When someone tells me that there is a book about to be published that will remind me of Edward St. Aubyn and his wild creation Patrick Melrose, I am typically on board but quietly saying to myself “yeah-yeah.” To be totally honest there is nothing like Patrick Melrose.
The Unfortunates doesn’t open in the same fashion that the first Patrick Melrose novel does, but it has a kind of gilded flair which is enormously impressive. We see a blue blood training ground somewhere in the wilds of Connecticut just outside of Manhattan. Cecilia Somner whirls at the center of this story and as we meet her it is clear that she just doesn’t have a good grasp on reality.
It is not so much that there are a few things wrong; she just doesn’t see the world the same way as the rest of us. We are dragged onto a boat. There is a party and she is giving instructions to the staff while noticing little things about the waiters who will be serving drinks on the boat. You almost feel bad for the waiters, because she notices everything. Ce-Ce, as she is referred to throughout the book, is a little preoccupied with doing nothing. She has managed to outlive her husband who left her the fortune he amassed with his business of creating, buying and selling rubber.
Ce-Ce is losing her mind but there isn’t much evidence that she had much to lose. She has been afflicted with a rare disease that sends her to the hospital for an indefinite stay, where she is given an experimental drug.
This strand of the narrative was like Hot Tamales and Mike & Ike candies to me, (my favorite), and no matter how far from it I got, I welcomed Ce-Ce back every time.
Our story leaps with confidence into the wide open gap that Ms. McManus has created, and after such a fantastic start, you have no reason not to trust her. We are greeted with a mild odor which is Ce-Ce’s son George, a rich kid with nothing to do but manage donations and sit around and act upon his wildest fantasies.
This is the part of the book that gave me pause. George is writing and trying to put on an Opera called The Burning Papers, (its themes are hard to follow, but it is intensely wrought) and what was a point of caution quickly becomes a moment of hilarity. George doesn’t really know what he’s doing, to put it mildly. Woven into George’s life is his wife Iris and their dog 3D.
It would be cruel and unusual punishment for me to tell you more about the wife or the dog, but when you put your head down on the pillow at night you can be assured that it will be entertaining. Just a tidbit, Iris is casually toying with real estate, and like George, she’s no good at it.
The title of the novel has nothing really to do with anything, Ce-Ce isn’t unfortunate, George might be, but Iris is an “also ran” here. To tell the story of the Somner family you need to know how they got there, where the wealth came from, and this is no small task. As we careen forward like a drunken sailor, Ms. McManus carefully adds in a pinch of history for each character large and small, and you never see it coming. The pleasure that comes from these memories is wonderful to experience.
Ce-Ce has a way of belittling everyone even when she’s not around. Her reflection can be felt in each character, she is the star, but her effect is invasive and almost arrogant. She is naively rich, and her brains backdraft off that wealth. She is a master of the universe but all alone. In her senility she suffers from the banalities of day to day life in the hospital and makes friends with a fellow sickie. Then she realizes that there really isn’t anyone on earth that she would ever have anything in common with, so she gloms onto the groundskeeper who snakes past her window each day.
I looked forward to this book, and took it with me everywhere, even if I had only a few minutes to read a page or two. The writing is so perfect, crisp, polished, and defies the term “debut author”. From Farrar Straus & Giroux, The Unfortunates is on sale June 2nd, 2015.
Jason, this is awesome. Thank you so very much! S
My pleasure. It’s the best book I have read in a very long time.