Mo Said She Was Quirky by James Kelman
Other Press (April 23, 2013)
320 pp.
Source: NetGalley eBook
Helen is divorced, living in London with her six-year old daughter,
Sophie, and English-Pakistani boyfriend, Mo. A native of Glasgow, Helen
moves to London with Sophie, where she works nights in a casino to
support the family, her ex-husband a vague shadow from the past.
Helen
and Sophie share an apartment with Mo, a somewhat goofy but
good-natured man in love with Helen and very fond of Sophie, taking care
of her as though he idealized a future together with them, as a family.
Only, his Muslim family would never accept his marriage to a woman not
of their faith. It's an
unresolvable issue that's a thorn in Helen's side and something Mo
prefers to ignore. The three of them make up an unconventional family
without benefit of marriage, struggling along as best they can.
On
her way back from her night job, riding with friends in a taxi, a
destitute man crosses the street in front of them. Hazy and uncertain,
Helen believes the man is her lost brother, Brian. She soon becomes
obsessed with the conviction it must have been him, despite the
unlikelihood. The last she knew of him he didn't live in London. For all
she knew he'd never been there. It had been so long since she'd last
seen him she may not have recognized him, much less chancing to see and
know him in the street.
At home, Helen falls into a chair, too
tired and overwhelmed to sleep. Sitting there, she begins what will make
up the bulk of the novel, an often confused jumble of interior
monologue in which she considers her life, bouncing between her current
life and her past.
Kelman's method of telling the story is at
once brilliant, moving, at times even comical but it's also very, very
long. It seems a shame criticizing the beauty of the book, one woman's
life laid out for us to see, all her secrets, fears and dreams expressed
through the filter of a sense of helplessness and uncertainty. The
truth is, despite the perfection of the writing my patience ran out
about 80% through. I hated myself for it but I skim-read a few dozen
pages, to get to the end and say I had read it. Even without passing my
eyes over every, single word I did get it. I came to know Helen,
probably more intimately than she knew herself. I don't miss what I
missed; it had already been said. I wanted to know what happened. I
needed to know Helen's fate and hoped it would bring her happiness but I
could not continue reading all the minutiae of her life.
It was
beautiful, the whole book. Helen is one woman representing so many
other women in her same situation. Life has been imperfect, twisting in a
way she had never expected, uncertainty dogging her steps while she
struggles to be the solid, loving mother her daughter needs. Depression
and the weight of life press down on her shoulders; nothing is stable
and it seems it never will be. Over-arching it all, did she really see
her brother and will this one, last link to her past bring her the one
solace it's possible for her to have?
Life is never smooth;
things never turn out the way we expect. Kelman's novel captures this,
expressing it through a woman broken by life, exhausted but unable to
find rest. It's a fine, highly accomplished piece of fiction. The one
and only flaw is it could have been shorter without losing any of its
power. In fact, it could only have added to it. Still, it's superb.
