{"id":73179,"date":"2014-06-25T18:19:38","date_gmt":"2014-06-25T22:19:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=73179"},"modified":"2014-06-25T18:54:17","modified_gmt":"2014-06-25T22:54:17","slug":"an-exhilarating-head-trip","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2014\/06\/25\/an-exhilarating-head-trip\/","title":{"rendered":"An Exhilarating Head Trip"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"candid3\"<\/a>

P. H. Newby; date unknown. Photo via phnewby.net<\/p><\/div>\n

\n

The old girl kept writing and complaining about the police. It was enough to start Townrow on a sequence of dreams. Night after night he floated in the sunset-flushed, marine city. He could smell the salt and the jasmine. He dreamed that Mrs Khoury, Mr Khoury and he were all sailing out of the harbor in a boat that slowly filled with water. He dreamed he was in a hot, dark room with a lot of men who argued and shouted. It must have been in the Greek Sailing Club because when a door opened there were oars and polished skiffs; and opposite, high over Simon Artz\u2019s, of the other side of the Canal, was Johnnie Walker with his cane and his top hat setting off for Suez. Or was it the Med.?<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

So begins P. H. Newby\u2019s Something to Answer For<\/a><\/em>, the 1969 novel that won the first-ever Booker Prize. \u201cThe Booker was not, as it is now, a high media event,\u201d Anthony Thwaite wrote in an obituary for Newby in 1997<\/a>. \u201cI remember the then\u2013sales director of Faber & Faber, the book\u2019s publisher, telling me that the prize probably resulted in no more than about four hundred extra copies.\u201d<\/p>\n

That\u2019s a shame, because Newby, who was born today in 1918, deserved, and deserves, more attention. Graham Greene called him \u201ca fine writer who has never had the full recognition that he deserves,\u201d and that\u2019s as true now as it was in Newby\u2019s lifetime. Very few of his twenty novels are still in print; in the whole of The Paris Review<\/em>\u2019s archive, his name comes up only once, in Truman Capote\u2019s 1957 Art of Fiction interview<\/a>: \u201cWell, who are some of the younger writers who seem to know that style exists? P. H. Newby, Fran\u00e7oise Sagan, somewhat.\u201d<\/p>\n

In additional to his success as a novelist, Newby enjoyed a long career as a broadcast administrator\u2014he rose through the ranks to become the managing director of BBC Radio. He lived in Cairo from 1942 until 1946: it was \u201clike living in a human laboratory, in which there were no inhibitions,\u201d Thwaite writes, and it informed a number of his novels, Something to Answer For <\/em>among them. <\/p>\n

\"Something<\/a>Something<\/em> is set in the Egypt of 1956, during the Suez Crisis, and it boasts a wondrous sense of place\u2014but it\u2019s also a deeply interior novel, exploring winding epistemological corridors by way, oddly enough, of blunt force trauma to the head. Its protagonist, Townrow, has sustained some kind of cranial injury, which leaves him increasingly disoriented and destabilizes the text. As Sam Jordison, who in 2007 embarked on a quest to read every Booker Prize\u2013winning novel ever, described the novel\u2019s plot in the Guardian<\/em><\/a>, Townrow<\/p>\n

\n

is never quite sure what\u2019s going on\u2014and nor are the readers who follow his bemused progress. He knows he\u2019s gone to Egypt to see the widow of his recently deceased friend Elie and perhaps defraud her of her estate. He can\u2019t say much more with any clarity. He\u2019s unsure for instance whether he saw Elie\u2019s burial at sea or dreamt it. He misremembers scenes and conversations he\u2019s had with Leah Strauss\u2014the woman he\u2019s fallen in love with. He\u2019s overwhelmed by the ongoing events surrounding the ongoing Suez crisis and can\u2019t even remember whether he\u2019s British or Irish, involved or neutral in the whole affair.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s all very distressing for Townrow, who just wishes that he could \u201cpoint his mind at something.\u201d For the reader, however, it\u2019s an exhilarating head trip. Scenes are rewritten as Townrow re-remembers them; conversations are willfully and gleefully contradicted; plot strands are wrapped around each other. All that remains constant is the absurd march of history and the brief, bloody Suez invasion, which Newby depicts in a few virtuoso bursts of bracingly sharp detail.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Kirkus Reviews<\/em> thought of the book as \u201cA little Kafka\u2014a little Greene\u2014a little Ambler, in a charade which is also an expertly agile entertainment poised between the unsuspected and the unknown.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The old girl kept writing and complaining about the police. It was enough to start Townrow on a sequence of dreams. Night after night he floated in the sunset-flushed, marine city. He could smell the salt and the jasmine. He dreamed that Mrs Khoury, Mr Khoury and he were all sailing out of the harbor […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":38,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[489],"tags":[14420,4521,14421,1773,20545,14418,14419],"class_list":["post-73179","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books-2","tag-14420","tag-booker-prize","tag-british-novelists","tag-egypt","tag-out-of-print","tag-p-h-newby","tag-something-to-answer-for"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nAn Exhilarating Head-Trip<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Dan Piepenbring on P. H. 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