Speaking of unreliable narrators, Nick Guest takes the cake. As he moves quietly into the life of the Feddens, he makes such sensible, sympathetic, and human observations that you might think '80's conservatives didn't mind having a homosexual in their midst. You might think they were wonderfully fun, darling people. You might even think that Nick himself is a wonderful person just like you or me, and you might start thinking you'd do exactly the sorts of things he would do, if you were in his place.
Wouldn't you?
What I liked most about Alan Hollinghurst's latest novel was that I actually became an unreliable reader. I really felt for Nick and the other characters in this book, even though I knew what awful, hypocritical people they were. Sometimes they didn't seem that far off from me, and maybe the things they did really weren't that bad... right?
And then that ending comes and smacks the sense back into me.
It's been awhile since a novel has taken me into itself that much and that well. It wasn't just a casual read. This one actually worked me over and worked on me, and just writing this blog entry is making me want to read it again.
And don't think you can just get the BBC adaptation and know what I'm talking about. Although I enjoyed it, I found myself less able to have empathy for the people on screen, because I could see who they were. I didn't get a chance to imagine them more rosily, the way you can when you're reading a description and abstractly constructing the scenes in your head. Pick up The Line of Beauty and get lost in it. It's worth it.
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