
A Whistling
Woman
by A.S. Byatt
(Knopf, 2002)
At
four hundred plus pages, "A Whistling Woman" sits
weightily in your lap. It's jam-packed with esoteric bits
of information and scholarly, essay-like asides, about everything
from Latin grammar to Kierkegaard and St. Augustine to the
neurosynapses of snails. Byatt is a true academic, and perhaps
a bit of a show-off too, and while you might think that
intellectual high-falutinism does not make for a page-turning
novel, think again.
"A Whistling Woman" is the kind of book that
you don't want to end - not surprising if you've read the
Booker Prize winning "Possession," one of the
author's many previous works. Byatt is a master plot-builder,
able to create elaborate situations and to work a reader's
curiosity, making the audience eager with a childlike desire
to know what happens next, whether the situation is a developing
psychological case-study or a developing romance. And she
keeps readers hooked until the very last pages, when the
answers to even forgotten questions continue to tumble forward.
In previous novels, Byatt's love of academic knowledge
was at times distracting from the momentum of her plots.
Long-winded recounts of ancient myths sometimes came across
as heavy-handed parables, pretentious and clunky. But this
time around, the academics seem much more well-entwined
with the "real" story, and the whole thing holds
together quite well. "A Whistling Woman" is the
fourth in a series of novels that center around the members
of the Potter family, following "The Virgin in the
Garden," "Still Life," and "Babel Tower."
The Potters are only part of the sprawling, labrynthine
story, for as usual Byatt has taken an ambitiously large
cast under her wing.
At this stage in the game it is the late sixties, and thirty-something
Frederica Potter lives in London with her son Leo, in a
house she shares with another single-mother friend. Her
younger brother Marcus Potter is at the University of North
Yorkshire, doing graduate work in math. The three major
strands of the story are as follows: 1) The development
of Frederica's new job as a hostess on a new TV program.
2) Administrators at the University of North Yorkshire are
planning a multi-disciplinary conference called "Body
and Mind," while at the same time an Anti-University
emerges. 3) Near the University, a number of people, including
characters connected with various figures at the University
and with various members of the Potter family, form a healing
community that begins to turn into a self-destructive cult.
Each of the plots leaves plenty of room for the scholarly
interests that are Byatt's trademark. Half of the characters'
lines seem to be uttered with one "yes I'm clever"
eyebrow raised. Frederica interviews psychoanalysts on her
TV show, cult members delve into various scriptures and
religious thinkers, and the University characters grapple
with the subjects of conference attendees and discuss the
languages of the then-new computers. One University academic,
the scientist Luk, studies sexual and asexual reproduction
in animals, and when he tries to woo longtime friend Jacqueline
with candle lights and leg of lamb at his cottage, he cannot
step out of his role as an analytic academic -- every time
he takes a dish from the oven or offers a glass of wine,
his head becomes filled with images of peacocks preening
their feathers, snail slimes and other mating rituals.
While it is sometimes confusing to keep track of the many
characters, particularly if unfamiliar with the three preceding
novels, their movements as communities are absolutely fascinating
studies in group behavior. Which, conveniently, several
of Byatt's characters are actually studying - for example,
one of the cult members is a budding ethnomethodologist,
living under cover for research purposes, but finds that
she must struggle not to fall prey to the persuasions of
charismatic leaders.
As a group, Byatt gives the Anti-University contingent
just about zero credibility. She portrays them as selfish
reckless followers who unthinkingly spew anarchist rhetoric,
and as they plan their protest against the University's
Body and Mind conference, it's clear that they are going
to do nothing but make a big mess for all the sympathetically
cast University administrators. While they grow particularly
enraged about a German conference guest for his supposed
complacency during the war, in their pig-headed ignorance
they do not see that their own unquestioning willingness
to swallow the turn-on tune-in drop-out philosophy of life
follows a strikingly similar pattern.
Perhaps Byatt portrays the Anti-U with such distaste because
she herself is so clearly enamored with book-learning, but
the group might have been even more interesting if she had
allowed them a scrap of sympathy. In other scenarios Byatt
is an expert at letting us see a single event from multiple
and equally credible perspectives. For example, Frederica's
TV discussion with women writers about the new concept of
the Free Woman touches on subjects such as the pill, which
Frederica considers playful, harmless and interesting. Meanwhile
Jacqueline and Luk happen to view the program just as they
have learned that Jacqueline is pregnant and are uncertain
as to what to do, and Luk is offended by the too-casual
tone of the TV chat. Such coincidences happen frequently,
and while they sometimes seem overly-constructed, they are
also necessary to keep all the different strands of narrative
wound up together.
Byatt's style, which requires you to slow down and do a
little thinking in order to enjoy it, is a nice change of
pace considering there are so many authors out there who
cultivate voices of calculated simplicity, and who write
in catchy sound-bites. Byatt forces you to relax, sit back
and be patient as she spins her tale and shares her knowledge
with you.
-- Christine Leahy
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