Being Beautiful...

The preparation before leaving the country really got in the way hence my failure to finish the book early. Man Booker Prize winners have always been disappointing (a claim undeniably unfair; I’ve only read three such books) so I had high expectation when I picked up The Line of Beauty. To recap, I’ve read The Gathering by Anne Right, a novel so bleak and aimless that when reading it, I’ve always wondered why it won the prize. But I must say that I like the ending. Shattering to say the least. Another, which was a bigger letdown, was Kiran Desai’s The Inheritance of Loss. The story was so-so and the ending was ‘blegh’; in fact, close to being inept. On the other hand, I found the finalists far more deserving of the title. Fine examples are Never Let Me Go and Atonement. However, as proposed by someone wise, the prize is meant for baffling work replete with obscure themes and convoluted prose.

I digressed.

the oh-so-gay cover!

Well, the novel was about a gay Oxford grad named Nick who had the opportunity to stay at his friend’s place. The man of the house was an MP in Thatcher’s government and the family consisted of the wife, the son (Nick’s friend), and the daughter who was plagued with manic depression. Basically, it told the story of Nick and how he maintained the secrecy of his highly contentious sexuality, his relationship with the family, and of course, his exhaustless pursuit of all things beautiful.



If previously I thought that the Booker committee had wrongly picked the winner, I now reserve little doubt that this book is different. Firstly, there’s a direction in the way the story is presented, unlike the two books that I mentioned earlier. The whole point of finishing a novel is to find and follow the vein of the story so as to reach its heart of hearts, not to simply get lost in random mini narratives that when accumulated, amounted to nothing. Then again, most award-winning books are destined to confuse readers with any number of side tales before closing abruptly. On to the second reason. Well, the language used is just beautiful. On this point, I won’t argue that all three books excel admirably in language.



The novel isn’t pretentious. One might argue that it’s overtly scattered with unimaginable riches and power (underscored by its ceaseless dictations on fine arts, sprawling mansions, powerful acquaintances, and lavish parties). But don’t they make the novel really British? Them people are absurdly prim if not pompous. And yeah, the title clearly suggests that it mainly concerns beautiful stuff. Money permits one to obtain beauty even though most of the time it is underappreciated which results in a continuous hunt for it. In short, it has successfully portrayed the life of British aristocrats and doesn’t make it cloying. However, this quality has the danger of pushing the novel to being highly tedium especially in the middle of the story.



But the high point is the ending. Profound and affecting, I was moved to the point that I nearly cried! Finally, a satisfying ending to a well written story. I’ve been disappointed for too many times already.



I have to hazard you though; be prepared to skip a few passages, or even pages if you think the carnality of the novel gets on your nerves... And do read it with an open mind. I know that this novel isn’t really for everyone. But I still highly recommend this book to anyone, homophobic or not.