world from Australia to take advantage of it.
But I digress. After hearing him speak, I felt I must read The Book of Strange New Things. The central character is Peter, a devoted Christian who is called to the mission of a lifetime, to take the Good News to a planet far away from his beloved wife, Bea. Peter sets off on his travels and soon becomes immersed in the mysteries of his new environment. His work introduces him to a native population struggling with a dangerous illness and hungry for Peter’s teachings—his Bible is their “book of strange new things”. But news from home is troubling: Peter receives increasingly desperate messages from home. A series of natural disasters is devastating whole countries, and governments are crumbling. Bea’s faith, once the guiding light of their lives, begins to falter.
I found this book masterly. It is highly accomplished, utterly convincing and a real page-turner. Faber insists that he has no religious faith, but inhabits the world of the Christian missionary (a dramatically reformed sinner) with conviction. I found it extraordinary and mesmerizing – and quite unlike anything I have ever read before.