posted on 20 Sep 2015

Heartbreak by Craig Raine

I hate to have to say this, I really do. This ‘novel’ is not at all my cup of tea – in fact, I couldn’t even finish what is a quite slight volume. I very deliberately put the word novel in inverted commas because I simply can’t see why the author and his publishers felt it was appropriate to describe it in this way. At best it’s a baggy collection of short stories, bits of literary criticism and barely formed musings. As such they clearly thought the ideas in the book were worth publishing – I don’t.

Raine is a poet by instinct and practice and I guess you might make the case for this ‘novel’ as an extended exercise in prose poetry but even making this pitch for the book feels like trying to defend the indefensible.

Ostensibly this is a meditation on the different dimensions of the notion of heartbreak – both emotional and literally physical. There are some extended pieces that begin to form into a three dimensional story but they soon evaporate. The wistful tale of a moderately talented but physically remarkable poetess who falls in love with a disfigured burns victim just about piqued my interest but was in the end dragged down by Raine’s insistence on explicitly spelling out for us the intellectual and moral lessons he wants us learn. He passes off as significant and deep ideas that seem to me trite and rather obvious and I find that the lectures become rather intrusive and irritating.

I also find his search for authenticity a real barrier. Almost every chapter or story is littered with the supposed reality of everyday life – commercial brands, television and cinema references and even shopping experiences – but they are there not because they are needed but because they are meant to make us feel the author shares our reality. It’s a bit like hearing the Archbishop of Canterbury trying his hand at street talk – it just feels the opposite of authentic.

Finally – and overwhelmingly – is the sex. I don’t know whether Raine feels he is being fearless about this often taboo subject , that might be the case, however, it simply comes across as prurience. Either way I couldn't help but feel he hates women’s bodies. Granted he seems to dislike people in general but women really do seem to get the brunt of this. And their sexuality seems to be the target – oddly shaped nipples, coat-hanger pelvises, a disgust of sexual organs; his obsession with flat-chested women must have deep roots somewhere in his psyche.

I gave up 150 pages into a 220 page book – I just couldn’t bring myself to read more. I bought the book speculatively and when you do that you have to live with the possibility that it might not be your cup of tea. I’ve never thought I could or should like everything I read and although I didn’t get it, don’t rule out the possibility that you will.

Terry Potter

September 2015