Monday, March 26, 2018

England, EnglandEngland, England by Julian Barnes

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


"[...] there is, I always feel, a fundamental simplicity within me, because I'm a genius."

Imagine this: in a book published exactly 20 years ago we read about a billionaire in a position of great power, a huge-scale con man, a "corporate buccaneer" who "earned" his billions by methods of "theft, conquest, and pillage" ruining other companies, and who is mainly known for his delight in firing people left and right. Doesn't this egomaniacal con man sound familiar? Also imagine this: in a book published in 1998 we read about England leaving the European Union. Doesn't that sound familiar?

Julian Barnes' England, England (1998) has one of the most ingenious setups I have ever encountered in serious literature. Alas, the wonderful setup eventually dissolves into an aimless mess. How exasperating this novel is! What a waste of a tremendous idea!

Sir Jack Pitman is the egomaniacal billionaire con man:
"Sir Jacks's ego required so much oxygen that it seemed logical and just to him that it should be extracted from the lungs of those nearby."
His favorite phrases are
"Consider yourself fired [...] You are fucking fired [...]"
He considers himself a modern Beethoven and is working on a project that will be his Ninth Symphony. He is a self-proclaimed genius (although the reader will not know whether he is a "stable genius"); for instance, he employs an Ideas Catcher whose task it is to record for posterity any "nickel-plated banality" uttered by the Great Man (as Twitter did not exist in 1998.) He also indulges in some extracurricular activities with women: I am not courageous enough to describe the activities: please read the book. Let me just disclose that he is not interested as something as conventional as "grabbing by the pussy." His tastes are more refined.

Sir Jack is working on a monumental project: building a theme park that is a miniature of England. Naturally, the theme park, aimed at American and Japanese tourists with plenty of moolah (this was written before the golden age of China began), will be located in England, specifically on the Isle of Wight, so that its address is "England, England." Sir Jack's team of researchers has discovered that contemporary tourists prefer replicas over the real thing: like we Americans have Venice and Paris in Las Vegas, Sir Jack will have a miniature replica of England in England. This is a phenomenally catchy idea for contemporary tourists because the replica will contain only the important aspects of England, none of the incidental ones. Exactly like people nowadays like to listen only to "cool bits" of classical music, just the melodious parts, the hummable themes - listening to the entire composition would be a waste of time. The experts are brought to construct a list of "Fifty Quintessences of Englishness," such as the royal family, Robin Hood and his Merrie Men, Union Jack, Shakespeare, Stonehenge, etc. And indeed, when England, England begins its operation, its business thrives!

The tale of England, England is intertwined with the life story of one Martha Cochrane. Abandoned early in childhood by her father she grows up to become a fiercely independent and successful businesswoman. In a memorable scene Sir Jack interviews Martha for one of the top managerial positions in the theme park enterprise. Being a genius unparalleled in the history of mankind, instead of hiring only "yes-men", he hires Martha as a "no-woman."

The novel is a powerful, bitter and biting satire on Disneylandization of our life: the cult of cliché, ersatz, cheapness, glitter, fakeness, and replicas. It ridicules the "culture" based on selling prefabricated emotions to people and history understood as a set of clichés. Those aspects of the novel are convincing. To me, though, the Martha Cochrane's thread does not mesh well with the satire. Also, I actively dislike the dystopian ending, a post-England, England part of Martha's story: it reads awkward and seems artificially attached to the earlier parts of the novel.

Three stars.



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